[Warning: This is dark. Really dark. And really bitchy. And maybe even scary. And just generally bad. My deepest apologies in advance.]
Sometimes it’s better not to talk about it. And by ‘it‘ I mean everything in my life. Everything. Every fucking thing. Literally. Everything.
But today, I talked about it. I was in the midst of a (relatively) small problem when Mom called earlier today. And I just lost it. My poor mom.
I’m not doing well. Emotionally. Physically. Financially. And every other way you can think of. Everything has gone to hell. Well, it’s been hell… and it still is. So… that’s me.
My kids ask for things I cannot give them. Not extravagant things… not really. Things all their friends have. I know, I know… it’s not about things. But when you’re 10 or 13, it kind of is. And I feel awful for them. So… that’s my kids.
My husband is a giant pain in the ass. I know I sound mean about him… and he deserves that to some extent. But on the other hand, he really is busy, tired, and stressed out. That’s my fault since the stress is financial and I can’t find a workable job. But still. His priorities are a little fucked up sometimes. So… that’s my husband.
I’m so fucking sick of my life. When the fuck is something going to go right for me? For us? None of this is an exaggeration. Nothing goes right for me and my family. Not a fucking thing. I told you I was jinxed. [And in most ways, this is kind of the same post as that one.]
Mom heard it all from me today. And I felt bad… because of course she wants to help but she knows there’s nothing she can do. She feels helpless… and that’s not wrong. There is no help for me. Trust me… I’ve thought of everything and tried so many things… but nothing. Nothing changes.
AND about 2 minutes after I got off the call with Mom, my daughter’s school called because some asshole kid pushed her into a muddy puddle during recess. She was all wet and very upset. I had to bring her some dry clothes. When I got there, it was an hour and a half before the end of school. They said it was up to me if I wanted to just take her home so I did.
Did you know that most days, after I bring the kids to school, I want desperately to go back to sleep so I don’t have to face the day? I want to skip 8:45 to 2:00. Every day. Then I pick up the kids and at least I feel like I have a reason to exist.
Find something good? There is nothing.
My kids? Not going well. My health? Back pain. [And my head? Fucked up… due to circumstances… no med can fix those.] My marriage? Frustrating. Extended family? Just makes me feel like more of a loser.
I think my A to Z thing is going well. There. Something good. Woo fucking hoo.
I need to be around other people more but I don’t want to be. Maybe this is awful, but it’s hard for me to be around people because their lives are better than mine. So basically, being with anyone makes me feel like shit. And being alone makes me feel like shit. I never get a break from feeling like shit.
Yes… I fucking know there are people who have it worse. You know what? Just because someone has it worse doesn’t better my situation. It doesn’t do shit.
Every single day I question whether or not I can go on. I wonder how I’m going to make it. Sometimes, I don’t even care anymore.
But I have to stick around for my kids. But I wonder if I’m even good for them. I’m a fucking disaster of a human being.
You don’t have to say anything. I know there really is nothing anyone can say. I’m just so fucking frustrated with every single thing in my life. And I see absolutely no way to make any of it better.
And I don’t want to put a god damn smile on my face and pretend everything’s great. Because it’s not. It fucking sucks.
[You’re going to ask me if I’m okay. I’m not. Maybe later tonight I won’t feel quite this bad. Maybe tomorrow it won’t seem as bleak. But these feelings keep coming back so I don’t know how to just dismiss them as a ‘mood’. They’re never gone. I honestly don’t know how to go on like this… yet I can’t fix any of it either. Where the fuck does that leave me?]
[And finally… I may remove this post. Yes, again I’m saying this. I’m ashamed and embarrassed. I feel the need to reach out… to get this out… but I also know that there’s no point… and I’m only humiliating myself further.]