Welcome to Rock Bottom

This is the blog of two girls in their 20's- who have hit rock bottom with love.

Meet Lucy- A 27 year old woman who is currently in the process of divorce.
Meet Jane- A 27 year old woman who is termianally single.

Lucy fears she will find love too quickly with another douche bag & end up married.

Jane fears she that men will only ever want her for sex and that she will never find love or get married.

Both ladies have agreed to help the other make changes to how they date & who (and why!).

This is how they got there-

Reality bitch-slaps Lucy:
Another night & he is screaming at me. I know he will not remember in the morning the hurtful words thrown at me. I know he will tomorrow pretend that everything is OK. He will promise to not drink. He will promise to treat me with respect (maybe tomorrow he get the counseling I have asked him to seek?). And then we will take one step forward. And then he will drag us 5 steps back. I wish I could bring him back to the man I loved. But at this point, do I even love him? Do I even love myself anymore? How do you love someone who stands over the bed every night telling me he hates me & telling me, again, all my faults, before passing out drunk. How did I even get to this point? Oh no...what is that noise? You have got to be kidding me. He is NOT peeing on my bedroom door. This is not happening. But it is. It is happening. Tomorrow I will have to start my day with paper towels and bleach. This is it-this is rock bottom.

Reality bitch-slaps Jane:
I have horrible luck with birthdays. I like single people holidays like Halloween or effing Patriot's day. Birthdays require friends and relationships not to be total disaster-and lately I find myself painfully lacking in both departments. For some reason 27 is hitting me hard. I know it's ridiculous, but I have been going around all week telling people that this year I'm turning old. It's a weekday, so I suffer through work. Most people forget. I do not get a cake. By five-fifteen I have heard from my entire circle (of three)-save one-the obligatory bum I have come to love this season. I've dated some serious circus freaks in the past-but I always thought that some things would always be deal-breakers...you know like: "he's married", or: "he thinks Coldplay is the best band EVER". Not the case. My boyfriend has a wife (and a serious Coldplay fetish)...and by 7:30-it has become clear that he has also forgotten my birthday. Visions of Molly Ringwald self-righteously informing her friend in Sixteen Candles that she wasn't expecting a breakfast birthday party float threw my head. But its true. I wasn't expecting anything but a Happy Birthday. I hit the lowest possible level in my response to this-the passive aggressive text message. "Are you trying to tell me something right now?" I type. As I hit send, my soul throws up a little. He calls me. I tell him what day it is. "Oh. Well happy birthday", he says. Understand that his tone is saying "Oh, well whatever". Something in me snaps, and I tell him to bite me. He then sets a land speed record getting the eff of the phone. I panic-what if he breaks up with me? I call him back and spew an apology. I had a bad day, I'm really not upset-it's not a big deal. When I hang up-I scrounge though my apartment, and discover the universe is so cruel that the only alcohol I have in the house is an ancient bottle of Triple Sec. I mix it with Seven Up. There is no ice. As I choke down my first sip-and then pound the rest, I look around. I'm twenty-seven years old and I have a shitty apartment, no friends, a dead end job, a mountain of debt, and I just apologized to my MARRIED boyfriend for being upset that he forgot my birthday. I just turned old, and I have nothing. This is rock bottom.