It’s flat, yanno. More like when I was shell shocked realizing that my last ex didn’t really give a shit. I raged and then shut down….just shut down….automatic pilot and better living through chemistry.
I took myself off the Xanex. I can’t do it anymore. One short week…I should have known better.
HA! I can’t even bring myself to orgasm. Now that is pitiful beyond belief. Sure the drugs dampen the emotion and worry from rising to the forefront, but it doesn’t stop the tears. Just doesn’t stop my ocean of tears. And I can’t cum….
I’m going to find some free resources for HRT locally and see if that makes a difference.
Perhaps that will help with the weight gain. Pitiful as well. I tend to loose so easily. And I’ve had a sinus infection for the past week. Now, I’m 87 pounds….I need more body resources. None of my clothes fit. I don’t want anyone to see me nude. A bag of skin and bones. I feel old and used. Literally and figuratively. Unhealthy.
I cannot and will not operate in this world….flat, lifeless and not “feeling”…..
So there is a part of me-not “big” enough obviously-that gives thanks for a roof and some food.
There is the other part of me…as I sit here alone…with a text from my daughter, but no other phone calls from friends or family and honestly not wanting to make any-so who can blame *them* for not caling me?
That just wants to chuck it all and fuck it all to hell. And fuck you too while I am at it.
I had a $1.00 turkey tv dinner for lunch. Likely some eggnog and peanut butter for supper.
I will just decide to have good days no matter what. It’s all about choice, right?
I’ve turned off the comments. This is not a pity party and I am not some charity event. It’s just fucking life.





