The Beginning

The title of this blog is Starting Over At 30.
I am literally starting over in life. I choose to say 'starting over' rather than say how I really feel, which is beaten, taken advantage of and low low low. I am at the lowest point of my life in a decade that I always hoped would be great for me. I am lost, sad, confused and scared and without a plan. I am a planner. I'm a list maker. I'm the kind of girl who likes to cross things off my lists. Right now I have no lists. I have no plan. I have no hope. I don't see anything good on the horizon, but sometimes I get the feeling that things may be good some day. Usually right after that feeling the doom and devastation returns and I'm right back to where I was before.

What do I want? I want to take a Xanax or 2 and sleep it off. No, really what I want is to take the Xanax, make a Bloody Mary with an unreasonable amount of vodka, get in the bathtub, read People or US Weekly and forget that I'm still alive.

I read a lot of blogs. I've even been accused of having a blog in the past. I read a lot about how people use their blog to work through their feelings and use it as a sort of journal. God knows I have some feelings to work through. I'll give it a try. Ideally I'll write about all my misery and slowly start to write about my life coming back together.

I am painfully aware that the hardest part is just beginning. I do not know how to handle my grief. I don't know how to make it through this weekend without over medicating and drinking too much all alone by myself. I hope I'm all alone at least.

I've been with the same guy for 4 years. I've been faithful. I've been hopeful and I have believed in him when no one else would. Seriously, no one else would have. It's not because I'm stupid, it's because I was in love. Am in love. I don't know, but I know I will be out of love, if I'm not already, with him in due time. It's a long and complicated story, one that I'm sure I'll share on this blog journey.

Along with the guy, I'm struggling with my feelings about myself. I'm struggling with being 30. I'm struggling with my career. I gave it up to help him with his and it failed. I did have a nagging feeling that it would fail, but my feeling of support for him never wavered and I truly thought that even if I doubted the idea, I did not doubt him or his abilities. Now that his business venture failed, I have scrambled to get a job-any job-and am doing something I don't love for 85% less than what I made before.

I am bitter. I am angry at him. I can't pay my bills. I can't look on the bright side. I don't even know what that is anymore.

I can't forgive him for cheating on me 2 years ago. I believed him when he said he didn't sleep with or even kiss her. It was so so hard, but I believed him and began to move on. I stopped thinking about it every hour. As time went by there were whole entire days when I didn't think about it. I was healing. I don't think I ever would have forgotten, but I was healing and we were moving forward.

Last night I called her. That's right. I picked up the phone (after some master detective work to find her number) and called a bunch. She didn't answer. I didn't leave a message. Her vmail was full. I wouldn't have left a message anyway, but the vmail being full at least took that option away. At around 11pm she called me back. I told her I needed to know--did you sleep with him? She hesitated and then said yes. I knew in my heart he had betrayed me in that way. I gave him the fucking benefit of the doubt for years. I loved (love?) him. I guess I'm the type of person that will keep giving chance after chance until I know for certain that something happened. That's not a good thing.

Now I know. Now I'm leaving. To where, I don't know. When, I don't know that either. How, I can't answer. But I am finished. Sure, maybe it was 2 years ago. Maybe he has been the man I've 'always wanted him to be' (his words) the last while. That's not good enough for me. A secret is a lie. I really think that a relationship cannot grow while a lie is being lived by someone.

I thought I would spend my life with him. I knew I would always have his hand to hold. I trusted that he wanted the best for me.

So begins my story. 30 years in.