3 of 40

Written on 1/30, not posted because yuck there's some gross stuff in here.

Ashamed. Afraid. Entitled. In need. Frozen. Grief-stricken. Jealous. Lacking. Down. That's an attempt to sum up what I feel like on the inside. I want to be stoned and sit in bed watching Scandal all day until I fall asleep again. I like being on the outside watching other characters maneuver through their lives. It doesn't matter that it's not real, that someone wrote the scripts for them. I want Shonda to write my script so I can stop thinking about what to say, what to do.

So so tired.

I didn't drive to an airport and I'm so grateful to the people who did. I haven't called my rep for weeks. Unopened bundles of Times sit in piles inside and outside the house. Shorn piles of branches and leaves, the detritus of the hours of yardwork my husband did yesterday while I lay in bed. I feel like nothing.

My kids practically live at Stephanie's and I feel sad about that.



I can't work harder. That I can't do.So I need to do things differently. But I can't figure out how or

I feel mad at everyone else. Blaming everyone else. But then it must be me right?

I feel guilty not having my kids when I'm not at work. I don't allow myself that.

I appreciate how Shonda holds up "normal" as a goal but not really a good thing

I don't speak for white women. I feel called to stand up for others just at a time when I'm finally learning to stand up for myself. And I resent it even though I know it is my responsibility. And god that is painful to admit.

I picutred moments I would remember. Moments when I could feel it. Instead it feels like a hurricane. And I can't savor it because I'm just waiting for it to be over. So I can be alone.

And since I seem to imagine things in a better light than they could ever be, I'm afraid that my feeling of wanting to be home with the kids actually will make me miserable like I was before. I can't trust myself.