At Least I Am Not Drinking

All I want to do is sleep and read. I haven’t cleaned the house in two months, maybe more. I want to curl up and see no one, do nothing. If I am up, I just want to be reading. This is hard. I wish I was better prepared for this. I can’t tell anyone except my mom. My friends are too young or already married with kids. There is no one I know of that is going through this. I am afraid it’s only going to get worse. It just seems like it already is. Days are hard. Everything makes me think of it. Talking to people, looking at people. I distract myself with books. I think of new things to read about. But nothing can take the place of something that’s not happening. Last night I sat in the car in the driveway and cried on the phone to my dad and mom. I admitted to my ex how hard it is to be a woman and that he should be glad he’s not. Every day that goes by feels wasted. Every cycle that comes is a vicious reminder. I can’t believe how badly I want kids. I never would have thought this would be me.