“Spin around, fall down then do it again.”

“Yeah you stumble and you fall….why won’t you ever learn…”

I’m trying this optimism thing, lately,  in the midst of a second wind of feeling incredibly sad since January. I mean, it could work. I can turn this around, swear to myself that I’m okay, move on with being me and figuring it out, alone. And I’m trying to. I’m not the only one with problems in this world. At least that train wrecked before there were more than two casualties aboard. At least I got to be a part of my brother’s life. At least, at least. But is it wrong to get a little hungry, a little tired of the at leasts? I need perspective,  to be grateful, to be humble, to be optimistic, to be better, and my favorite, to not ‘spew venom’ about my ex husband (it’s my most favorite because I know you are right, and I don’t much like it) lately. All kinds of things. But it is choosing those things that is hard. It is so hard. And I’m working on me. I’m obliterated but “it could be worse” so let’s move along, shall we?

I’m realizing I have no fucking clue, not one iota, on how the opposite sex ‘ s dubious brain works. I missed that part of growing up. I thought I’d already found what I wanted, I never looked for anything else. I have friends tell me they remind my current dating woes of themselves…when they were teenagers.
It’s so fucking accurate.  Whatever the hell has happened in the past 8 months of rebound with various male beings…ugh… it gives me headache thinking about it. I want to believe the best of people, I feel like i get to know someone pretty well before I let them in. But then I find myself alone again, wondering what the fuck just happened, and why the hell I’m blaming myself for whichever recent collapse I’m crawling out of,  and why I was so willing to give parts of myself away, like that.
I don’t want this year to make me bitter.  I have this scared little bird in my head telling me that it’s because I’m wounded and giving and loving, and just this great soundboard for other people’s problems…and so then I do that, I be that…and then I’m not like…I’m not…I don’t get to be more than that. Even if attempts are made. I’m getting a little tired of it. I  guess I can take all this and use it as a guide to heather is obviously not okay enough right now and here’s why.

Some days I post optimistic instagrams. Those same days I contemplate resolving my romance woes by making a wardrobe of t-shirts that state, in glitter font, “divorced depressed girl with daddy/abandonment issues and a dead brother. Don’t fucking even.” That should do the trick. #catsforalways