Sometimes I wish that this blog was still anonymous and that people I know didn’t read it. I wish I could write here about the things I really need to work through.
Sometimes I am selfish and wish that I could make decisions for ME.
I’m nothing like the person I thought I’d turn out to be and have tried to be for so long. That’s a hard pill for Pride to swallow.
I’ve been having an ongoing crisis of faith for nearly 3 years. I’m all done pretending to have the answers. I’m not sure what I really believe in. I’m ok with that. I think not knowing is a good thing.
If and when this situation I’m in resolves itself, I don’t think I’ll ever want to get married or commit myself to another man again. I miss the companionship, but I hate (fear) everything else that marriage and serious relationships bring along with them.
I am crying while I write this, of course.
I frequently doubt that I am strong enough to handle what I have gotten myself into.
I have secrets. Lots of them. I don’t like the feeling of having secrets, but I guess everyone has them.
Sometimes I want to turn off my computer and my phone for a week and just BE, but those are the only two things connecting me to the outside world.
I hate that after everything we’ve been through, and even though I so desperately want to move on, I still have “what if” moments about my marriage. I’m worried I’ll never really feel closure. I’m a slow learner it seems.
My heart breaks every time one of my parents ask me to just come home. I wish I could, but I know that it wouldn’t solve any problems. I wish they could understand.
I am frustrated that at 30, I am not in a position to help my parents financially.
I hate not having my own money. I feel like a child having to ask for it any time I need something.
I don’t feel like I can be myself around the majority of people I know.
I don’t totally hate split parenting. I miss my daughter when she’s not here, but I am learning to enjoy my alone time. I have a hard time admitting that.
There are currently only a handful of people whose company I enjoy. Most people irritate me to the point of anger and physical discomfort. I never used to be like that.
I don’t leave my house often enough. Sometimes I don’t even go outside my front door for days at a time. This is because I try to forget where I live. Being in public in this country makes my skin crawl.
I am concerned that I was happier a year ago when life was more chaotic and unsure. Now that things have calmed down, not so much. I can’t figure out how to get back to where I was. Happiness is a moment at a time effort for me now.
I wish I could afford to go away for a while. Just for a week to someplace secluded where everyone is a stranger and I can have the chance to just be still.
I totally do not want to publish this. I haven’t decided if I will or not. I don’t like feeling vulnerable, and that’s what this list does to me.
These issues have all existed for way too long. I don’t know how to fix a single one of them, and I have regular crying sessions about several of them.
Sometimes I stand in the middle of my house, look around, and have a hard time believing that this is really my life. Sometimes that’s a good thing, usually not so much.
That was therapeutic, but now I have a serious headache. Time for a bubble bath.