“So how are you really?” asks my friend, Jeannie, as she leans in towards me at the restaurant.

That is such a difficult question to answer. Aside from feeling occasionally schizophrenic, specifically, several times a day, I mostly feel numb. Robotic. Numb and robotic in my pajamas. Lost 5# last week. Yay for me. Take that, other woman.

He’s sorry, but…so what? He says he loves and wants me. Big deal. It took me a week to come out of the fog I was in to tell him off. He is being very contrite and humble, but…is it for real? Hard for those things to mean a lot when you are grappling with a year of lying. I don’t care that there were only 2 encounters. Deception, lying, dishonesty, whatever…just nauseates me.

I am somewhere between “O!” and “kay.” Where I am on that scale depends on any number of things.

You know your friend is a true friend when she says, “Let’s go beat her up? Wanna?”

I asked Jeannie if she wanted to be the one to sit on the other woman or the one to shave her hair off of her head. To the scalp. Just one, big giant chunk is all I am asking for.