I feel like a little kid in the middle of a tantrum. I’m so frustrated and it’s so uncomfortable that I just want to whine about it. Not even copious television and junk food are soothing me. I just feel irritated and angry and like pouting.

I had a wonderful distraction in the form of a sweet boy. I had told Spouse I needed to date while we were separated and so I did. And it was nice. He was lovely; a friendship turned more. Exactly what I needed in order to remember some things that are important about me and to me. I am beyond grateful for this person. But now it’s over. And that’s good and right and honest, but it fucking sucks. He softened the blow of the pain of my separation and now I’m feeling the blow fully and it hurts.

And I’m alone.

I had felt alone in my marriage too, but at least then I had a story to tell myself. Now it’s just this. And me. And I don’t like it and I don’t want to do it. I want to run away from it. I want to sleep for five weeks, I want to numb it and ignore it and believe me, I’ve tried. But it isn’t working and it isn’t helping.

I am a petulant child and my inner-grown up seems to be forcing me towards a nap or vegetables.

I cry every day.

There are two iterations of a mantra that I keep thinking about:

1. The only way out is through.
2. If you’re going through hell, keep going.

I guess that’s all I can do.


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