Work your magic. It’s 3am and I’m sitting here awake and going through old messages and pictures, and there is no numbness. Just aching. Come on!! I need you to be better! Work harder! Dull me!
I mentioned to him I got meds, to help deal with my anxiety and sadness, that I needed something to get me through these next few weeks. And you know what this mf’er asked? If I knew what was causing it. My anxiety. My little mental health crisis.
Are you serious? ARE YOU SERIOUS RIGHT NOW ?
God damn these men.
My heart was safe, guarded, protected, untouched. Then I let you near. I let you in. I was soft and tender in your arms and you broke me and now you want to know why I’m in pieces on the ground?
Wtf.
Maybe I need to take another Xanax. I only have 20 tho! I need to be judicious.
At least I have this lovely headstone that says welcome home, from my signed copy of Samantha irby’s newest book.
That’s where we are. That’s what we’re trying to do. Be friends.
Sigh
I’m gonna do it, because I am weak and pathetic and sad. Because I’d rather this than nothing.
I got Xanax today. Because I’m useless right now and I just want to be numb and not care about anything for the next couple of weeks. so I can “be friends.” So I can stop feeling like garbage. so I can stop obsessing. So I can do something else besides criticize myself and what I did wrong and why no one will ever love me. So I can just forget.
So far I’ve only sent two late-night, emotionally humiliating texts, which he thankfully ignored.
In happier news, my leg is doing so much better! I am healing at a phenomenal rate. Impressing so many people and doctors. They might throw me a parade. And give me a medal.
I’m doing gym stuff again, but making sure I take it easy and don’t push it too far. I can walk almost normal now! And the bruising is gorgeous, so nasty looking and utterly fascinating. I think the icing I’ve been doing, and then wearing this sexy sexy compression sock at night as I sit here watching TV, has really helped.
I don’t think I’ll need to wait six weeks before I’m back at it.
Should I still go to London for ocean at the end of the lane? We were going to go together. I’ll be sad the whole time. Maybe I’ll be over him by then. Maybe I’ll never be over him. Maybe the wrath of god will wipe all the evil treacherous traitorous souls from the earth by then. Cause see, Roger, man of god, told me all about it in the infrared sauna at my gym the other day. He prayed for me. I’ll be one of the saved ones. My body won’t be floating in the Potomac. Also trump is gonna be reinstated as president soon. This is all gonna happen in the next month. So maybe think about getting your affairs in order, people.
Wilco’s new song is good! It actually sounds like Wilco. And it’s very apt for me right now since my heart is being crushed to a pulp.
Would you like to see the grossness that is my torn calf muscle right now?
It’s feeling better though. I have more movement in it and I’m able to walk on it better. I did the full week of total rest and I returned to the gym yesterday. I did two classes but was very careful and did not do anything that felt wrong or painful.
I was very happy to be back at the gym but already I can sense how much I’ve lost. It’ll be fine. It will be fine. IT WILL BE FINE.
But I have some really good news. I found a new headband! It’s almost the exact same as my old one, it’s just a different color. But it works! My hair stayed off my face and the band didn’t slip off and I didn’t have to adjust it 400 times. It was a glorious day. I feel my luck could change.
Is it dumb and a waste of money to buy posters for national shows I’m not even going to?
Yes it’s dumb. I’m not a teenager. Get ahold of yourself christa.
Normally I would be using the gym as a distraction for how miserable I feel. But I had to go and tear a calf muscle and now I’m an even bigger mess. I have nothing. NOTHING!
The desire and impulse to text him is intense. Overwhelming. My strength is tested constantly. But my friends are right. I will feel even worse after, with the fresh agony of waiting for a response. And there is no response that would be satisfactory. And it would be repeating the same nightmare.
But still, I obsess over it, thinking if I could just craft the perfect message, everything will be okay again.
I’m an idiot.
There is one distraction. I went to see a new boy tonight. it helped! Plus I actually like him. He’s curious and strange and interesting and makes me a little crazy because I have no idea how he feels about me. I think he likes me? He’s asked me to come over Friday. I said yes. He is going to cook me dinner.
I thought the lesson with this whole thing was that I am in fact open to the possibility of a relationship. Something beyond just sex. But that was stupid.
The lesson I HAVE learned is a good one: being vulnerable and opening yourself up to someone is never worth the risk.
These legs and my chilled heart will stay closed forever. Leave me alone, world. Let me be.
