"The Cool Kids Don't Want To Be Your Friends"

I'm depressed, and I have been wallowing in a pit of self pity now for several months. I put off and put off posts. I used to look forward to posting. As soon as I hit publish, I couldn't wait to write another post. I kept thinking that I could be a contender. I've tried to make friends with many bloggers, and almost every blogger that I've reached out to has been just lovely.

Then I went to Blogher 10. All by myself. And I was miserable. I approached many, many bloggers. Everybody was nice and friendly and polite and was willing to engage in conversation with me. But nobody said, "Hey, wanna join us?" They said goodbye and walked away. Every day I left to go back to my cousin's house, because I could not afford to stay on site, with tears running down my face, telling myself that the next day would be different.

But it wasn't.

I had a special group of friends on a list that I enjoyed. Every time I would mention that I had tried to socialize or be friends with a popular blogger, I was mocked mercilessly. Eventually, somebody posted private posts and I know exactly who did it. It wasn't me, it was somebody who posted under a pseudonym. For some reason she had a thing against me. It went on for years. I tried to ignore it. But she did it deliberately, and got me banned from the list.

Banned! I have never been banned before. I keep people's secrets. I would never betray anybody, for any amount of fame, prestige or money.

One of the last things I posted on this list was that I was thinking about attending the Mighty Summit. The ridicule was immediate, and sharp. One person wrote, "As your sort-of internet friend, I'm begging you not to go. Don't you understand? The cool kids group is closed. They don't want to be your friends."

I didn't go. It would have been an expensive trip, and I was so worried that she was right.

I've almost given up on being "somebody." I am sick and I need to spend 20 hours sleeping some days. Then there are the things that I have to do raising kids, trying to run a home. I don't know how to be somebody. I have stopped applying for different opportunities on the WWW. I used to write funny sometimes--I thought. As Joan Rivers once said, "Jokes get me a place at the table."

Someone else said that the way to success was to put in 6 hard years. I have. I am still nobody.

I'm depressed. I'm tired, I'm sick.

I lost the career I loved.

My mom is still dying in a nursing home. I just received notice that her fees will be increased by 7% next year. Right now, I'm hoping her nursing home insurance check will post in her account. It will run out in 2 years. After that, how will I pay the $7000 and more a month? Her pension and social security check do not begin to cover the bills charged by this home.

My 13 year old hardly speaks to me and my 11 year old will shortly not be speaking to me. Adolescence. But the lovely, cheerful, sparkling daughters I used to have are temporarily disappearing into sullen, distant teens. I know this is only to be expected and things will change. And I'm lucky that they are basically healthy and normal, bright, beautiful girls. But as I wearily pour my aching body into the car for another trip to pick one up from school or violin practice or this or that, it's hard to be greeted by a child who barely acknowledges that you exist, busily texting her friends, only stopping to criticize me for something.

Two of my oldest friends don't speak to me anymore. One told me that she had "moved on." The other one hasn't spoken to me since a fibro flare caused me to miss a party.

Roger didn't get the full time job he was hoping for, and he needs surgery on his wrist which will take place November 1.

I'm depressed. Every week I say to myself that it's one week closer to my death. I can't wait. I am in horrible pain most of the time. Life seems like a slow, bitter struggle towards the end mark. Yet, I am still vain. I don't want to get old. I just want to die.

But don't worry, I will never depart voluntarily. I am afraid that if I do, I will have to come back and do it over again.

One of my lifelong friends is suing a doctor that I recommended to her and I'm on the witness list.

I've tried everything to beat the fibromyalgia. Nothing has worked. I've spend thousands of dollars on alternative medicine, and nothing has worked so far. The only alternative medicine that is supposed to work is guaifenisen, but you're in pain while it's working. I need more pain? No. I don't want to take pills for 10 more years and still be in pain, and it seems that so many people are doing just that. I guess I need to get back on it, though, because eventually it is supposed to make you feel better. But we're talking years.

I am still waiting for my Social Security Disability hearing. My Long Term Disability will stop in March, 2012. I will still get state retirement disability. I'm constantly fending off letters from the agency representing me for Social Security Disability and letters from my Long Term Disability people. Are you better? Have things changed?

My old job? Almost everyone there has forgotten me. I am so depressed that I am unable to even muster up the cheerfulness or desire to try to see old friends or make new ones. I often have to cancel social engagements because I'm in another fibromyalgia flare.

Five years ago I couldn't zip up my jeans and made an appointment with my doctor for surgery to remove possible ovarian cancer. That surgery triggered the fibromyalgia that has ruined my entire life. Life was perfect 5 years ago. If I had only known, I would have passed up the surgery and either been healthy or died from ovarian cancer.

I just want to die. I want to go to sleep and wake up in a different world. I hate my life. Every single bit of it. I've tried for five years to get well, have a job, have friends, be a well known blogger. I've failed in every endeavor.

I want to die. Really, really, really want to die. Yet I have horrible feeling that I won't die, and eventually I will be all alone. My one and only prayer these days is that I die before my darling husband does. Our 19th anniversary is tomorrow. He is my rock. He is the most wonderful person. How blessed I am to have him.

All I hope for at this point is to somehow struggle through the rest of my life with as little pain as possible and see my girls become beautiful, happy, accomplished women. Then I want to leave this world. And never come back.

I'm hitting publish right now or I will lose my nerve. If you read this, thank you very much, and I am fine. I'm not going to kill myself. I'm going to go back to my bed and watch a funny movie. Maybe things will look brighter in the morning.