Pity, Party of One

I am not proud to admit this, but I am having a self-pity day. And that drives me absolutely insane. I am not the kind of person who will accept this kind of behavior/mood from anyone, and especially not from myself. Is there anything more annoying?

When I attempt to show friends and family who wallow in their pathetic “poor me” attitudes that I am (ahem) understanding, I always tell them to go ahead and take a day to feel sorry for yourself. ONE day. Then put on your big boy or girl panties and go figure your shit out.

Well, apparently today is my day. So humor me. Save the tough love for tomorrow.

I’m really not sure why I’m feeling this way, why today of all days. Even at my lowest points I kept on soldiering on, avoiding the emotion that I had every right to feel (in my opinion, anyway). Sure, everyone has problems. What makes mine so different or special? Suck it up, buttercup.

But today, I cried. I curled up into the fetal position. I felt completely alone and helpless. I asked, “why? why me?”

I hate this. Now I have a migraine.

  • Maybe it’s because I’m ridiculously tired — I haven’t been sleeping well for a few weeks now, and I haven’t been able to get to bed or fall asleep at a reasonable hour. (yes, perhaps this is my fault, but what can I do. Even going to bed early isn’t helping. If I could see without my glasses I would be watching the clock for hours).
  • Well no shit. Thanks for the memo.

    Maybe it’s because I’m sad — for whatever reason, I am really missing my brother lately. I think it’s finally hit me that I will never, ever see him, hear him, or talk to him again. That’s a lot to take in. And it blows.

  • Maybe it’s because I realize that my marriage is beyond repair and soon, I will be living alone again. That I will be dating again. It’s a different world out there than it was the last time I was single and that is terrifying. And regardless of what happened and why, I miss (and will continue to miss) my husband terribly.
  • Maybe it’s because I am scattered, disorganized and discombobulated. I am type A, dammit!! This is not supposed to happen! So when it does, it’s like a free fall.
  • Maybe it’s because my buried insecurity is rearing its ugly head and I’m focusing on my failures, shortcomings and mistakes instead of my accomplishments and achievements.
  • Maybe it’s because I kind of selfishly want to be rescued. Not in a damsel in distress kind of way, but I need a great big hug from a friend, male or female, who will let me cry uncontrollably for as long as I need to, without feeling the need to tell me it’s fine and everything will be all right. Because maybe it won’t be.

So anyway, this is my day. Thank you for your understanding. I will return to my regularly scheduled bad-ass bitch broad tomorrow.

4 Replies to “Pity, Party of One”

  1. Laura,
    It’s ok to feel what you are feeling. You have gone through a lot over the last almost 2 years since Luke passed. You lost your brother, quit your job to start a new adventure and now you are dealing with a change in your marriage. IT IS OK to take a day or however long it takes for YOU! It is ok to cry, to feel sad, to feel angry or whatever emotions there are inside of you. You have the support of so many people. As far as I am concerned, there is no need to “suck it up”. Do what you need to do for YOURSELF!! After all you deserve to care of YOU!


  2. {{{here’s your hug}}} Imma pour some wine while you cry, but i’ll bring you the big cup…and we’ll just watch stupid movies and laugh at dumb people…we’ll clean our messy houses tomorrow!

  3. Laura,

    I wish I lived close by you…i would bring over vegan treats and we could watch sappy movie and cry all day long …it breaks my heart that you feel alone, but please remember that we are all here…we all love you, and follow you, and care about you..i know that you know that you have a ton of friends…but ..everyone needs their day…thats what Tylenol and Nyquil were made for. Love ya

Leave a Reply

This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.