Sunday, June 01, 2008

Low point

I don't know why I still feel so blue and hopeless. I'm having a hard time washing SB out of my hair. I'm so angry that he just stopped calling. I did stop poking him on Facebook, but I don't think that's sufficient provocation for a total disappearing act. And now I feel like it's too late. I'm too old and too fat. Who besides him and Captain Best Effort is going to find me attractive?

I am not looking forward to another birthday without a boyfriend or husband. A friend is allegedly arranging some kind of party or brunch in honor of my upcoming birthday and recent graduation -- I sent him a bunch of friends' email addresses -- but I haven't made any actual plans, and honestly, I don't want to. I don't feel like celebrating. What I've accomplished, what I have, isn't enough.

I did have a great time in San Francisco -- my aunt and cousin spoiled me rotten. My aunt bought me three tops to wear with a blazer I have and a cute little jacket. She bought me more fruit than three nieces could eat, and took me to a fantastic play. Yaffa took me to the best vegetarian restaurants in the city, introduced me to a bunch of her very cool friends, and we had some great conversations about our fathers, our mothers, and our sisters.

But I got all disregulated. I don't know whether it was the time change or being sick, but I didn't feel like doing much of anything. Driving on SF's hilly streets to Sunday brunch at a fancy vegetarian restaurant, I was hit with horrendous vertigo. I was already feeling anxious, and I have an incipient fear of heights. Driving up and (oh, Lord) down the roller-coaster streets was agonizing. I had to close my eyes and breathe slowly and deeply.

By the end of the vacation, I was grateful to go home. Even though I love my cousin and my aunt, and I actually loved my cousin's dogs -- well, two out of three. I didn't interact much with the paranoid Chihuahua (is that redundant?), but the dachshunds were adorable.

Now I'm trying to cope. Doing the training program, getting to the clinic at the crack of dawn. Going on interviews, hoping they like me. Watching my bank account dwindle, wondering how I'm going to pay my rent in July.

I've also pretty much decided that if I never get married, I'm allowed to die after my mother dies. I know she went through hell after my attempt, and I could never do that -- or worse -- to her again. But if it's just me, and I'm old and alone and in pain, I'm not going to suffer. I've suffered enough.
Copyright (c) "Ayelet Survivor"

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