Yesterday, I turned 45. I had the day off work. We didn’t get back from our road trip until 3AM that morning and Henry had to work, so I just read a book and watched the Olympics. It was just like any other day. I cried a lot. No cake was served to me. No celebrations. Just a lot of existential crisis’ing, crying, panicking, etc. It was a real fun time.

I am emotionally depleted from the weekend. There were some really fun moments so when I post the recaps, I am not lying or being fake to make it look like my life is so fucking shiny, but the reality is that I was in no state to be traveling, socializing, etc. I pushed myself too hard and thought that getting away would help me and maybe in the past it would have, but everything has been hitting differently this time and my usual fixes aren’t fixing. I cried every day and felt like shit a lot of the time. Haven’t worn my wedding ring since Saturday night.  Now I’m home and strongly, seriously considering quitting my job, packing some clothes, scooping up Penelope and running far away. There is nothing here for me and this past month / year has been a big indication of that. I have never felt more alone than I have lately and it is terrifying. Transparency and honesty are also terrifying.

But hey, how about those US gymnastic teams, huh?