Sunday, January 28, 2007


This weekend, I realized that I have no coping skills left. Everything (and nothing) makes me cry and hollows me out. A song on the radio, a memory, a look, a phone call. I've lost all sense of perspective and ability to say, "Well, these things happen."

Do they really just happen? Are there people out there that can say things like that (and mean it)?

Zac was at my parents' house all weekend. My Dad picked him up from daycare on Friday and cursed his way through rush hour traffic. It took him almost two hours to get less than 25 miles. It took him so long that I once again question whether I should move down south to brave the daily commute to and from downtown Houston.

On Saturday, I had a five hour strategic planning meeting for an organization that I volunteer with. It was an incredibly long meeting that left me drained and not sure that I could even make it home before falling asleep. I fell asleep almost instantly and woke up 4 hours later, still childless and even more disconcerted.

I went shopping and found a skirt on the clearance rack at Anthropologie. It was so short that I'm not sure I could even wear it out by myself in public. I found a top on clearance at Macy's and congratulated myself for the fine clearance shopping and financial acumen. I went home and got dressed, then waited. I waited until 10:30pm and even started putting on my makeup and zipped my knee high boots up the side of my calf. At 11pm, I took everything off, knowing that I had to stop waiting and too afraid to go out by myself. I cried and went to bed.

On Sunday, I couldn't stop crying. I don't know what I'm doing wrong, what happened. A second friend called me and told me that he doesn't want to be friends with me anymore. I lost it. I feel so rejected and so disgusting.

I haven't cried this much since Zac was born. It's been almost every day for the last two weeks. I don't even really want to publish this post, but I feel better after writing it. Zac is in bed, asleep, so peaceful and happy. I, on the other hand, am losing my mind.

Edited to note: The friend that I was supposed to go out with on Saturday night was in contact with me this morning. I found out that he had to go to the hospital Saturday night for difficulties breathing. He apologized profusely for not contacting me sooner and for making me cry. Honestly, I just wish that someone from his family had called me so I could have been there to help him and his kids. It's the kind of thing that always goes through my mind when someone doesn't follow through with something that they say they are going to...that wandering thought, "I wonder if something happened..." It's awful when it really is something that happened.


LisaM said...

I have been reading your post for a little while now and tonight I just felt compelled to post because you just sound so sad. You just need to know that it is not you that has a problem. You are in such a vulnerable state and you would hope that your TRUE friends would be there for you to support you. If not, then they are certainly not your friends. I have been where you are now and I just have to tell you that there is hope for happiness, just maybe not right this second. Even though it seems to raining crap right now, the sun will shine again. I am now married to the most wonderful man in the world but for quite some time I had thought that I would never be happy again. So chin up and just focus on that wonderful little boy and yourself!!!

jenna said...


i'm sorry honey. i know how you feel, not the same circumstances, but the same not wanting to get out of bed feeling. i can't believe you were stood up on saturday night - WTF? and that other friend sounds pretty crass too. whatever. do what you need to do to get through the day. have you talked to your doc about new/different medication? sounds like you could use some help of the pharmalogical kind.

or i could quit law school and we could take zac and run away to europe and run a cafe and be ex-pats?

just a thought. :D

thordora said...

Getting stood up always makes me tip over from a bit sad to fucking depressed.

It sucks, and usually, people DO have a good reason. The bastards never call though.

Hang in there.

sarcastic journalist said...

Sweetie, I think it might be time to talk to someone. Just sometimes, talking to someone without a vested interest might make all the difference.

Anonymous said...

SJ said what I want to. Very nicely in fact.

Someone without a vested interest would be ideal. And it's not giving up because you need to talk to someone. Sometimes that's all we need.

Anonymous said...

Sorry, forgot to sign off on the above comment.


Pregnant In Texas said...

I'm looking for a good psychiatrist here in Houston that will take my insurance.

It's not as easy as it might sound. I've left voice messages for three doctors and I'm waiting to hear from them.

Anonymous said...

Do you have to talk to the dr himself before you can make an appointment?

Also, I know there are some free clinics around. Maybe see if they go by income level or a sliding scale of some sorts if the insurance thing doesn't work.

Thinking of you NSPIT.


sarcastic journalist said...

Psychiatrists are really hard to get in to. I highly suggest psychologists, many often will accept new patients.

I know because I've tried to go down both routes and I personally found that the psychologist was better. And then, if you do decide you need meds, you can see your regular doc for that one.

Or your local street pharmacist.

doow said...

I'm sorry you had such a crappy weekend. What is with these people who think that calling you to say awful things like that is acceptable behaviour? It's not and you deserve so much better. I hope you can find the help you need very soon.

Mr. Tugboat said...

Holy-crap woman, You've got the worst luck of anyone i know. I'll be on the 14th floor at 11:00. I'll come by after. You know the rules; If your gonna hit me, Do it below the chin. Insults are fine but leave the penis out of it. If that doesn't work we'll try a hug, some chocolate french-toast and a small sack of weed.

ps. If your gonna throw shit at me in the parking lot, please do it from below the 5th floor.