My T actually met with me for over our usual hour today. I think she was worried about me. I'm really not doing well. I really feel very hopeless. And I can't seem to get out of my head. She said I needed to get out of my apartment this weekend. Easier said than done--as I said, there is no one around. Friends aren't answering texts, no one wants to hang out. Just got back from the grocery store...couldn't be there long; I thought I was going to melt down right in the aisle.

I don't know how I'm going to work on Sunday. I haven't even managed to touch the pile of laundry I've been meaning to get to for two days. I bought myself stuff for dinner, but I just put it in the refrigerator; I don't have the energy to make it.

My T asked today if I've ever been in a relationship or been involved with a man who gave me a healthy amount of attention, attention I didn't have to basically push for. And I realized that the answer is no, unless you count my little high school boyfriends, and I don't even remember them. My first adult relationship, with J, started out alright. He was very attentive, bringing coffee with poetry written on the cup to work or flowers. Our first Christmas together was super special with thoughtful and meaningful gifts. And then, suddenly, it fell apart, and the attention and affection stopped. I felt abandoned. He used to do things like make plans with me, then totally forget to meet me because he was out fishing. The next guy, R, just basically still had former booty calls contacting him while I was spending the night. And we all know about JD. I don't need to talk about the intermittent dates I had in between all of them who basically ignored me into nonexistence. I know I'm ruminating, but I can't help it. All I've ever wanted, since I was 20 years old, was my own little family. I've worked to make a life for myself, worked on myself since J and R, worked to build up my own self-worth, thought I was alright, thought I didn't need anything but the life I was leading. But I do. The thing is that it doesn't seem that I am worth much to people. I'm not worth giving much attention...to anyone, friend or otherwise. I'm just ****ing done, done trying to work on myself to be a better person and friend. It hasn't worked, obviously.

My T asked today if I felt we needed to focus more on my mother and the abandonment issues and I was like, heck, I don't know. Who cares? I've been in therapy for that since I was 16. Doesn't seem to make a damn bit of difference. It doesn't seem like anything I work on makes a bit of difference; I'm still 38, still alone, and still likely will remain that way. I'm kind of just over trying.

I don't see myself continuing this way.