Have you been following Facebook’s latest viral post “love your spouse” challenge? Couples post for 7 days pictures and verse on why they love their spouse and how wonderful their marriages are.
Ok, can we just stop? First, great you have an amazing life – or at least you feel enough pressure to pretend you do to keep friends and family happy. Secondly, shut the fuck up. Couples already have from October through April to celebrate their awesomeness. We get inundated with their sappy love from commercials to social media.
I get it. I’m single. The world views me as less than all the rest of the mated mammals. It’s evident with every party I go to which I’m the only single person in the room. I get to hear your banter and watch your loving touch. I get it universe! You don’t need to send me more reasons to hate being unmatched in this world where couplehood is held at the highest keel of achievement.
Lately I’ve been feeling superficial, even more than usual. I don’t feel I have deep roots in any part of my life. Longevity, sure. Purpose and/or value no.
Shifts in life always makes one evaluate where they stand and what they mean in the bigger picture. And having my oldest move into adulthood had triggered this feeling somewhat. It seems more widespread than an empty nest syndrome. I’m giving myself in various areas – work, family, friends,community, but I’m not feeling fulfilled or meaningful.
Recently, I spent several days with folks who seemed to have deeper roots in the world. They were in committed relationships and involved with bigger projects that impacted more than themselves. Of course, it’s all just what I can observe from the conversations we had. Who knows, maybe they feel as directionless as I do.
I am stuck feeling envious of others. I want to take a sabbatical, I just don’t know where or to do what. I’m so far out of touch I can’t even figure out what my soul is yearning for. This is a new place for me to be so far from center that I’m scared of being swolled up by the loss. I need a sense of purpose. To be important to someone. To be valued – not for what I give, but for who I am. Perhaps I’m feeling too much like dust in the wind.
A month ago I was involved in a legal case. I spent weeks gather years of historical information – personal, financial. It was emotionally exhausting having to collect old documents and re-live the painful memories.
I carried file folders of information back and forth from home to work to the lawyers office. Reviewing, rehashing, explaining my case in hopes of finding some sort of justice. It opened old wounds, made me vulnerable and tore me apart to try to teach me strength. Exhausting.
The case is over, yet I still have all the paperwork in my bag. It sits there while I load in all the things I need for work – lunches, wallet, keys, changes of shoes, work files. My bag is heavy and weighed down. I look like I’m packing for a weeks trip. Every day. I carry all these unneeded, unwanted reminders of the history I’m trying to break free from. Every day.
My shoulders hurt. I look ridiculous. I leave things out that could actually be useful in my dAily life. All because I refuse – for some unknown reason – to take out these papers that I’m through with. At first, my excuse was because I need to shred papers. I have a secure shred bin at work steps from my office. Then I began thinking I might need it in the future – which I won’t. And now I think I carry it because it justifies my sadness which walks with me every day.
My literal baggage which needs to be tossed is fueling my emotional baggage which is keeping me from happiness. What an incredibly easy fix. Could it be as simple as freeing myself from the physical representation to finally end this feeling of being alone? Honestly, how often do I end up making my life more complicated than it has to be?
I received a package from my mom that was filled with clothes entirely too big for me. She just saw me and still couldn’t buy clothes in my size. Even after telling her. And I lost it.
Tears. Crocodile tears uncontrollably coming out of my eyes.
I went into my room, undressed and laid down in my sadness. I wasn’t crying because of the clothes, it was simply was one more disappointment over the last month.
I was crying because of stress, because of being alone, because I am unlovable, and because I am quantified by my mis-shapened body. Because, as much as I try, I cannot find a deeper connection in life. Tears fell down my face and into my ears. I am alone. I am so far from where I thought I’d be when I hit midlife. I’m questioning what is the future in my career.
It’s an epic breakdown. Everything I’ve been holding in because it wasn’t appropriate to release came streaming out.
I’ve tied a knot at the end of my rope so many times there ends are fraying. And I fell asleep. Resting for 20 minutes. My mind stopped over thinking. My heart stopped aching. I reset.
And once again, will fight the good fight to be accepting of me and my future.
The universe put on its spiked golf shoes and danced and Irish dance upon my soul. A fifth wheel meeting I had earlier this week reminded me how cruel reality can be. The other two sets paired up for various reasons and I was left there with only my phone. The cold technology created isolation. I stood in the sun, but the Rays could not fill my empty being. Heated debate and hushed whispered conversations were the only sounds echoing in the solitude.
Recently, as I’ve seen my reflection in mirrors and pictures. I only see the flaws – the things society tells me are imperfect. The things which seem to be the obvious reasons I’m still an unmated woman. And I wonder if it’s time,mince again, to take down my dating profile. No one of substance is reaching out to me which builds on the negative flurry of thoughts.
On the flip side, I’ve had recent conversations with someone who reflects back to me an immensely different image than anyone has ever spoken. He tells me I’m organized, well thought out and articulate. He says I’m reasonable and string under pressure. In my nearly 50 years of life,Mathis has never been the way one would describe me. Since I was a child, I’ve been labeled emotional. My temperament is more described as frantic than it is stable. People talk down to me, simplify things and dismiss me because they don’t think I have the ability to grasp logic.
I see myself as sane – well for the most part. At times, I do see myself as strong and capable, but much like the dating sites which dismiss me for my lack of attractiveness, most people in my life dismiss me as irrational and fragile. When I hear the words and feel the,mresonate deep within, I wonder if there is a glimmer of truth being spoken.
Yes, I stand alone waiting for the two couples to return. I contemplate, what if they are the weak ones not able to stand alone against the storm? What if they are the ones with flaws that can only be smoothed through mashing of the two souls? What if I am the victor in this after all?
The title of my next novel will be, I left the celery in the fridge too long and it wilted. My doctor believes I am pre-menopausal which wasn’t the most awesome news I could have received, especially since I’m in the midst of trying to find myself a mate to join my journey.
The online dating world already is difficult enough, but to add on the changes of life makes it seem futile. I mean, what man would actively sign up to be with an already emotional woman who will have a surge of mood swings? no one raises their hands. I haven’t been incredibly successful finding someone interested when I was somewhat sane!
This digital world wants to see a woman who is on the verge of pornstar mixed with the girl next door. One who will ride a Harley, but shut down the room when she walks in with stiletto heels and diamonds. She must be adventurous, athletic, and domineering while at the same time subservient, non-threatening, and a stereotypical feminine.Now you add in vaginal dryness and lower sex drive? Yes Please, may I live in a strictly platonic relationship for the rest of my years on earth or have my cock rubbed with sandpaper every time I’m aroused – said no man ever.
How do I ask a partner to make a commitment to me when I’m tossing and turning in my sleep and sweating through sheets? An attractive package I have to offer eh?
So what’s the point? It’s evident from the last 5 years of trying to find a “soul-mate” – or rather just a mate – that I am highly unattractive to the opposite sex. Well, besides the occasional romp in the sack. So now I come to the party with the heighten physical and emotional state of ending my reproductive years with my hands out begging for scraps of attention? No thank you!
I’ve been fighting it for years now, but I think I need to grieve the idea of being mated up and learn to accept the singlehood of my life. I need to stop fighting the waves which continue to drown me and simply give into the ride out to the sea. Hi, I’m confessions, and I will be your third wheel, 7th wheel, 21st wheel for the remainder of the ride.
Unsurpisedly, I am out of my mind with stress. Unanswered questions lead to over reaction of my anxiety which leads to sleepless nights and crazy thoughts through out the day.
Because of a few things happening in life I haven’t been able to get to the gym to work out the stress with the natural rush of endorphins which has lead to even more stress and anxiety.
3 in the morning guys and in able to stop my mind, I try to force meditation. Middle finger tip to thumb, I concentrate on the energy moving though my body. I imagine the chaos rushing through my cells. I being to name the emotions and u tangle the ball. Helpless. Hopeless. Disconnected. Alone. Isolated. Angry. Depressed. Panicked.
Slowly I can address each feelings, acknowledge it, validate it and move on to the next. My breathing gets deeper. Yes, these are real emotions. Yes, there are real reasons for each. Are they out of perspective because of the darkness of the night? Yes. Are these manageable? Yes.
I make a plan of action for the morning and mentally fold it away. Now it’s time to concentrate on a happier place of tranquility to allow sleep to finally come. I’m not done with what’s stressing me out, and I still have a long period before its complete, but for now I need self care. For now, I need to find a way to give me the love I seek from others.