Sexiness

I want to be sexy again. I want to feel sexy. I want my body to be appealing to others. I want to get hit on. Listed after. I want to be worshipped. 

I have no regrets about my slutty past. Except maybe I should have done it a bit more a bit sooner. 

It’s really time to get skinny. Regardless of what that looks like. 

Hope?

I really wish I would have stopped fuckingggg smoking. 

I have an interview. For a good job. That’s still in my field but would eliminate the things that are stressing me the fuck out lately. And the money is more than I make now.

I impulsively want to do a lot of math on this and am trying not to as to not get my hopes up. The outlook looks promising. 

I applied yesterday and they called me today. It’s at my old company. Do I really want to go back? Actually, yes, a little… I think for the money I’d make it’s blissful. It would be a great thing on my resume that could catapult me into even higher paying jobs. It’s a good move. 

I want to find my balance again. I want chaos. I want to be so engulfed with work I forget to eat. I want to wear makeup and heels again. I want my fucking office back. I want to engage with adults besides my husband and clients. I want to feel like I’m doing important things again. 

I realized I can never be still. I always want the next thing. More. Better. I can’t stop. 

But my pee could interfere with this process. Hopefully not. Working on a detox and hoping I won’t need a masker for the pee test. Hoping I have time. Hoping for a lot out of this. 

Living is awful

Therapy is complete bullshit. It’s just a bunch of self-absorbed people inflating each others’ egos. It doesn’t fucking work, because no one ever knows what the fuck to do about the issues. It’s all a fucking wrong guess. They act like the answers are already inside, but if that were the case, no one would fucking need it. 

I believe in the concept of ending it… Like, I get it. Sometimes I’m so jealous of those who kill themselves. It’s such an efficient and selfish and poetic thing to do. I wish I just had earlier. Now I can’t, and it’s tragic. I should have done it before I was ensnared in this life he promised me and can’t, or won’t, deliver. I should have done it before the moments I ever had someone to make me a hollow promise about a future together. 

I wonder how close I could get… I wonder if anyone would pay attention if I started to wither away. Is there anyone to even see at this point?

I think of alternative lives daily. Ones where I stayed or left or went another way. I imagine ones that come from whispers of dreams, and spend entire days tucked away there only to awaken at the end to experience the acutest moments of pain and abuse. Little pinpricks after a day of fogginess. I cry every single day, which it a little ridiculous if you think about it. I need to lower my expectations and not hope so much. I keep thinking small glimpses of good mean there is good to see, but there isn’t. It’s just a desert mirage - shiny and hopeful, until you get closer and realize it’s just a scorching lifeless stretch of ground ahead of you. Forever. 

They act like it gets better in life, but it never fucking does. Whatever shit level of life you’re born into is where you’ll stay. You’ll change shitty things, and feel good for a brief shining moment, and then life will throw new shitty things at you for you to overcome. It never gets better. And I don’t think those small moments are worth it. 

I don’t know if it would even make a difference to start a different life. I can suffer in this one, or suffer alone, or suffer with new people in new places with new experiences. Do I just keep the most familiar of pain? I know why people stay. The devil you know, and all that. 

I’m increasingly wanting to leave this life and mapping out the newer journey. But I have no idea. 

One month

What if, for one month, you did all the things you know to do to take care of yourself?

Don’t smoke

Drink water

Take meds

Shower 2x daily 

Skincare daily 

No binging

Keep a clean house 

Projects and outings on the weekends

Maintain toes, brows, nails, shaving 

Don’t spend money you don’t need to spend 

Eat reasonable breakfast, lunch, dinner 

No snacking 

Go to therapy 

Hook up with husband 

Teeth care 

Go to bed on time

Get up early 

Work out 

I can do all this if I get organized. If I manage to keep my anxiety at bay. If I let myself go easy on doing the things. If I don’t let other peoples emotions derail me. 

One month. Let’s just try.