Going Solo

When I'm on my A-game, I am really good. I can make myself really appear attractive, smart, and funny. I can keep people on the edge of their seats with my wit and charm. It seems like I know all the right things to say and the right times to say them.

I'm very rarely on my A-game. In general, I have a tendency to be very socially awkward. I think of lots of things to say that sound really intelligent right up until the moment after I say them. Sometimes this makes me think I have to backtrack or apologize, which often only succeeds in making me feel like an even bigger idiot. Sometimes I wish I could just erase conversations from existence, because I'll randomly remember them months later and feel like an idiot all over again.

This is one of many reasons that I am becoming a hermit. I will soon have no one but my cat and my nook to keep me company.

Lost

I've been doing it again. Even though I've allowed myself to write some of my feelings, I've been holding myself back from continuing to do so for fear of being too open and too negative. The conclusion I want to come to (but don't know if I ever will) is that I can be whatever works best for me, regardless of the opinions of others. I'm hurting. I have a right to be negative. Maybe there will be some time in the future when I've gotten out all the negativity, but now is apparently not the time.

I've always tried so hard to do what I'm supposed to, to be "good," to do what's "right." I also messed up a lot. I've never been the perfect Mormon, but I've never been the worst, either. I'm not proud of that standing. I do always try to make myself better, but I've always tried to make too many different people happy. Even though I constantly fought with my mom, I always tried to make her proud. Even though my oldest sister and I never get along, I used to make sporadic efforts to connect with her. My past boyfriends, whether Mormon or not, have not exactly been the best spiritual influences on me. Some of them, however, still managed to convince me that they were more righteous than I so I should take them at their word when their preaching seemed a bit off. I have always struggled to satisfy all these people while trying to have a good relationship with Heavenly Father and finding some degree of individuality and self-worth.

Very clear from my current situation, I have never succeeded in having any amount of self-esteem. If I had, then I wouldn't have allowed myself to marry someone who treated me the way my husband did. I finally see that the first person I need to satisfy, aside from Heavenly Father, is myself. I see it, but I don't know if I have the strength to believe and apply it. I honestly don't know who I am, what I like, or what I want out of life. Worst of all, I don't even know how to figure those things out.

Movin' on Up

Well, I did it. I finished college. It took me quite a bit longer than I planned, but it's finally over. For a while, my excitement about this achievement was taken away because of the whole divorce thing. My husband and his family were all excited for me because none of them have bachelor's degrees. It was kind of nice, because my family is more like, "Whatever. That's what you're supposed to do."My in-laws were planning on throwing me a party and giving me some pretty cool gifts. I don't really like their parties or really know any of the people they invite, but I would've gotten stuff and that's always cool.

Despite their excitement for me, however, I think I'm more glad to be rid of them than I am disappointed about the absence of parties and gifts. I'm proud of my achievement, and that's all that really matters. That, and the fact that I don't need to stay up till four in the morning writing an analysis of Frankenstein using sources from literary journals ever again.

Along with a few other happy occurrences, finishing school has really helped me to feel better about myself and more positive about my situation. While I always knew that I would eventually get over this extremely large bump in the road, it really helps to have some good stuff happen to give me a boost.

Jessica's "Daily Affirmation"

Oh Jessica, I want to be you when I grow up.

Homeless

So, as superficially horrible as I feel about this, one of the things I miss most about my married life is my house and furniture. I spent most of the nights of my adolescent years sleeping on either a couch or the floor of the two-bedroom apartment in which my family of seven lived. I had always looked forward to the distant time when I would live in a real house with nice furniture.

At the same time, living without the things that all my friends had taught me to be careful with my money. When I was living on my own, with roommates, I did fairly well for myself. I managed my finances without too much trouble, and it seemed like things would work out eventually.

The circumstances in which my husband and I got our house were unusual, and I didn't feel comfortable about it. For a while, I was stupid enough to voice my opinion as if it actually mattered, but I slowly learned my lesson. My husband expected that I would be ecstatic about having things I had never had, no matter what the circumstances, and didn't like that I had other thoughts. I suppose he had good intentions.

Well, I learned to really like that house. I loved the furniture. But, just as this started to be the case, I became aware of the need to end my marriage, and the unusual circumstances meant that I had to walk away from all of it. I may or may not get some of the furniture in the divorce settlement. I'm not sure if I want it, because I have a tendency to attach memories to physical objects.

Now my mom is living in a better situation than she was in my younger days, and she's allowing me to live in her house. I have my own bed, but it's not like the bed I chose for my house. This is one of many reasons that, the next time I marry, it will be for money.

Inner Fat

My little sister and I like to watch Biggest Loser, and that's exactly what we did tonight. It's a really good show. Lots of fat people figure things out and lose a bunch of weight. It often gets emotional, and sometimes the contestants are pretty good looking at the end.

Watching the show tonight, and thinking about things, reminded me of how jealous I sometimes am of obese people. Being fat isn't a good thing, I get that. The reason I'm jealous is very similar to the reason that I used to wish I was injured. I wouldn't want to inflict anything on myself, I just kinda wanted something to happen. I wanted to hurt on the outside, so that people wouldn't be so ignorant about how much I hurt on the inside. Sometimes I find myself wishing I were obese so that I could go on Biggest Loser and have one of the famous heart-to-hearts that people have with Jillian when they look inside themselves and realize why they let themselves get that way.

I've suffered from depression for quite some time, with varying levels of intensity. When I get really depressed, I don't turn to food. I don't turn to drugs or alcohol or sex. My biggest weapon against myself: self-deprecation. I wouldn't exactly say that I hate myself, but there are a lot of things about myself that I hate. That's not really true, either. I really have come a long way since I was first diagnosed with depression, but I had some serious relapses while I was married. I was so miserable, so lost, and had so little control over anything that happened to me that I could literally feel my mind slipping away. I couldn't concentrate, couldn't think clearly, didn't really even have much control over my thoughts. I've never come closer to wanting to make the ultimate irreversible mistake, and I don't plan on ever getting that close again.

I'm much happier with myself and with my situation now that I have control over my life again and have hope for the future, but I still get jealous of fat people sometimes.

Title Role

Since I started this blog, a whole two days ago, I've told a couple of people about it that aren't online very often and probably wouldn't have known about it otherwise. I explained that it seems like a good way to try to get my feelings out. While they mostly give one word responses intermittently in order to assure me that they're still paying attention as I ramble on, and they make a noble effort to mask the "this is a stupid idea" tone in their voice, I always get an interesting response when I reveal what I've decided to title my blog. I guess I didn't quite realize the effect it would have on others, but I have no intention of changing it.

The fact is, I do feel like I'm a taboo. Mormon and divorced? And so young? I'm an embarrassment! Okay, maybe I shouldn't go that far. But sometimes it feels like the truth. I do need to clear something up, though. The rest of the title says that I'm a divorced Mormon woman. This blog is NOT anti-Mormon. I will readily admit that my situation has caused me to really struggle with my faith, but I still align myself with the LDS church and don't plan on doing otherwise any time soon. This just adds to the ways in which I'm an enigma, I guess. Mormons don't understand how I can be divorced, and non-Mormons don't seem to understand how I can still believe in the church after what has happened.

The truth is that there is an exception to every rule. I've always tried to stand out, to be that exception. It seems that there are a few ways in which I don't really have to try. I'm just odd. Unfortunately, being an individual has its consequences. Unique people just don't fit in.

Side Effects

What makes my situation especially hard is that I don't feel like I really have anyone to talk to. I don't really have any friends who are married. Even if I did, I wouldn't want to talk to them too often. I get depressed enough talking to my married sister. Maybe that's dumb, but whatever. I also lost just about all my single Mormon friends when I got married to a guy that half of them didn't like and the other half thought I didn't deserve. I'm not really supposed to talk to single guys too much these days, because I'm still technically married and there's a risk of impropriety. I've also always suffered from what must be a medical condition that makes it close to impossible for me to make friends with females. Once in a while I seem to harness the attention from someone in one of the above categories when I really need someone to listen, but then I'm always worried that they won't talk to me again because I'm too depressing. There is actually one girl who recently reached out and let me know that she is also either divorced or getting divorced (it wasn't really clear). I really do want to be friends with her, but I'm afraid to call her or anything because of my condition.

To make things more interesting, today was stake conference. This means that I got to see lots of people from the singles ward that I used to attend. While I said hello to a select few, seeing was about all the interaction I had. Most of the people who saw me back looked at me like I had the plague for what was definitely not the first time. I'm usually very paranoid about this type of thing, so it's possible that it was all in my head. I don't know, though. Some of them looked like they were trying not to look at me, but couldn't help it. You know, like when you see a car accident or a really ugly person. I don't know if people just don't know what to make of me because I'm Mormon and divorced or if they think it's my fault that I'm getting divorced or what. All I know is that I probably won't be going back to that ward, even after my divorce is finalized.

Another Try

There are a few people who have read my blogs in the past. I've attempted this blogging endeavor a handful of times, only to abandon it within a few weeks. This isn't because I don't have anything to write, or because I'm discouraged because no one is reading it (though I know that only a select few do). No, it's because I feel some sort of obligation to make anything I write uplifting, inspirational, or at least have a reasonably happy ending.

It's difficult for me to meet these requirements for a couple of reasons. First off, I'll soon be receiving my degree in English. English majors don't like happy. It's not believable. It doesn't evoke enough emotion in the reader. I don't even know all the reasons, I just know that we don't like it. The other reason I have trouble writing flowery entries is because sometimes I just don't have anything good to say. Sometimes I just want to complain. I'll sit down to write an entry, and I try to twist how I am feeling into something positive. Then I decide I can't do it and eat some ice cream.

So, as I endure the absolute most difficult trial I may ever face (divorce), I'm trying something new. I've been trying to rediscover myself, and I'm going to use this blog to do it. I'm going to write what I feel, even if it's whiny and immature. I'm also sure that there will be very positive entries, but that's not my goal. I understand that many people believe that matters such as these should be left to one's personal journal, but I find something therapeutic about sending out my feelings to the world (even if I know no one will actually read them). I hope that anyone who does decide to take the time to read this will get something out of it, even it's just that they learn never to do the stupid things I've done.

As I said, I will soon be receiving my degree. This is my graduation gift to myself. I'm allowing myself to let my feelings out and let go of the obligation to be uplifting.