I haven't really talked to anybody about my divorce. I've done a really good job at keeping it all bricked up behind some clever jokes and being too drunk a few times. I haven't even really felt it myself. I just brushed it off and ignored it. It felt too surreal anyway, being a twenty year old signing divorce papers when I didn't even really accept that I got married in the first place. It was a silly little kid thing I did without really thinking about it. I didn't even make sure I truly loved the person I jumped into it with. I just wanted to be married. I just wanted kids. I know, I'm dumb and childish. No one needs to tell me. In fact, please don't talk to me about it at all. I have moved on and I don't want to people to lecture me or pity me.
The reason I am talking about this now is because today he came to get his furniture. We have already signed the papers, we have already divided DVD's and video games, we already got new relationships that we are both extremely happy with. It was just the emptiness of each room and the loss of things I depended on like a bed that made me break down. Not because I missed him. I failed at marriage. I had dreamt my whole life of finding the perfect person to be with forever and having a beautiful wedding. I had dreamt of this and instead of waiting and being logical, I FUCKING GOT MARRIED TO THE WRONG PERSON. I rushed into it like if I didn't, I'd wither and die alone. I was an idiot and now I'll always be the girl that got married at 20, the divorcee. The person I finally decide to marry will be my 2nd husband. I feel tainted. I feel disgusting and stupid.
I hate myself.
I am a dumb kid. I'm stressed all the time. My hair falls out. I still pick my nose when I'm alone. I suck on my thumb and I cry way more than anyone I know. I lose weight, I take pills, I drink vodka to control the few things I have control over. I am a mess. I am not equipped for adult hood but I have been thrown into it and now I live or I die, it's up to me.
I will be okay.