It’s a real bad week. I’m not gonna try and make it all pretty. I hate myself for getting this low and for the reasons behind it, but I’m a hot mess. (One of you is thinking if I stopped listening to the country music I’d be better off…I know it). I’m on pain pills and laying here on the couch crying. I’ve gone from crying MAYBE once a year to the little explosive teapot. And I’m not gonna pretend I’m ok.
I’m really over my life right now. I lost some friendships last month. And before that I had been drinking too much. I found someone I thought I could trust and had gotten comfortable with (and fuck it if I didn’t let that devil Hope creep in) and the plug got pulled on that for reasons that have nothing to do with me. Or maybe that’s the BS I feed myself just to keep some shred of fucking dignity. I didn’t see that coming. You’ll have that. It is whatever it is.
Maybe it’s because I’m not as strong a woman as I thought. But I’m really over being strong. In fact, I have played the crusader for years. Climbed the ladder at work to pave the way for others. But honestly I look at the whiney, petty crap I hear from the women at work and realize I wasted my fuckin time. I was the strong, independent single woman. Didn’t need a soul but had my friends to get by. Bought this house. Have a fast & classy (sarcastic) car in the driveway. Worked so hard to get it. God the shit I swallowed and humiliation it took to acquire things. And the bullshit I kept around me! Lawd so much bullshit from people and loved them anyway. Cause that’s what the gurus say to do. I found so many silver linings the last decade. I threw so much fucking glitter and told myself tomorrow was gonna be awesome.
Well here we are and it’s tomorrow. I’m 34 and single with no prospects, no kids, my family is 600 miles away, this house is empty and lonely, my dog is dying and she is the closest thing to a family, my job isn’t what I love. I have lost about 30 lbs this year. I have a tan and a rocking body. Oh I get so damned tired of hearing what a catch I’ll be! Well listen here, apparently I’m not in season or the fisherman went on strike. Or maybe I bite the wrong fucking bait EVERY time. And FYI I
am NOT gonna get blown away for being this skinny. Unless its a tornado or hurricane so quit saying that stupid shit. Again, I worked exceptionally diligently to get here. Keep your opinion of my body to yourself.
My homework from my therapist is to make a list of what love is and what are deal breakers to me in a relationship. Something tells me when I turn in that assignment we’ll get to hear how I have been off track on some of my ideas concerning love. Well, again, the strong me will dust off and dive into being a better person with a greater understanding. Fuck that. In case you missed the above, I am not up for it. I’m weak. Clearly. Maybe the strong woman pushing through the last decade was the facade.
I’ll tell you, for someone not feeling strong I’ve been contemplating for days which wall I can punch and cover up with photos. Maybe it’s a breakdown. It’s been coming. Read the blog from day one. It’s no surprise.
It probably boils down to something as simple as human connection. Or maybe I over connected. Gave too much of a shit and lended a hand to people I should have punched in the face. Dated some guys who just need a kick in their tiny balls.
I said earlier the latest connection I didn’t see the rug being pulled. But as I look at myself, I get it. I’m over being strong. I don’t need saving; I am not up for saving anyone else either. But if you think you can bring a smile and save me, you better be one hell of a man who doesn’t scare easily. I require a strong man who isn’t afraid. Who can pull me out of my little funks like this one. No fuck that, I need a man whose been thru hell and has been equally strong in his life and can look me in the eye and say he’s been here. You never wondered if The Lord was willing and felt the creek rise? then I don’t want you. There, we have an entry on the list: deal breaker–shit gets tough and he ducks and don’t fight or confront it, then he’s out. Don’t let my foot get to your ass before the door hits it. Cause let’s be real: this too shall pass and I’ll keep fighting. When I snap out of this I’ll be that girl who doesn’t give up.
This isn’t a cry for help. I don’t want anyone telling me it will get better. I just don’t. I’m angry and this shit is between me and God right now. I just wanted to vent and make sure you know where I’m coming from. If I don’t smile or say good morning, this is why. I want some Michael Jackson drugs. I need a coma. I just need a break from my own brain. It gets really exhausting being the only noise in this house.
APRYL.ME 
It doesn’t get better. Your odds of finding that “someone special” dramatically decrease with every year past age 30. It’s nothing to do with you, just the odds game: How many good guys are there out there that are worth marrying after the age of 30? It’s nothing to do with age, but simply people have usually long since settled down by age 30. Those that haven’t are generally doomed to singles-ville forever. Sure, you can dip into the age pool and try for someone younger than you, and yes, sometimes that works. But sometimes even just a difference of a few years can mean a lot. I know people that the primary reason they stay together is because they’re past the 30’s age barrier and it would simply be too much of a pain in the ass to start dating again, so they’ve technically given up to blaise-ness.
Ultimately, romantic love is based on the foundation of trust. Without that trust, love cannot exist. Not a lot of people are trusting, or are trustworthy these days. But what you’ve got to do, Pryl, is realize that perhaps also, your odds are significantly lowered by your immediate area. The coast is dominated by old people, and young families. Everyone else moves away.
You ARE a good catch, Apryl. You are a very pretty girl with a great heart, but you don’t have any fishermen in this sea. Have you ever given thought to possibly moving to another part of the country?
Absolutely! I think about it a lot. I’m a little torn. I made this my home but now I miss Texas and family. But believe me, if you think odds are low here, go to Sherman, TX LMAO!!! I wouldn’t hesitate to move if it felt right, Kneel.