Just want it to be over

I’m 27.  On the outside I appear to be a relatively well-adjusted, responsible, single Midwestern gal.  On the inside, I’m screaming.  Waiting for my life to end.  I’ve been depressed/suicidal off and on since I was 15.  One relatively severe cycle almost got me kicked out of college.  I had to go to therapy, which was no help at all.  I quickly grew bored of it and to expedite my exit from that requirement, I told the therapist what she wanted to hear.  Fast forward a few years, I had broken things off with my first really serious boyfriend and rebounded to a guy a couple years older who had no ambition whatsoever.  He still lived with his folks, worked part-time in the bakery in one of the local grocery stores.  I hated being with him.  I knew I deserved better, but for some reason, this seemed to be the best I could do.

I took a trip to Florida that spring (at that point, he’d quit his job and moved in with me) and returned to an apartment literally overflowing with trash.  We had a verbal argument, but made up quickly enough.  About six weeks later, a positive pregnancy test.  I went to the doctor, sure enough… I was pregnant.  Seven weeks, making my due date early March.  I had just started a part-time job to make ends meet – remember, he wasn’t working at all… rather, playing DnD at all hours of the night and sleeping all day – and being pregnant surely explained why the smells at my part-time job were making me so nauseous.  About two weeks after my doctors visit, I felt really nauseous.  I’d been having fairly regular morning sickness; nothing really severe.  It was a Friday.  I couldn’t keep anything down.  Then the cramping started.  I tried to get my boyfriend to take me to the doctor, but he said he was too tired.  That I should just go, and if anything was wrong, he’d come up to the doctor’s office.  When I got to the doctor, they ushered me back into the room where they confirmed that I was having a miscarriage.  I felt numb — we hadn’t told anyone about the baby yet, as both sets of parents would have absolutely flipped out.  They asked if there was anyone I wanted to call.  I just weakly shook my head and signed the forms they put in front of me.  The rest of the afternoon was a blur, but the one thing I do remember is the look in the doctor’s/nurses’ eyes.  Pity.  They knew I shouldn’t have had to face that afternoon alone, and yet I was.  I drove myself home and fell asleep on the couch, crying.  That night I heard him on the computer so I got up to try to get something to eat.  He asked me how the doctors visit went, I told him.  Relief washed over his face as I told him that there was no baby anymore.  I was in such an emotional state that I burst into tears and couldn’t stop.  He tried to console me by saying that it was better this way, we weren’t ready to be parents, etc.  I felt like a part of me died.  Three weeks later, we got a note from apartment management that my boyfriend would have to apply to be on the lease (at a cost of $35) or move out.  He chose to move back in with his parents.  At that point, I knew exactly where I stood with him.

A couple months later, I met a couple at a mutual friend’s party.  The guy and I hit it off right away, which isn’t unusual – I get along with men much better than women.  As they were leaving the party they announced they were about three months pregnant.  We started hanging out more and more, both the guy and me, and the three of us.  Their baby was born the next spring… and it dawned on me that they probably conceived her right around when I lost my baby, who I had always imagined to be a girl.  I felt a strange closeness to this child and watched her grow from a helpless infant to a rambunctious little three year old.  Now they have two other daughters, one older, one younger.  I’m even godmother to the youngest; she has my middle name.

Having close friends like this would be great if it wasn’t for how much I have fallen for him in the last three and a half years.  I don’t know if it’s mutual; I’ve never been that good at reading guys.  But I do know that I am seriously in love with him.  I’ve never felt this way about anyone.  He’s smart, funny, somewhat musically inclined… I dream about him every night and daydream about him at work constantly.  I can’t tell him – what if he completely rejects me?  I’m not sure I could handle that.  And what if he says he feels the same way?  Then I’ll be responsible for ending a marriage and breaking up a family, and I’m not sure I can handle that either.

Three years of unrequited love takes its toll on a person.  Last winter, I posted on Facebook a simple message apologizing for hurt I had caused anyone and saying what I hoped would be my final goodbye.  I shut my phone off, swallowed a handful of pills, had a beer, and drove my car to somewhere I wouldn’t be found.  A couple hours later, somewhere in my drugged haze, I turned my phone on so it would be easier for whoever to find me when it was all said and done.  Among all the texts I had one from him, saying he was with the police at my house, asked to let him know I was OK.  I texted back that that was a stupid question, I’m obviously not OK.  After he convinced me to come home and talk to the police, he kept texting me until I passed out on my couch.  He kept texting me throughout the whole weekend.  He came over that Monday after work, I went to their place for dinner on Tuesday, he texted and said it was good to see me.

Lately though, I’ve been isolating myself more and more.  Normally, I would go to their place after work every day and on the weekends.  Last week, I was only able to muster 3 days… so far this week none.  I don’t want them seeing what misery I’m in or bringing their fun down.  I just can’t handle seeing their happy family and knowing that I’ll never have something like that.  And to those well-meaning friends that keep saying ‘don’t settle’ or ‘it’ll happen when the time is right’ or ‘be patient’ or whatever… Keep your patronizing platitudes to yourself.  I’ve been trying to date.  I have.  Ads on Craiglist, different dating sites… and either I get married dudes trying to cheat on their wives (hello — that’s what I’m trying to avoid here!) or complete losers that still live with their mommies.  Don’t laugh; I had a date a couple months ago where the guy told me he still lives with his ‘mommy’.  I’m pretty sure I missed the bus on snagging a guy that his act together.

To sum it up, I’ve felt really crappy for a long time and present situations aren’t helping.  So I’ve decided that very soon I will end my life and end my misery.  I’ve hinted to a few friends what I am wanting to do, nobody seems to care.   My work is suffering, my apartment is a disaster area and I can’t muster the energy to clean it.  Basically I get up, show up to work late, get a minimum of work done in the eight hours I’m here, get some fast food on the way home, pop some sleeping pills and wait for the numbness to creep up from my fingers and toes until it completely envelops me.  The 10-11 hours per night I’m sleeping are the only respite from reality I get.  Someday soon, I’ll take a few extra, have a drink, and not wake up.  I can’t wait to feel sleep overtake me for the last time.  Then I will truly be free.