When the dark purple falls. . .

124.5
20mg Lexapro (up from 10mg)
Shrimp Scamp
2 grown half and halfs (sweet tea vodka/lemonade)

My weight had gone up to 128.5. I was excited until I weighed myself again and it was gone. Must have been the monthly bloat.

Now that I'm coming out of my anxiety ridden/depressive fog, I realize that I am super behind at work and have no real prospects for a job next year. There are major cut backs at work and I don't think my performance as sped guru has warranted staying here in that capapcity. Moreover, I promised myself to find a job which highlights my strengths. I have a few leads but nothing solid, which makes me uneasy.

My divorce court date is May 12th. After that, I will be an official free woman. Mixed emotions... Now that it is finally here it has made me nostalgic about my past, and makes me realize this isn't at all how I pictured my life to turn out. 36, 2 children, no property, pushing a 96 Lincoln. But I am at least hopeful that what I do have, I can maintain BY MYSELF. I am anxious about his behavior at court. I hope he doesn't cry or anything . . .

I am dating again. I tried to relegate the dude to just the physical but he persists. I realize that I am afraid to let it be anymore than that because I am trying to avoid rejection. For someone as confident as I am, I am discovering parts of me that are still so insecure and damaged from my marriage, my past relationships, and general kicks in the shins that life sometimes hands out.

Last night I was feeling pretty low. Job mainly, but also some memories I had been trying to fight back. I reached for my phone to text someone. (That's my M.O. reaching out so I don't have to spend time with sadness). But I decided not to. "No one is thinking of me," I thought. "I'm not going to bother anybody." I put the phone down, turned on my side, and began to cry. Just a little. "No one is thinking of me," more tears came down. The phone buzzed. A text.

"Whats on your mind"
"Alot"
"I could tell by fb status, tweets. . ."
"thats what I do. Hesitant to talk but will put out a fb status or tweet in a minute"
"We'll talk soon"
"Thank you for thinking of me"
"Always do . . ."

I still cried last night. But I felt better to be thought of. But the thought I will begin to depend on such communciation scares me. The prospects of learning to open myself up to someone else again scares me even more. I know it is necessary to move on and even if he's not the one to open up to, I have to be brave. Be brave enough to heal . . .

Be brave little girl . . .