"Jealousy is all the fun you think they had."

~ Erica Jong

Just a word of warning. I may go from my usual snarky self and into bitchy Mo mode.

Lately, I've been a bit of a downer. My poor mother invited me over for dinner Memorial Day and I went on a half hour tirade about how much my life sucks before leaving again to sulk in the privacy of my own home.

Although, the thing of it is, it's not my own home. I'm renting. And I know, I know. I should save up for a house. But when my annual salary is less now than it was twelve years ago with no spousal/supplemental income, saving money isn't easy. Especially with no health insurance; I just spent $280 at the doctor's this month. Out of my own pocket.

And then there's the matter of my career, or lack thereof. I'm a "Mo of All Trades" as my mug says at the office, which translates to gopher girl, customer service representative, temporary legal assistant, and event planner when the occasion calls for it. I'm a contract worker who is responsible for her own taxes but doesn't qualify for health insurance as I'm not a permanent employee. I do, however, get paid for legal holidays and sick days whereas most contract workers do not but that's simply because I'm a salaried contractor, not an hourly. And I have yet to take an actual vacation day, let alone week, since I started here in 2010.

Yet I don't feel deserving of a vacation as my job doesn't generate the same amount of stress as the accountants and legal staff whom I work with have. In fact, my taking vacation time only causes more stress for those around me as they scramble to make up for my absence and I end up feeling guilty for taking time off. No one should feel guilty when they're on vacation, but because I know how inconvenient it is when I'm off sick, I couldn't stand to take a week off knowing how much trouble I'm causing everyone back at the office.

I can easily move past these things (well, maybe not the vacation time). After all, yard work and I are not exactly compatible, and as jacked up as my job can be sometimes, I don't actually mind it.

The thing of it is though, I feel completely unworthy lately. As if I've failed not only myself, but everyone around me.

How can my parents be proud to point me out and say, "That's MY daughter over there!"? I'm a divorced, thirty-something fat woman with nothing but an expanding waistline to show for my existence. I don't have a home, am unable to bear children, lived with my mother until 8 months ago, and have no career to speak of. While I am reasonably intelligent with a wicked sense of humor, I am not the looker or the athlete of the family, and because of I have very little self-worth, I sleep around with anyone who even remotely shows an interest in me because I feel unworthy of a relationship with a man which I desperately want.

I want to lose weight, but it seems insurmountable. I'm terrified that if I do lose weight, nothing in my life will change except my health (and don't get me wrong, that is most definitely a bonus) but that I will still feel just as unworthy as a thin person as I do as a fat person.

I'm jealous of everyone around me, even my own mother. Yes, my mom works a sucky job but she shared over 25 years of marriage with a man who still loves her and cares enough about her that he remarried her (for the third time) so she had financial and health insurance security. She owns a home. And she's blessed to be a mom. Something I will never, ever experience.

I'm jealous of my friends who go home to wonderful significant others every night. Women who support their careers, men who encourage them to spend time with the girls at book club, couples where one of them whisks the kids off up north for Memorial Day weekend, leaving the other with an entire weekend of alone time.

I'm jealous of my friends who are single. Each of them is kind and sweet and good looking and I know they will each find someone to share their life with when they decide the time is right to begin their search.

Don't even get me started about being a parent. When I was younger, I thought not being able to have kids was a blessing. I was the only girl at CMU not to worry about pregnancy scares. And then I grew up. And realized what not being able to have children truly meant. Not only did it make me less desirable as a spouse, but it meant I would NEVER have children. Yes, there are women with PCOS who have overcome the fertility odds of having children. But the degree to which my PCOS has developed, even when I was in my early 20s and only fifty pounds overweight (God do I miss those days), was such that my doctor told me when I was ready to plan a family that I would have to immediately begin infertility treatments.

Do you know how much that costs? Even WITH insurance, you're looking at about $300 a month just to start.

I feel lost, adrift, and woefully insignificant compared to so many. I've dropped out of my book club because I feel as if I have nothing of value to contribute. Except baked goods and wine maybe. I have taken to my apartment rather than spend time with people because I am embarrassed to be seen in public. I even feel embarrassed for my friends and family to be seen with me. Still worse is that when I do spend time with people, I feel as if it's a waste of their time because of how uninteresting I am.

And yet, I have hope. For what, I do not know. But a tiny little glowing ember still burns somewhere inside me. I need to work on fanning the little ember because I've been to this dark place before. And I don't like it.

 

Comments

[Denna]

You need to fin!d a good church... ...And I have two kids for sale if you want them. ...Just kidding about the kids part. But not about the church part. You can always come with us (or meet us there). We go to kensingtonchurch.o!rg. Love it there