I'm probably going to get into trouble with some things I say in this post, Idk.

There is nothing anyone can say which will convince me that I wasn't to blame.

I snooped on my ex-fiance's FB yesterday just...because. I never do; it's been years since I've known what he's up to. His life is so normal--beautiful wife, two kids, happy life in the suburbs. That could have been my life if I'd just been a normal, pleasant person. He was pretty horrid do me, calling me derogatory names, hitting me, etc. But he doesn't do that. It was just with me. Because no one can stand to be around me

I've ruined every friendship and relationship I've touched. I don't care what J was like; there were flashes where I could see this man cared about me. And he is right; I'm too sick to talk to. I'm an unpleasant person. I'm too stressful to be around.

My friends have just given up on talking to me. I try to tell them how I'm feeling; they don't reply anymore.

I just realized this morning that it's been days since I've left my apartment. I've been having groceries delivered because I don't really want to make the effort to interact with other people. I don't trust them. What's the point?

I realize that I don't care about my body anymore.

****trigger

I'm binging and purging. Or, rather, I just can't reliably keep food down.

****trigger

I did an experiment on OkC...when I was on there looking for something real, and indicating that, I was getting a moderate amount of hits. But people would just message with me endlessly, never ask me out. This has been my experience for years and years on those sites. I changed my status to looking for a hookup. Amazingly, I've had offers for dates this weekend.

I've come to understand through this whole experience that this is all I'm good for.

I've started smoking regularly, which is something I haven't done in about 15 years. Back then, it was just a social thing, going out to the bars when you used to be able to smoke in them. But I'm at about a pack a day. Who cares though? What, am I going to get sick and die? Who cares?

If I could get my hands on anything heavier, I would be using. I just don't care anymore. Why?

40 years old, I've never been married. I've never had a solid friend group. I've never had family to rely on. The only thing I've ever wanted in my life is to rise above the wreck of my childhood and create my own home unit--me and another person, and we'd just do our own little thing. That's who J was supposed to be. That's what he led me to believe he wanted. But I've learned over the years that no one wants that from me. And over 20 years of trying to date, I've come to understand that it's not going to happen.

For me, the career doesn't matter. I hate my job. I don't want to go back. I can barely function hour to hour as it is. My pdoc asked if I wanted to go to the hospital. Why? I've been so many times. Why? So I can sit in on group therapies that I've listened to way too many times? So they can put me on yet another cocktail of meds that'll make me gain another 30lbs and put me further into depression? What is the ****ing point?

I feel so stuck. I don't want to do this anymore. I'm tired of reaching out, tired of remembering what happened with J, tired of remembering the awful things he said, tired of remembering his hands on me and how his eyes went blank.

I'm a throwaway person.