I have made and canceled countless doctor’s appointments, but today, I FUCKING MADE IT.

I can check a physical, pap smear (ick), STD testing, and thyroid testing off my never-ending to-do list.

I brought up my anxiety and all the shitty thing that go with it, like the constant jaw clenching (and subsequent pain) and horrendous sweating. Seriously, I have tried every damn clinical strength deodorant there is and I still constantly look like I ran a fucking marathon after doing exactly nothing. It’s fucking disgusting.

I got bloodwork done to check my thyroid just in case, but she diagnosed me with an anxiety disorder (duh) and prescribed me Fluoxetine – a generic version of Prozac, which should help with the depression, anxiety, and panic attacks all in one handy little pill. She started me on a low dose with a gradual increase to the full dose. I have a follow-up appointment with her in a month and she gave me a referral to a shrink for therapy. Now I just have to call and make a therapy appointment and actually go to it.

Furnishing my Apartment and Filling the Hole with Stuff

My apartment still isn’t finished like it should have been before I moved in. The painters kept rescheduling and no-showing and are supposedly coming this Monday to finish. (Except they said that last week, so we’ll see…) I asked the apartment management to refund some days from my rent because of it. They agreed to three but I asked for more since it’s been a shitshow for two full weeks now. I am still waiting to hear back from upper management, but I really hope they agree to refund more days. All of this should have been done before I moved in, not while I am living here.

I have been trying to fill the hole in my heart by buying a shitload of stuff. Except it is stuff I actually needed, like a couch, a bed, a vacuum, and a light, so I don’t feel too bad about spending money and it’s easy to justify. (Okay, the neck and back massager and the rug for the dining room were not really necessary, but I got a hella good deal on them and I don’t regret buying them at all.)

Surprisingly enough, the less than $200 mattress I bought has been absolutely fucking incredible. I have gotten some of the best night’s sleep on this thing than I ever have on any other mattress. Or maybe it’s because I am no longer living in a toxic environment. Either way, it’s SO comfortable. I wasn’t expecting a whole lot from a mattress for less than $200, but I am absolutely thrilled with this purchase. The pillowssheets, and mattress protector I got with it are also pretty damn incredible. I love the simplicity (and the price) of the Ikea bed I got to put it all on.

Since I needed a vacuum and I couldn’t find a decent one for under $200, I sprang for the Roomba that works with my Google Home. (Oh yeah, I traded STBXH my portable Bose speaker for the Google Home he got for Hanukkah. WIN!) I am pretty fucking pumped about this vacuum. It should be here this week, I think. I can’t wait to tell my home to vacuum itself while I’m sitting on my couch. I’m pretty sure I can set it up to vacuum on a predetermined schedule, too. Hello twenty-first century! (Still no flying cars though…)

I also bought a smart light. The bulb is here, but the lamp for it to go in won’t be here till Monday. I am so excited for this. It connects to my Google Home, too, so I’ll be able to tell my light to turn itself on and change the mood with different colors. Fuck yes!

It’s been really awesome being able to make all these decision about what to get and how to decorate my home on my own. Not having to make any compromises has been pretty fucking great.

I decided against getting a roommate. Although cutting my housing expenses in half would be pretty sweet, it’s not worth giving up my freedom. I am starting to really enjoy living alone. I did not expect that.


Move in day was total fucking chaos. Apparently, there was a miscommunication between management, and they still had my move-in day as the 28th despite multiple emails confirming the 20th, so my apartment wasn’t ready. They let me move in anyway and they’ve been in and out finishing up some things. They are mostly done now, but they’re coming back next Monday to finish painting.

I have been kind of numb until today. Right before work this morning a panic attack hit and I could barely pull it together in time. I had to remind myself each time a client asked how I was doing that they don’t really want to know, they’re just being polite.

I haven’t stopped crying since I got home from work.


Boxes are packed and stacked. Renters insurance is paid for. Electric and internet will be on tomorrow. Water is billed with rent, so nothing to set up there. I hope I’m not forgetting anything. Oh! I need to change my address with… everything. Post office, bank, license, registration, on and on and on.

Tomorrow is the day.

He’s been crying on and off. I’ve been cycling between feeling empowered and feeling like a giant fucking failure.

I keep hearing the egg donor’s voice in my head. “You are such a nag. No wonder he doesn’t love you. How could you let your marriage fall apart? You’re pathetic! Now what will you do with your life?”


Grocery Store Panic Attacks

Something about the grocery store gives me a panic attack every time.

Even though I go in prepared with a list, I can’t hold it together long enough to get everything on it. I usually end up literally running to the self-checkout stand with less than half the shit on my list. Then I sit in my car and cry like a fucking idiot who can’t buy groceries like a goddamn adult and drive off without everything I need.

Enter Instacart.

Holy. Fucking. Shit.

This is a lifesaver. I can sit at my desk (or on the fucking couch!) and sort by unit price to make sure I’m getting the best deal on what I want. In 1-2 hours, everything on my list is AT MY FUCKING DOOR.


Check out Instacart with this link and get $10 off and free delivery!



My dreams are always pretty weird.

The last two nights, they’ve been very vivid.

Two nights ago, I dreamt that I was back at the egg donor’s house with her piece of shit racist boyfriend. It was Christmas, but there was no sign of it anywhere. The egg donor asked, “What’s your fucking problem?”

I responded by saying, “I came to visit for Christmas. It would be nice if there was some acknowledgment of the holiday.” But before I could finish my sentence, she was talking over me, to her shithead boyfriend, about something completely unrelated. Pretty par for the course, actually.

Last night I dreamt that I was living on what was basically a commune with about ten other people. We were having a community meeting, and everyone voted for what was dubbed a “forced shared economy.” Everyone agreed that we would share all resources. All of them.

As the meeting was ending, I was pondering what this could mean. I grabbed the attention of one of the other members of the commune and tried to discuss the implications of it with them and get their perspective. I was afraid that it would mean anyone could decide what you were using or even wearing was theirs to use at any time they pleased. “Oh, I like that shirt, take it off and give it to me” someone could say, and because we agreed on a “forced shared economy” you had to give up the shirt off your back right then and there.

While I don’t think dreams are predictive at all, I do believe they are how our brain tries to process things, particularly emotions.

The first dream about the egg donor is pretty straightforward, I think. I know the egg donor doesn’t give a shit about me, and her talking over me and not acknowledging my feelings is basically the story of my life when she was in it. And the fact that I didn’t hear from her on Christmas. No surprise there.

The second dream is a bit of a mystery, but I think it’s my brain trying to process the decision I’ve been trying to make about getting a roommate. I purposely rented a 2 bedroom 2 bathroom apartment so that I have the option of getting a roommate. I can afford to not have a roommate, but I want to have the option just in case money gets tight or if I get too lonely. I’m just not sure if I want to share my home with someone else and have company and be able to pay down my debt faster, or take the time alone to heal and move forward with my life.

Speaking of dreams and sleep, I need to buy a mattress. Since this one has a shitload of awesome reviews on Amazon, I’m going to get this one. Fingers crossed it’s decent!


I’m getting out of the shower, wrapped in a towel, about to get dressed for work.

All of a sudden, he’s standing right in front of my closet, preventing me from getting dressed.

“Excuse me. Boundaries.”

“I’m getting ready!” he exclaims.

“You need to respect my boundaries. I don’t want you watching me get dressed.”


I didn’t retort that I had paid the entire rent here this month (he didn’t pay a dime) and am moving out halfway through anyway, so really it’s my fucking apartment and you’re welcome for paying the rent.

I didn’t bring to his attention that he was standing in front of my closet, not his, and he was already fucking dressed, so no, you aren’t getting ready you fucking manipulating sack of shit.

I didn’t remind him that he was supposed to have already left for work, and I planned my morning routine around him.

I didn’t scream like I wanted to, that even if this were “his apartment,” it wouldn’t give him the right to disrespect my boundary of not seeing me naked.

Derailing the conversation to get me arguing and ignoring the extreme boundary crossing is exactly what he wanted.

“Boundaries. You seeing me naked is a boundary. Please move so I can get dressed.”

He storms off yelling incoherencies.

11 more days.