I suppose I’m a Ms. now. Not that I am not still a Mrs. but I’m not quite yet a Miss, so probably, I’d be concidered a proper Ms.
I’d always hated that term. Ms. It always seemed to me the title of a woman who wasn’t married but didn’t want the world to know.
I don’t feel like doing anything but feeling sorry for myself. I’m depressed as hell and still in tremendous pain.
I though for sure I’d be walking along fine weeks ago but I am far from it. And scared of what is wrong that’s preventing me from doing so.
It makes me angry that I can’t skip.
The weather is so beautiful outside and all I can do is try (unsuccessfully) to find a comfortable way to sit while thinking about all of the things I’d like to be doing.
I’d like to plant my garden.
I’d like to go for a long walk.
I’d like to paint the window frames and the door in the kitchen then hang up their new mistreatments.
I’d like to go shopping for some new clothes.
Or take the kids on a weekend trip.
I can’t do any of it.
I can’t wait until my Orthopedic appointment on Friday, to hopefully find out what is wrong with me.
I want to be happy and laugh and smile.
But in reality, I whimper and I hobble and I cry. A lot.
I feel sorry for myself and wish this wasn’t really my life.
But I wished that before, when he was here.
This IS my new life.
Someday things will feel good and sweet again.
But now as of now, my heart is broken. Torn in shreds.
Why did it have to be like this?
Why did I wait for him to change for so long?
I saved up over 350$ more than 2 months ago but never crossed it off my list. At least I had a reserve because I’ve done nothing else.