The Remarkable Ms. Jane Smith

My story? I lost myself. I'm finding myself. I do this through my stories... publicly shared yet anonymous.

[the-remarkable-mrs-smith]

September 2nd

Details don’t matter, but we ended up going to my favorite event Sunday. Afterwards we were supposed to do shrooms and hang out all day today.

Instead when we got back to my place, we talked about being together. It hurts too much for me and he doesn’t want to give up his freedom.

So instead of having sex, I sent him home.

He was going to think about whether he wanted to be with me or fuck random women, he didn’t get back to me, so… I think I know his answer.

He said I was a good girlfriend, and a great lover… but I’m not bisexual and am not a fan of him dating other women, blowing me off, and going to orgies.

I thought we had a connection, but whatever it was, it wasn’t enough to keep him with me.

And I’m okay with that… I’m a little sad because I had feelings for him. But I also love me, so I’m okay with letting go of someone who makes me feel bad.

[memeuplift]

[the-remarkable-mrs-smith]

Why isn’t anyone talking about how Trump raped a 13 year old girl then threatened to kill her family if she told?

[memewhore]

[the-remarkable-mrs-smith]

I’m sad.

The only person who might read this is Mr. Ewing and me. Mr. Ewing, who does not exist in my world.

I’m alone and feeling sad. My mom is dead and the message I keep getting is that she never meant to hurt me.

No one… ever meant to hurt me.

Mr. Ewing… never meant to hurt me.

And I only mention him because he doesn’t exist in my world and yet he is a person who if he showed up at my door the immense happiness I would feel…

… it would be immense.

But he doesn’t exist… not in my world, he has his own world with Bitchwife, her kids, his kids, a cool cabin somewhere, dishes that he washes, his pets, his job, school… and a blip of a person who was THE LAST person I’ve slept with on July 24th, 2023.

AND I don’t remember the sex… I just know it happened, I remember him standing at my door and falling in love with him again… I remember the tears in my eyes and how good it was to see him because I was so lost in that moment. He laid with me and he just let me talk for hours about nothing that I remember.

He’s one person who knows me.

And he’s about as present in my life as my dead mother and sister… there, yet definitely NOT there.

I have no one… not really. Exbf last night asked to borrow $4K from me. Over a month’s salary. I might actually have the money, but it was earmarked for other things. He sold his property… they close Mid-March. I don’t know what to think of it. I’m feeling vulnerable and I don’t think I’m comfortable loaning him that huge amount.

I’m depressed. I wanted to move across country for a job I thought I was going to get, but I didn’t… they forgot they had even told me they were going to reach out for an interview.

I’m depressed, I don’t like my job and I just want to lay in bed and sleep.

I don’t have people. I pretend to get along. I don’t feel loved. I feel disconnected… I am disconnected. I hate people. I have to get up to go to work and I don’t even want to shower.

I’m fat and I don’t want to do anything about it. The men that I’ve dated are insane… but I’m not feeling too good myself.

I just want to be held by Mr. Ewing … transported to that afternoon where I had him ALL TO MYSELF and I felt safe and loved and he held space for me.

But… for all intents and purposes … he’s dead to me too.

Who do I have in my life? People who do not show up for me or people who sporadically show up for me. I am not good today.

I’m existing. I’ll go to work. Do the things I need to do to do. Be polite. Smile. Laugh. Hug the kids who come to me for a hug. Listen to the kids who need to be listened to.

Be alone but with others.

Be insecure. Be awkward. Be alone. I’m alone. I’m alone. Struggling because I just want to be held.

Tomorrow I drive to San Antonio for the funeral… I’ll have to drop of my dog with my exbf who wants my weed and money. He’s the only one who listens to me when I cry… over the phone… at a distance… he’s also dying and is losing his mind… but he’s also maybe the few people who will hug me.

Fuck. I feel low and my therapist still wants me to process my feelings about my mother?

How about… I feel disconnected. I’m on this planet and feel totally disconnected and I can’t trust anyone… I’m hurting… and I can’t seem to get rid of this cough.

And me not being on this planet would just be a burden to my family. Maybe I am not special. Maybe I just exist for others… to make them feel good. I’m like a thing on the shelf that you just occasional admire, but really don’t see or use everyday.

Fuck. I’m in such a bad headspace. I need to do better.

[the-remarkable-mrs-smith]

My mom, I think, is dying.

[taproot-bread]

[typhlonectes]

[the-remarkable-mrs-smith]

“Desire is the memory of pleasure and fear is the memory of pain. Both make the mind restless.”

Nisargatta Maharaja

[memeuplift]

[thecrossroads]

Trump meets the Honeymooners

[the-remarkable-mrs-smith]

Trust… it’s a thing

Last Wednesday, I asked Source to help me heal from all of my trust issues. Which means that I will be given opportunities to learn about trust.

Which YAY… I’m about to go through hard shit. 😑

Today is one of those days.

My new principal pulled me out of class to tell me that my friends at school are not my friends. There are people here who are “trying to throw me under the bus.”

After last year, where my job was being threaten right and left, I thought I had room to breath. Nope.

I’m looking for the lessons. I’m trying to breath through the ache in my stomach where I’m holding my anxiety.

Do I trust myself?

Do I love myself?

Do I trust and love source?

What does that all look like?

[saywhat-politics]

[the-remarkable-mrs-smith]

10/1/23

I’m still here. Sometimes I wonder why and what for. It’s a thing navigating this world alone, yet down the hall my daughter is home for the weekend. She’s here for a game, her boyfriend is here. I drove home from a few days away to see my extended family and returned at 1:30 am and I haven’t greeted my daughter yet. I’m tired. The cat woke me at 5:55 am meowing outside my door, and I looked at my phone to see that the man who I had been excited to have a first date with today, cancelled. Family stuff. He’d call me later. He’ll be unavailable for several days.

💔

You know I’ve been lonely. I’ve been trying to be cool. I’ve been trying to adjust to not dating, to being alone, and then…

… bam. A new man falls into my world, but I think it’s a trick. He’s not here. Don’t get excited. Go back to your regularly scheduled alone time.

Daughter is down the hall, but will probably wake up and take off.

Me. I don’t know what to do with myself except TRY to get OUT of this funk. It would help if it were cooler. I hate the heat.

My mind is neg. Am I creating my neg world? Is this all a simulation? Why am I here?

Fuck. I need to yoga and coffee. Fucking this world. Can I get to the happy part? Can I get to the part of my commercial where I am being held by the man that I love, a gentle breeze blowing my hair, we’re smiling and the world is our oyster?

Or am I to be alone in this world because I am meant to be alone… or is this temporary… or is this a simulation… or is this me struggling on the brink of insanity or is this me on the brink of waking up to a fucking new dimensional reality and I’m struggling to get my egg shell off?

Both?

Neither?

Get coffee?

Have the people in my life kept me in my egg? Eggs would be lovely for breakfast. lol

Alfred E Newman once said, “why so serious,” and maybe the Joker, too.

Is everything a joke? Our struggles? That we choose to struggle? That my ass is still in bed when I could get my robe on and make some fucking coffee and start enjoying the damn day… maybe that’s the joke.

My intention: to enjoy this day, whatever it may bring.

And fucking get up and get some coffee.

[the-remarkable-mrs-smith]

Woke up. I’m still here. Wrote another long rambling existential crisis type post and then… it didn’t save. 🤷🏻‍♀️😒✌🏻

[the-remarkable-mrs-smith]

So… I am not okay.

The loneliness is getting to me, but I don’t have any close people. I have children (grown) but they are preoccupied with their lives.

Work… is work. I pretend to like it and sometimes I do, but it wears me out. Fucking how would you like to be interrupted agazillion times when you’re just trying to spit a sentence out.

I have trust issues and trauma, so I can’t be in a relationship.

Love myself… ah, yeah, sure. I love me eating by myself. Walking by myself. Doing laundry by myself. Sitting in my house watching TikToks by myself.

It’s not like I don’t have friends, but they aren’t all the time friends. One is, only sometimes when she is ALSO not exhausted by teaching. The other is someone who I call on the way to work.

I’m down to two friends.

Mr. Ewing spent a loving afternoon with me 49 days ago… I am sure I will never see him again. I keep asking. He keeps saying he’s too busy with the “real” people in his life.

I am not “real”.

People are too busy to be with me.

Me… I am only suppose to go to work and whatever outside of that… no one cares or knows about.

I am writing this in bed.

I’m tired and cannot sleep.

I long to be held… or just have someone call me… say hello… watch tv with.

I don’t have anything on me to make this happen.

And why would anyone want to be my friend?

I’m weird.

I seem to be only good for sex (in the dating world,) and no one wants anything else.

I seem only good to keep kids preoccupied until they can go to their more important classes.

I seem sad.

Take your meds and shut up.

Take your meds and disappear.

My kids… I don’t think they really like me unless I give them what they want.

I don’t understand this world and my place in it.

All of this… I just want to be fucking held. I just want to be held… and I can’t trust just anyone to hold me. I had a person, but I had to end it because he wouldn’t stop yelling at me. So be alone or get yelled at… it’s quieter alone, but sometimes he would at least hold me.

I’m crying in the dark of my bedroom. No one cares. I’m writing this and I don’t think anyone reads this… and if they did, so what? Would they show up at my doorstep? And if they did, they’d just leave.

Or maybe they’d show up and take me away until I lied and said I didn’t want to kill myself… only because the hospital was charging SO MUCH and I needed to get back to work… and they were not doing anything to help me.

Fuck.

Fuck.

All I want is my person… but I can’t have a person until I don’t need a person. How fucked up is that???!!!!

Fucking nothing is real.

This system doesn’t work.

And… you can’t escape it. I should have just died in the jungle then… I could have just haunted the jungle and lived in the trees and fucking delighted in scaring tourist.

Fuck. I just want to be held is that too much to fucking ask???!!!! Apparently it is… unless you don’t mind being held by some kind of dollar general kind of human who doesn’t understand you because he is dumber than dirt… or some dude who thinks wanting to cuddle is code for hooking up.

Yeah. 49 days.

No one has held me for 49 days either.

I’m bugging.

I’m not good.

And it doesn’t matter. No one can save me. Maybe I’ll be lucky and die in my sleep tonight. Natural death is better than suicide… and I won’t do that… maybe I’ll take something to sleep.

I’m rather glad no one reads this… I mean, I wish someone did. I wish someone cared, but it would just be pity and that never helps anyone. Like this self pity… pathetic.

😞

Maybe I’ll wake up in a better mood… or I could die… or wake up feeling shitty. So.many.options.

9/11/23

[the-remarkable-mrs-smith]

So… I’m ending the day in peace.

I feel better. I took my day back. I did things… like wash my sheets and make my bed. Doesn’t sound like a big deal, but after my surgery, I was quite limited in what I could and couldn’t do… like lifting a big basket of laundry to the laundry mat.

And then walked 3.5 miles… shopped for groceries. Took out the recycling, cleaned the litter box.

Seriously, it’s hard to do the basics when you’re fighting depression. I haven’t admitted that I have been depressed, but I have.

I want to be done with that and start living.