So often, I open and close this page. Sometimes multiple times a day. I don’t know what to say. I have words, but I’m not sure I can or should share them. I doubt my own voice, that anyone cares to hear the crazy that is currently in my head. I know that’s not true. I know all of you come back here, because you do care. It’s just me, being me.

I worry that I’m too depressing. Nothing new, I know. I could probably look back over the past six months of posts and see that same sentence over and over again. For that, I’m sorry.

Last week something happened that knocked me flat. A phone call, from a douche bag who shall remain nameless. It stopped me in my tracks. Made me question every thing. Made me scared to the core of my being. Not for any real reason, just because of who it was. It knocked me on my ass in a way, that I have yet to recover from. Yet again, I’ve let that douche take away my power. I hate myself for that.

I hate myself for ending my vacation that way. For letting it slide me into depression the way that it has. I wish I could say that differently, to not say that I hate myself for things, but I can’t. Not today. Not this week. Maybe not for awhile.

Divorce sucks. Can I just say that? Divorce sucks. My life, my world, down to pieces of paper. My life, in so many ways,  decided for me, for the next sixteen years. I don’t know what to do with that either. Not by a long shot.

It’s the small things you notice. The small things that remind me. Things like I am scared of heights and have been one handed, so I used a living room light in my kitchen for two weeks, because I couldn’t reach the kitchen lights to change them. I finally had to call him to come change them, because I knew my mom was about to show up.

Things like, I got in my rental car last week and had to adjust the seat. I cried, because I realized it had been four months since I’d had to adjust the seat in my car. It’s something that used to drive me nuts. But it was sad.

Things like, I went and saw a chick flick on Sunday night. Alone. Which isn’t a big deal, except all the movies I see now are chick flicks and kid movies. I haven’t had to take turns on my movie choice in months. Funny, but I miss that silly argument over whose turn it is this time.

I worry about everything. I don’t know how to stop. I feel like I have no control over my own life right now, so I just fret about all the small things. Which is dumb, since I can’t control those things either. I worry about my kids and how much I’m screwing them up. I worry about the fact that I have no idea what I want in life. I worry about being too much work for my best friends. Basically? I worry a lot.

It’s not all bad you know? My life? It’s not. I have great kids, a decent house, amazing friends and I do know one day, I’ll figure some of this out. It’s just that when I open this page lately,  it tends to be when I’m struggling. I am right now. I’m struggling.