Tried

I've been thru it all. Fertility testing, steroids, vaginal probes. I carried a sperm cup in my bra to get tested. There is nothing wrong. Old stuff, eggs and sperm..but lots of them and healthy ones at that.
You think that would be a relief...but no. It isn't.
I looked back at my tracking app...at nd we just haven't had sex when I was fertile. I've told him...but nothing. Even this month; when I've been on the pills and steroids, no caffeine, doing all the things the dr asked and we aren't having sex. I'm in the family room crying and he is asleep.
Why?? I'm not the one that wants this. What is this sick game? When do I say enough? HOW do I say ENOUGH?!?!

Every day in may

What do you do when everything single thing you do is wrong?
When you feel happy...but then it's WRONG...how do process that and ever trust the happy?

Fertility and fatness.

I'm angry at my body for letting me down.
I dont know how to process it besides purging.

Breaking the girl

I wonder if he knows how often I wish I were dead.
I wonder if he knows that I know what he does, or if he even know that he is doing it.
When he withholds love. When he jdges. When he procrastinates. When he lies. When he breaks my heart.

We all run around waiting for him to give love, or take love.

And yet I apologize, and try, and break.

Most days, lately all the days, I can't feel. But to heyday I feel hurt. And the only thing thing that keeps me on this earth is the boy.

Slit.

I wish someone, anyone, would give me a break.
A hug. Something nice. Not pity.
Maybe love.
I've been fighting for so long, and I've failed at everything.

I cut myself tonight. Kitchen knife. Deep. Didn't even bleed.

That frightens me.

If you bleed to see if you are ok, and don't bleed, what does that mean?

Hurt

I don't understand why people feel better by hurting others.
My boyfriend posted on Facebook a story about how he threw a street preachers pamphlet in the gutter, and how the sadness that caused the man gave him enough joy to navigate the day.
A friend told me she didn't understand how her daughter has been so joyful when she had a birthday party and had isolated and ignored one of the girls invited. Yet she had done the same thing to me just a week prior to gain favor with another aquaintance.
This leaves me to wonder if I myself do this sort of thing to others. I hope not.

Bed of violets

There is something so broken, so twisted, so hurt deep down inside of me...
That I will never really love.
I will never really accept.
I will never be ok.

Even at 41, I purge.
I cut.
I am fat.
I am unloved by anyone except my children. Even that love will fade.

There is a man laying on bed next to me that wants to love me. He says he loves me. He says it. He doesn't practice it.
Or maybe he does. I don't know because I don't understand love.