ON LIFE — And Death.

Reflection from November 6th, 2011 @ Age 30


God.  How fucking lame does my life sound when people my age are out there having babies, like Jen.  Vivien Eve was born yesterday around 7pm and I am so happy for JenJen, but lost a bit myself (ohh the self-centeredness!).  And don’t you know, surprise, surprise, Adam has been asleep all fucking night since I got home from Nicole’s bachelorette party around 11pm.  So I got angry and snatched some goodies up from his car, 2 tonight, but just waiting, and waiting.  Waiting as ever, doesn’t that always seem to be the case?  Why is it that I always seem to be waiting and behind?  Other than that, I don’t much feel like talking.  I don’t know what I’m going to do with myself.


And…I’m back!  I’ve been thinking, you know, and came to a couple conclusions.  Well, not really conclusions per se, but something closer to it than a mere question.  Well, even then, maybe still questions in some sense, but whatever, it’s all the same in any case. 

So firstly, well I don’t really know which to start with, so I’ll just start with babies.  As I said earlier, Jen had her baby,


It’s so cute, that name; and the baby, she’s even cuter.  She’s beautiful, actually, she has big, big dark eyes and thick dark hair, just like her mama.  Kind of makes me want to kill myself.  But honestly, how selfish can I be?  And in any case, I’m really only being dramatic…mostly…

No, she’s just absolutely beautiful and perfect and it makes me fucking sick with fear that I’ll never have a daughter myself.  Ohh how I so very much want a daughter!  Now Charity has one, Jen has one, Rachel has one, and all I can think about is how I have this feeling I never will.  It’s been making me cry.  I’m not horribly torn up (yet) (but hopefully never), I’m just frustrated that it takes me for fucking ever to accomplish any one goddamned task in this life.  I don’t know why I’m so fucking slow when everyone else seems to have no problem keeping up their speed. 

Went to this bachelorette party with Nicole for her sister-in-law last night, and the groom’s sister was pregnant, probably 25 years old!  And then I was up till at least 3 fucking am this morning, and Krissy Mayhew was on Facebook, and I talked to her for like a minute (she was responding too slowly…lol…), and I said your wedding photos were really pretty and she said well…we motherfucking made something else beautiful while we were there that’s taking the form of some little shit karate kid in my stomach or some such other bullshit like that.  Honestly, this is fucking ridiculous.  I mean, it’s fucking absurd.  I cut my Lamictal down by 40mgs a day, and I do wonder if that has anything to do with this, but still, my god, this is fucking ri-goddamn-diculous.  Makes me want to slit my wrists just a bit.  Really just think about it, and honestly, I’m really being quite overdramatic here, but all the same…

I was thinking last night, though, how my mom had three boys, three boys!  And then the fourth came along and there I was, shining in all my bloody glory!  A girl!  How lucky could she be?!?  And there I was…

So anyways, I think it’s pretty obvious I’ve been feeling a little down about the whole baby thing, which is funny in a sense, because I used to think I would never find someone to love me, and that I would never be able to pass the bar exam, but those things happened.  And so many other things happened too, like I have an SUV now, and I have all my student loans in full repayment, etc., etc.  But it just seems so cruel that Jen got married years before me, and Jen started making mad money and became an accomplished career woman before me, and now Jen has a baby before me.  It just makes me so fucking furious.  I know I shouldn’t be like this, but I’m not going to sit here and blab about how fucking happy I am for her, although I very much so am. 

I’m here to talk about me, and my feelings, and so that is what I will do.  All my selfish, angry, mean thoughts, I will spill.  Because what else am I, if not real?  I suck at pretending.

So then, this brings me quite flowingly to my next point, two of two, that it’s pretty crazy how, in some sick sense, I almost feel justified in having snatched 8 from Adam.  Took two last night, took one today, should be kicking in any minute here.  It just seems so funny to me, how Jen is just sitting there with a fucking baby, of her very motherfucking own, and here am I, sitting on my little couch, in my little office (honestly though, I am so lucky to have an office with a nice couch…), but here I sit, getting stoned, doesn’t it seem so, strange, to you? 

LOL…I guess I don’t really know what kind of answer I would even want from that line of thought, I’m just saying.  I feel justified because it always seems that at the very most painful times, Adam is not around.  He is either sleeping, or he does not mentally or emotionally understand, or both; but either way, he’s not around. 

When I had to put Oliver to sleep, our wedding night, the transplant surgery, my best friend’s first baby…not around.  So I snuck out in the middle of the night, looking ridiculous I’m sure, what with my acorn hat, glasses, scarf, sweater, jeans and UGG boots, and my red eyes, less we forget, and I snuck right over to Giant Eagle and bought me-self some cigarettes!  And then I came home and snuck out on the back deck, and I smoked one and a half of those damn cigarettes and it was nothing other than simply fabulous.  And that is what concerns me, even if only in the slightest bit (as the case may be…).

I was angry at Adam, so I snatched some pills, got my body blitzed, smoked some cigarettes, and don’t you know, I felt better!  Then, anyhow.  Not so much now, but I took another and have five more left.  So there you have it, still abusing.  But why not abuse substance when life’s abusing you?  Sounds pretty stupid, but makes some sort of sense to me.  Whether you’d understand, I haven’t a clue, but I will say, that I do understand it in a way.

And so there you have it, and that is that.  Not sure what to do with my high self now.  I want to curl up in bed, and like I said (LOL) probably 8 years ago, fall asleep and then wake up in five years, and see how things are looking then.  And then again, maybe fall asleep for another five years if need be, and take a looksy there as well.  But I won’t.  I will trudge on along this painful path.  As easy as I do have it, all the same, there is always pain. 

I’ve been thinking of Dave.  I’m hesitant to type these thoughts onto this page even, but I think I will, despite the chance that someone might hack in to see what is on my mind, because otherwise, I might go crazy, and then no one will ever know why.

David is my go to.  When life is not kind, I go to him, and I say see, look what you did.  We were meant to be together, but I hurt you, and then you hurt me, and then you went and jumped off a fucking apartment building to your splattering deathbed.  I mean, WTF?  But always, to him I go.  I speak to him, I pray to him, I beg of him, and I weep to him.  And he may very well be somewhere, being hearing me, be with me.  But I cannot know.  I will never know, and I don’t know how I will ever be able to move past that.

Ohh how I miss him with all of my heart!  How I think of him, how I dream of him!  If anyone knew of it, they would think I’m simply mad.  But ohh my how I did love him, and how I wonder if I will ever love that way again.

But boy, how guilty, also, do I feel!  How can I say these words, and put them down onto paper?  How could I do that to him?!?  How outrageous can I be!?!  But that is me, any way you slice it.  I am me, and I cannot change that.  If I am selfish, then that is what I am.  If I am kind, then that is what I am.  But I am not one thing, or another, I am not good and I am not evil.  I am good and I am evil, together, always, good and evil.  And not to sound sinister, but how very glad I am to know it.


You know, I was just thinking, remembering the day, when Stacey had Gavin..