It never fails...

Just when I think I'm picking myself up and am doing pretty well for myself, something comes along and reminds me just how much I'm not.

For a few moments I was proud of the progress I've been making and of actually truly believing it was happening.  I was even kind of cocky about it just an hour ago.  I was thinking that since this break up with the now ex-boyfriend, I really haven't thought about the loss of the ex-husband in a little while.  Whenever he's posted things lately, I haven't felt nearly as much pain and regret as I have been for years now (except when it's pictures of him holding babies, which is totally justified, right?).  That's definitely something!  And whenever I've thought of the ex-bf the past couple of days I've actually believed it was for the best and that I will find my prince charming eventually.  All good things and positive steps!  I was even going to brag here with a nice post about finally being over it all.

Until just a few minutes ago when a completely unrelated event occurred.  A simple happening really that shouldn't have affected me the way it did.  Except that it was with the roommate, who in her awesomeness makes me totally jealous of her life.  She came home from a ukelele jam session (yes, you read that right) downtown where she showed off her vocal and musical skills and showed me some video from it.  All I could think the entire time I was watching was how I wish I could have just a tenth of her confidence.  I even remarked how awesome it must feel to have her confidence and talent in every aspect of her life.  And with that I teared up and promptly said goodnight.

Literally, as I just typed that last sentence, she came in to get her laundry and told a story that kind of epitomizes her life in my eyes right now.  Monday she bailed on me and my sister's dinner for a taco party with her friends.  She texted the host asking if she could bring anything, and he replied condoms.  Duh, what else would you take?  She asked if he wanted any particular kind (colored, flavored), and he named off his choice.  So she got some condoms.  She had every intention of showing up, throwing the box down on the table and proclaiming "I'm here for the taco party!", but some other guy's ten year old son was there, and she didn't think it would be appropriate.  So she just showed the text conversation to the host's girlfriend and they had a chuckle.  She comes home with stories like this every freakin day.  

And the pathetic thing is that I'm totally jealous of her.  She lives her life.  She goes after what she wants.  She has the confidence to do anything in the world and she does it.  How do I get that?  How do I stop being scared of... everything?

Then again, as she was showing me the video and I was admiring her life, I actively thought how just as that is what she wants on a Thursday evening, I just want to curl up with a man I love.  We may be very similar in some ways, but we are very different in others, and I HAVE GOT TO STOP COMPARING MYSELF TO HER.  But that is so hard when she's returning every day with glorious stories of adventures with her many friends while I'm sitting home alone every night in a depression that I keep trying to talk myself out of and once again I'm terrified to walk out the front door.

I really hate myself sometimes.  AND I CAN'T GET MY FUCKING HAPPY PILLS YET.  THIS DELAY IS DRIVING ME CRAZY.  Maybe they'll come through tomorrow.

Such a mess I am.