Gone Already.

I present a strong facade. I can handle this, I can cope but instead I turn off. I go through the motions of living, taking care of others, taking care of my duties as a wife, mother, pet owner and used to be a daughter. I am no longer a daughter for I no longer have parents.

In reality, I am broken and would like to be carried, just for a bit. Someone to hold me and make me feel safe and protected, even for a few moments. To matter, to be important enough to be put first.

I want to be a princess, to be special, to be loved and cared about just a small fraction of time.

I’m exhausted. I’ve got nothing left to give. I can’t carry the weight of this life anymore. I don’t even like me.

I don’t want to die and I do look forward to a new and better life.

But I do want to give up, I do want to stop living.

If I didn’t have my kids or my dogs, I’d be gone already.

1:45

It is 1:45 am.
He’s in the kitchen making all kinds of food.
“Would you like a couple pieces of bacon and a piece of toast?”
No…. it’s almost 2am.
” Ok ok…. geeze.”
A couple minutes later, comes into my room. “Would you like just Onnnneee Bite, because itsss sooooo gooood.”
No!
“its just ONE bite!”
Oh, ok. Cause that one bite won’t make me want more. Why do you just go offer someone a tiny taste of cocaine.
“SIGHHHHHHH”
Dick!

4:15 – My son and I are still up, just hanging out. Laying in my bed both of us on our tablets. I get up to make a piece of toast because I’m hungry…. out stumbles my husband,
“Oh you couldn’t take one bite of my food but you can eat now.”
It’s toast, leave me alone. I return to my room and shut the door.
This is exactly why we hide the things we hide because this jerk has to make an issue. It had briefly crossed my mind to give the toast to my son so I wouldn’t have to hear his comments and my son said he actually thought about taking the toast so we wouldn’t hear the comments but in the end we chose to not hide and we got the damn comments.

Lying to myself

I hate life. It is so hard to keep moving forward, waking up each day when there is so much suck in the world. A man posts a picture of his dog that was hit by a car and died. A friend talks about how her mom bought a gun because she saw a “kill muslim day” on facebook. My daughter struggles with her own self on her birthday. My sister had to put her dog to sleep. I image the day when I too will have to put one of my older dogs to sleep. I struggle to find positive things.  I wake up each day with a little bit of dread. I see a sweet dog face next to me and think I can do it, I can face another day but then as the day goes on I’m just exhausted from faking my way through life. Smiling when I  don’t have a reason to smile.

It’s just so absolutely draining. The bad times seem to last so long but the good times seem so quick and fleeting. I struggle to find good, I struggle to stay upbeat, I struggle to want to wake up each day, I struggle to not just want out of this horrible world filled with horrible things and horrible people. I’ve been fighting being sad for so long, trying to keep positive, trying to keep looking for the good and the happy but the bad just keep stomping me to the ground, crushing my soul.

I think to myself if I can just make it through this hour, this day, this week things will get better. If I make this change, things will get better. If I do this thing, things will get better. But there just is no better, I’ve just been fooling myself and telling my children lies. There is the quote that goes with the stopping suicide movement, stopping bullying movement, “it gets better.” It doesn’t, it’s a lie we tell ourselves and others so they won’t give up.

 

 

Tired.

I think the most common phrase that comes out of my mouth is .. I’m tired. I am tired, but more often than being sleepy type of tired… I’m tired of being me. I’m tired of being asked “how are you?” you don’t really care to know the truth. Who gives a fuck how I am anyway? I’m tired of lying and I’m tired of you pretending to care. You don’t care. Quit asking. I’m tired of worrying about everyone else, tired of caring about anyone else. I just want to take care of me.

I can completely understand why my mom checked out. Being the least important thing in the world is tiring. Sorry, you have to go to the Dr with me, no you’re  not. Sorry I don’t help out more. No, you’re not. Sorry, I didn’t do it on my own. No, you’re not. Sorry, you had to help with that… No, you’re not. If you were sorry or you felt bad you would make an effort to change. But it is comfortable to be lazy. Each and every one of you is comfortable being lazy.

My sister exercises and works out. I cheered her on, way to go with your bad self. She said, I don’t want to have a heart attack.

I thought, I do, I just hope it kills me.

Of course I couldn’t say that… that opens my life for discussion and honestly, I don’t want to talk about it.