Hate everyone

 I fucking hate all humans. Like really though; even myself, like human beings are vile greedy selfish disgusting putrid creatures who should all be lit on fire and chained to rocks like cartoon hell is depicted. Like it’s so clearly true that that’s what all human beings deserve. I fucking hate everyone. Everyone everyone everyone. Everyone.  

Hating my body; what’s new

I had my first therapy session with Dr. A. I feel like it went ok - I do like her and think she gets it on some level. I'm not convinced she can help, but she sent me assessments that made me want to gouge out my own eyeballs, so that's probably telling that her process is hitting me right... she canceled the next session, so I’m not thrilled, but I intend to give her like two more before I make a final judgement call. I feel really unconvinced that any therapist can be help, but… 

I realized blogging earlier in this week how much my daily routine is about getting to the finish line and unwinding. The process is ugly lately. I have been treating my body like garbage in a lot of ways. I don’t know how to climb out of it. I feel physically ill all the fucking time lately, and I’m doing it to myself. 

I looked up an old friend this morning because I randomly saw her Venmo purchase… she is so thin now. Enviably thin. I am so over this body I live in… I hate it. 

Fuckity fuck fuck

Yesterday did not go as planned - no one left, so I stayed locked in the guest bedroom all day. I smoked and took a bubble bath and binged way too much and ignored my husband’s existence when he tried to talk to me. He tried 5 times. I just kept saying, “no,” and walking away. Straight back to my den. I’ve never been as firm and unemotional as I was yesterday. I took a lot of Xanax…

He’s texted me just now about how he behaved, but I’m over it. I just took my day to punish him, and now it’s fine. That’s how I’m going to manage it all from now on - if people aren’t behaving, I’m going to just go be by myself. I don’t have it in me to handle all of their shit all the time, and I’m not leaving him, so grey rocking it is. 

The only thing that even gives me pleasure in life recently is food. 

That’s a sad fucking horrifying reality… old me would shit herself with runny laxative poop if she knew I’d ever be writing those words in the virtual pages of this blog in 2025. But it’s true. Sex is boring when it’s not about trapping new men, and I can’t fucking drink anymore or do drugs. Smoking just makes me eat. Like what the fuck do I do about this? Concede to a bored life and do dumb shit like build a dollhouse? Am I really done partying?? Because I don’t want to fucking be done partying. But I don’t see any scenario unfolding that ever leads to me bending allowed to party like ever again. 

That’s a lot to give up for this shitty man. 

I had to give up everything. Literally everything. And the things I thought I would acquire in the exchange, like spending money or getting a house, have all been plucked from the flower of possibilities. Because my husband doesn’t bring in money for those things. Because my kid is disabled. The kid I didn’t really want and love deeply but wish didn’t exist. It’s just the end of the story. “And then she had a kid with special needs.” 

I want to feel fucked up every night. I want to be a drug addict more than I could ever really express. I’m so fucking jealous of the women who get to go out every night and drink. The ones who go home and drink wine. I’m jealous of the moms who run away to New Mexico with one suitcase and find a room to rent and take up painting and go camping in the desert alone. 

I wish I could have any other life than how mine turned out. It’s really tragic but true. I’ve just worked to salvage this life since I arrived on this planet. And nothing has helped. I thought a college degree would, or a boyfriend, or a husband, or a different husband, or a different college degree, or a different career, or having kids or working for myself. But none of those things improved the quality of my life whatsoever. And I see those things happening to other people and making them happier. None of them did that for me. Not really.  

I’m so over being sober because my fucking husband can’t drink. It’s the dumbest most unfair shit ever. Because now all I get to do is smoke or eat. And smoking makes my eating like 10x worse because the bottom of my stomach vanishes. I did well for 2 weeks, and now it’s like 4 days of shit. Smoking at work again. Eating garbage. Spending money. Being lazy. I feel so stressed idk any other way to cope. 

I need therapy. It’s def clear… 

I’m sitting at my desk right now having just feasted on lunch and unable to lift my mood or focus on anything for more than like 60 seconds. I’m shocked I was able to just write all of this. I was in a bad mood in my first 3 meetings this morning and I’m so tired I don’t want to attend any of the rest today, but the reality is I need to go to work consistently for like the next 3 months to feel like I’m going to be ok here. 

I have no reason to be tired. I slept like 7 additional hours yesterday more than just my normal sleep. So I can’t even be tired. I’m just fucking depressed. 

I’m glad I didn’t fill out an accommodation, because clearly my behavior today shows what kind of money I’d have missed out on if I knew it wouldn’t cost me my whole job. I just don’t give a fuck today. I tried. I almost called out, but I’m completely out of PTO, I’m off Friday anyway, and I didn’t want to be home for another whole day. Husband and baby are at home, so I thought office time would be better. So far it’s all just pissing me off. 

Everything is pissing me off. 

I need to stop smoking. It’s not good for me. I keep saying this, but I never stop. 

Nothing that matters

E is not my friend anymore. I didn’t hear from him for over 3 WEEKS after I called him the day my mom died. Then it was a 13 second audio message saying that he is so sorry he’s been working so much… I didn’t respond. Then 6 weeks after the day I spoke to him on the phone I get a text that says “I love you.” I’m sorry, but even the worst friends do better than this. We are no longer best friends. I think we always had an expiration date, but here it is. It’s fucking tragic. The only person who knows all my deep dark little secrets is gone from my life. 

Now it’s just this. This is the only record of the horrible person I have been and the horrible person I continue to be. 

I’m not speaking to my husband today. He accuses me of being a bad mom when he’s in a bad mood, and his mood for the past week has been horrendous. He’s been sick, but so have the rest of us, and we don’t act like that. Yesterday I tried all day to make him happy, and he was just a whiny prick all day anyway. So today’s approach is: Fuck. Him. 

He’s also not parenting our kid well. He’s spoiling him. Currently you can’t tell that 6 year old “no” without him throwing a tantrum where he tries to hurt you or himself. So my husband just says “yes.” To fucking everything. That’s not good enough for me. And all weekend we have butted heads over it. 

This morning, he started verbally attacking me first thing and being extra, so I just said fuck it all and spoke my mind and walked away. And when I walked away, he followed me and got aggressive, playing fucking tug of war with the doorknob… So I texted him to fuck off and that I’m blocking his number, and I did for a few hours. I didn’t care to read whatever his bitch ass response was to what I sent, so I just blocked him. I locked myself in the guest bedroom and took a Xanax and a 4 hour nap. He’s supposed to take the kids to the beach today, and then I will emerge and get supplies for the rest of my day and order pizza. I have big kid’s location, so I’ll know when they leave. 

I thought of packing up and going to my dad’s today, but he’s being annoying af lately also, which I can’t mentally even get into right now. 

I’m literally not speaking to my husband today at all. I’m not speaking to him until I feel like speaking to him. If I’m still in this headspace tomorrow, I’m going to get up early and get ready and leave before he even has a chance to. And then he can get the baby ready for school alone. I’m sick of being treated like a bad mom when I know I’m not. I might be a lot of terrible things, but I know how to raise kids so they turn out not horrible people. I told him I was going to start having the same response to him when Baby throws fits - to just start accusing him of doing everything wrong. 

He’s such a piece of shit sometimes. And I’m not going to leave him, but I’m going to be busy a LOT if he continues to be like this. I’ll just get my own life until he leaves me. 

Something inside of me has changed dramatically since my mom died. A lot of things. And I’m really really done tolerating shit.