My Life in Chamomile

I am depressed. Loss of appetite and heartbroken. I know that this will pass, but I hate the time that it takes to pass in-between. I have honestly thought of killing myself this week. Not for Matt, not for my Ex, not for my mom. No, more selfish than that, i wanted to kill myself for me alone.

I even imagined and planned how I would do it. Step 1, buy a bottle of sleeping pills. Step 2, make sure my Ex is watching the dog. Step 3, keep my front door unlocked for easy access. Step 4, post a cryptic Tweet. Step 5, clean up my office. Step 6, take a shower and dress up beautifully. Step 7, take the pills in the morning after acupuncture. Step 8, position myself correctly on my yoga mat and go to sleep.

I don’t know how long it would take but I don’t know what would happen afterwards. I probably won’t be discovered for three days. Which would be gross. But oh well.

All I know is that I’m really tired. I’m exhausted. Tired if being alone, tired of being lonely. Tired of this existence.

But still, I continue on. Why? I have no idea.

Maybe the Universe has other plans for me…

The Carnival Is Over

According to the 5 stages of grief:

  1. Denial
  2. Anger
  3. Bargaining
  4. Depression
  5. Acceptance

I have gone through 1-3 in the last 24 hours, with #4 happening in parallel with the first three. Matt no longer wants anything to do with me and I don’t know why. I sent him a text message to try and end things on a positive note, but he never responded. I ran into him in the restroom and told him that I missed him and he did was nod. WTF?!

Matt no longer likes me and he wants nothing to do with me.

Matt has moved on and so must I.

Matt is too immature to handle a relationship at his age. He’s more married to his work than anything.

Matt doesn’t like me anymore.

Matt DOESN’T LIKE ME ANYMORE.

MATT DOESN’T LIKE ME ANYMORE.

I have to get that in my head! He’s moved on and so must I. It’s over.

I Miss You

Oh Matt… I Love You. I Miss You.

Why did we break-up last night?! WHY!?!?

My heart aches for you. I am numb. I know that I am creating pressure for you. “My existence” you say adds pressure. You are torn. I’ve become a distraction.

All I want to do is hold you in my arms.

I love you so much. I miss you so much