It's been one month since having my heart broken. I still feel used and resentful every day but at least I'm not still sobbing and self medicating every waking hour. It's been hard to move forward with such few distractions due to covid. Meanwhile he's probably having a blast living with his best friend. I try not to focus on it too much, but there's not a lot else to focus on when I haven't left the house since then.
The next month and a half might be hard, since I'll also be battling a lack of vitamin D and warmth, and the dying breaths of this nightmare presidency. But retrograde ends in a few days? I'll try to be optimistic since no one is here to save me.
I'll probably use the last half-edible tonight, so maybe my motivation may gradually increase as I struggle with sobriety during the coldest darkest months of the year. I'm really trying my best, even though the mountain of dishes looks more astonishing than ever before. Like always I wish I had a mom, or a sister, or a reliable female friend. I have people, but no one that makes me feel understood in the ways I'd like, except for some acquaintances on the periphery who might make me feel disappointed too if we spent more time together.
I'm a little lonely, but so much lonelier with people. Studies say that's a sign of extreme intelligence. Well lucky me, I guess?
3:23 p.m. - 2020-11-11