I feel like I’ve been pulling back from writing since I cheated. I feel ashamed of myself. I feel dirty and bad and like I am not a good person. Things with my relationships haven’t helped. I do so  much looking to my friends for permission to exist; permission to do things and feel things and want things. When my friends stop giving that permission I feel like I run down like a clock.

I looked to Sarah for permission in an outsized way. And that mechanism totally failed. Sarah is not reliable. She asked me what she was supposed to be protecting in our relationship. I don’t know how to explain it. I wanted her to actually prioritize me. I wanted consistency from her to prove that I deserve consistency. She’s really literally unable to be consistent. It’s not me. I am deeply comforted by the people who have contacted me to say, “Seriously dude. This is not you. She does this to everyone.” It’s not that I’m unworthy and pathetic and awful. It’s that Sarah is not consistent for anyone. She is inconsistently wonderful and amazing and astounding. But it’s inconsistent.

The inconsistency makes me crazy. It completely destroys my sense of self. I stopped getting mad at people for being late for dates because I stopped feeling like if I did that I would have anyone left.

I wanted Sarah to prove to me that even though my mother couldn’t be consistent…. someone thought I was worth it.

But I’m not.

Things like: we tried to have monthly in person dates and weekly Skype dates. I cancelled the Skype dates after a few months of trying because I was always waiting around and she couldn’t make it. I felt like I did something inappropriate when I asked to stop having the Skype dates because it was really hurting me to always be not important enough. And then the in person dates… yeah. That sucked. Those didn’t happen consistently and I ended up doing an awful lot of the carrying of the load. Because obviously with multiple children it’s way easier for me to do the work. Duh.

It’s like driving to Arizona to help her. Where is a similar level of support in my direction? Yeah. Right.

It’s not that she did nothing. It’s that I poured energy into her unstintingly and the end result is I am drained and bitter. I’m barely talking to my friends because I’m afraid I will take my bitterness out on everyone.

I don’t want to feel like this.

My neighbor tells me that he’s sad I’m moving. I’m the best neighbor he’s ever had. But we talk for like 2 hours in a whole year. Maybe you could have fucking appreciated me more actively and made me want to stay?

I feel so very lonely and disconnected. I’m barely talking to friends even when they are in the literal room with me. There is no point in me trying to use my voice. My children will just talk over me and drown me out.

I feel less and less like I have a self to exist.

I am so tired. I feel so hateful and worthless and stupid and sad. I want to leave. I am so tired of being reminded that I am not that important to any of these people.

Go. Go. Go. Go. Go.

I need a break. I won’t get one.

I need to feel like I’m important or I’m not going to live that long. Because taking care of me is hard. It feels so stupid to waste time and energy on me.

I feel so sad. I feel like dying would be so much easier than continuing to try and fail at being a person.

I miss Sarah so much that I ache all the time. And we hurt each other constantly. And she is literally incapable of being consistent or dependable and I need to stop looking to people who are inconsistent. This is one of the most toxic patterns still in my life.

I want to be good enough to make someone like that love me and treat me like I’m important. It’ll prove that maybe I was good enough for my mom it was just bad timing.

Just bad timing.

Noah wants to be enough. He wants to give me all the permission and acceptance and tolerance and love. And he’s a white cis dude. That’s so complicated.

I will wipe my ass and go to bed. Because there is nothing else to be done.

I am nervous about having to keep the kids out of the house all day tomorrow. I don’t want to go to the park. I don’t want to see anyone or do anything. I want to crawl into a dark room with no windows and not come out for a week or 50.