forgiveness

9 years ago my father was living in his shop out in the woods and when I found him, he was barely breathing and appeared to be dying. I begged, pleaded and guilt3d then practically carried him to my car, put MY CHILDS oxygen on him and took him to the hospital. When he was well enough to leave, he insisted on going back to the shop. So I took him. By the end of the month I was dragging him back to the hospital again. Then I brought him to my home so I could make sure he ate and took his meds. 

It was like old times. Until I met my husband. When I met him my father turned into an angry bear spouting anger and filth. At one point he told my future husband that if he stayed with me, he'd lose his child, as I was about to lose custody of mine. Which I still cannot understand. I'm not a perfect mother, but I am not a bad one. And when I called him on this he screamed at me, telling me I should have left him to die. 

He has never forgiven me for saving his life. Or for moving on with my own. 

Today is his birthday. And I will not call him.

My sister is insisting that he lives in squalor and needs to be in assisted living.

I FULLY AGREE.

But the one thing I know is that I legally cannot force him into one. I cannot make him take care of himself. And my children and I are more important. I will never sacrifice my mental health and my happiness gor him again. Not ever

laughter

I laughed today.

I know that sounds so asinine, but its true. I LAUGHED and it was with pure joy and merriment. No derision or sarcasm. 

S and I were picking up a few things at the store and then i told him "last one to the car buys coffee" and took off running with the cart. 

He won, but then he didn't have the cart to push or pants weighed down by keys. But oh how I laughed all the way. 

I don't know how to explain how much I love my son. 

The pride I feel at being the one who created him, and then moulded him into the amazing person he is. 

Do you know I asked him to take the cart back at the first store and he grabbed another cart? One out of his way?

And at the second store, after soundly beating me in our race, took the cart back without being asked?

It may seem silly, but the tiny thoughtful behaviors are so very important to me. He is a kind and wonderful boy, and I hope he becomes a kind and wonderful man some day. 

caretaker

Always being the caretaker, never the one taken care of, is exhausting.

I have my own mental health issues and hang ups. 

I get sick. 

I feel broken and down. 

I deal with feelings of inadequacy.

I wonder if it's all worth it.

But when I finally break, no one is there to pick up the pieces. No one is there to comfort ME. Instead, I have a partner that seems to one up me in brokenness. 

Who will help me up from a minor fall, but when I shatter, instead of helping me pick up the pieces, he shatters himself. So that I have to pick up his pieces, and put him back together. 

But when any of his flaws is brought up, he acts like a wounded animal, lashing out. Saying if I "think he's so abusive" I should just leave.

I do not want to leave.

I do not think he does this on purpose. 

I think he needs help. Just not from me right now. Just like I need help. From a professional, who knows how to guide me through the darkness. 

Divorce

My husband offered me divorce today. See, up until this I have only written the bad days, the worst moments. But I still love my husband. And I miss being to woman he married. And I don't understand how he puts up with me, depressed and fight over flight anxious. I can't stand some of the things he does. But I love him. I don't want a divorce. 

What I want to to feel better. 

He said he doesn't feel loved. And said he wants communication. Then tried to start a fight.

You see, he overheard part of a therapy session. One where she asked me about taking an hour to myself each day and I explained why that wasn't possible. Apparently explaining that I can't take time in the morning because it irritates my husband when I get up without showering him with affection was offensive and made him sound abusive. 

I tried to explain that the therapy is to help me be a better wife. That by trying to leave now, when I have finally started getting the help I've been begging for for years is a bad idea.

He wants to feel loved, communication is how he wants that to go. Ok, I will work on that. 

I did point out that as I am accepting all the accusations of bad wifery, he needs to accept that I, too, do not feel loved. That I have been literally screaming for help for months and months and being ignored. 

It takes an hour but I finally coax him out of the basement and upstairs. I just wanted to try and make him feel loved. I rubbed his back until my own neck cramped and I couldn't anymore. And we snuggled. Me doing and touching all the things he wanted. Saying the things he wanted to hear. And then he tried to kiss me. And his breath was horrible. He hasn't brushed his teeth in 3 days. And I know he ate food that I'm allergic to yesterday. And I pointed out his bad breath, as politely as possible. 

He said "do you love me enough to kiss me anyway"

Like. Woah. What the actual fuck. 

When did love become "let me push your personal boundaries that are well established and if you don't comply you don't love me"

What happened to "I love you so I will respect your boundaries."?

He let it go. 

More time goes and he tired again. I kissed him close mouthed repeatedly and he tried open mouthed again. I could not do it. I have serious sensory issues and he knows it. Smell, taste, and texture are huge triggers for me. He KNEW trying to kiss me could make me actually vomit. But he did it anyways.

We lay there for a moment after he pulled away. Disgusted with me. And then he left.

I'm assuming he's off to sleep in the basement.

I want to feel bad and regret that. But I'm so mad at him right now. What he did crossed a line. Into what I would consider at the very least coercive behavior.

I felt very much like if I didn't kiss him, after not brushing his teeth for 3 days and after he ate food that could potentially make me sick if it's caught in his teeth, that I was saying that I don't love him. Never have. And he's better off with a divorce.

And another thing. He told me that I'm the only thing that makes living worth while. That if I leave he will be in a deep dark hole and never come out. Won't work. Won't eat. Nothing. But he doesn't show me he respects me. That he cares about pushing boundaries that make me feel gross. Not even just the kiss tonight. He pushes every boundary I have and respects none of them. 

therapy

I was told that daily Journaling, not just venting, are helpful. I've never had the time to do daily journals, but here is a thought provoking one today. 

"Do you startle easy"

This was a question that hit hard.

I have been trying to get mental health help for well over  a year now. First my primary doc brushed off my pleas for help. Then I found out the only therapy/counseling office didn't take my insurance. And then I finally gor poor enough for state insurance, which they take, and called to start the intake process. That was 4 months ago. 

It took a month to get the "intake" appointment.

Then another month for the orientation type one, where they start a care plan and diagnosis process.

Then another month to get an appointment with the medication staff for the needed medication. Only my brain is so bad at remembering that I missed the appointment by 5 mins and had to reschedule... for December. That would be 2 more months.

I lucked out and there was a cancelation and I talked to the holder of the prescriptions today and she ran through all the different things that might be wrong and their check lists. 

But this question was the one that caught me. Why? Because I do. I startle so hard that it almost causes a brief panic attack. And it drives my husband nuts while at the same time is mildly amusing to jump scare me. 

He can jump scare me even if I know he's coming. The kids can't. But he can. Honestly anyone but the kids can.

But I wasn't always like this. 

I used to be the solid one in the haunted house who might punch out the pour ghoul who tried to scared us while my girlfriends shrieked. But I became this way. 

I think back on the when of it, and it's when my son got sick, not the first hospital stay, or the second. It was the big one when doctors finally started listening when I was screaming to help him, that something is seriously wrong. 

And at the same time my ex's family were there trying to take photo and video to prove I was an unfit mother. That I was somehow causing this to happen. I started to be on high alert ALL THE TIME. Never trusting anyone, always waiting for the other shoe to drop. 

My entire last pregnancy I kept expecting to lose my baby because I was finally getting the girl I so desperately wanted.

I am still thinking over everything she asked me today and seeing something more than I did before. Perhaps I will try to wrap my head around each of them when they hit.

Everything is always about sex. Or I should say, my lack of sex drive. He makes feel like my value is decreased because of my low drive. Like I would be worth more to him if all I had to offer was a libido in overdrive. Why am I not enough? Why can he not see that I am worth rubies? If everything has only the value people place over it. What am I even worth?

different

Do you ever think about how different we are?

Not from each other. But from ourselves. The us of 5 or 10 years ago are completely different people. Me from 10 years ago would be in awe of who I am today. While I view her with scorn and shame. 

I don't necessarily view current me as great. But I can see the difference. And i think of me 10 years from now. And how much awe I would be in if I could see her now. And how far she will see she has come from current me. She may even view current me with some scorn or shame. 

I think we need to remember how different WE are when we talk to other people too. Because the people they are now may be nothing like what they were. And this could mean that the person we know now has pains we have never seen. Or it may mean the person we knew, if different now. And that we aren't seeing who they have BECOME. And when both parties are doing that, huge miscommunication can happen, and feelings be hurt without intention. 

value

We all wanted to be valued for who we are.

So do you value ME? The real me. The person I am when you get nothing from me. Or do you value the fact that I agreed to be your wife. Do you value ME or as the person you expect to cook for you. Clean for you. Provide sex for you. Emotional support for you. Care for your children. Etc.

If you value ME then you will care if I am happy. If I feel complete. You will encourage me to do what makes me feel complete. You will ask me how my day was. Not be mad I worked when you wanted me to stay home. Not expecting me to do everything to care for our family when I worked all day. You do not come home from work and make food for the kids and change diapers. You eat and relax. Why  I not entitled to the same thing every other week on the one day i get to work outside the house? Why am I not entitled to work that one day every week? I don't understand how I am supposed to feel valued and complete when it feels like my only worth to others is what I do for them or they get from me.

needs

I am a mother. And a wife. This means I have people I am responsible for caring for. And don't try the whole "your husband can help" shit. He doesn't really. I care for 90% of his needs, yes, grudgingly, and 90+% of the children's needs. Until recently I was taking care of his father's needs too. 

But no one takes care of MY needs. Not even me, most days. 

So when I am so worn down I finally admit to 2 needs I have that are unmet, and I finally make myself vulnerable to have them met, I end up being ghosted by my spouse. My "partner"

Who wants me to run everything past him, apparently. But who never listens when I tell him what I am planning to do. So when I do it, he's surprised and even upset. I really don't get it. 

But here I am. Alone. Needs unmet. Here is hoping I can fall asleep and my neck and back just relax on their own. That the tense muscles don't make my arms fall asleep so often I can't stay asleep. Again. But whatever. Who cares. 

"Talk Dirty To Me"

My husband has been going on and on and on about wanting me to talk dirty to him for years. I do not want to. It's not something I am comfortable with or like. I find it actively UNSEXY and even repulsive. Don't judge me. I don't judge you all for liking it. I just don't. Anything beyond variations of "I like that" "keeping doing that" "you're so attractive" and "i love you so much" is a serious turn off for me.

I don't know if it's the boyfriend at 19 who went full Porto and said "You like the cocktail, don't you" while we were making out. Or the first guy I ever had sex with secretly recording us during intimate moments. But I HATE dirty talk. I have tried. I open my mouth and my throat closes up and I feel sick to my stomach. I DO NOT WANT TO DO THIS. And I HAVE explained this to my husband. I have told him about my past negative experiences but he says HE NEEDS ME to do this. But see, I already know that this is just another boundary he is trying to push. To push until I get tired of holding my ground and I give in, no matter how much it makes me cry. No matter how much it hurts and makes me hate myself and him. He never takes no for an answer. If you say no, sure, he doesn't just do it anyway. But he will push and push and push until you finally give in just so he shuts up and let's you sleep. 

Yes. I am aware that this is borderline abusive behavior. But I meant it when I said til death do us part. 

So as I'm reading the cajoling words of some article about how to talk dirty to your partner. Words meant to make someone feel comfortable with doing it. I am crying. And coming here to write instead. Because I DO NOT want to do this. I DO NOT want to do most of what he wants, but I have to in order to keep peace. To keep my family together. And to not lose everything I have built. 

is it worth it

Tell me it's worth it. Tell me living is worth all the hell. The abusive relationships, the trashed house when you're not looking. The screaming. The fighting. All of it. Tell me death isn't the answer. Because right now it feels like the only way out

Selfish

Why are we expected to constantly give up on our needs and our own self care for others? Day after day after day. And we're not allowed to complain when daily things come up and prevent our self care. 

This keeps going and going and going to the point we lose ourselves, to the point we begin have emotional breakdowns. So we have to schedule that BIG self care moment. The time away from everything so we can finally have that break we need. 

Then, as we are holding on with our finger nails to sanity, just a day away from that break we need to rest, something big happens. Something bad. And if you voice how upset and disappointment you are about not getting to have the break you need for your sanity, you're selfish. You are so supremely selfish you are beyond redemption. So instead of voicing any of your own internal struggle you have to somehow muster more strength that you no longer have, to be strong for someone you love. Because they need you. Even though you have no more to give. Your cup isn't just empty, it's shattered, and you no longer get a chance to put it back together. Now, you have to calmly, kindly, give someone a sledgehammer to finish it off. 

I actually understand people who commit suicide now. It's not always that they are sad. Sometimes they have just given so much of themselves there is nothing left. No energy left to keep living. To keep giving. 

childhood

I always thought I had a happy childhood. I was a happy kid. I read a ton of books, ran free in the woods during the summer, and sister really ever have to clean my room.

We didn't have cable, phone, or internet. But, you don't need those things to have a happy childhood! We had an extensive VHS and eventually DVD collection we got from the movie stores clearing out stock. All my friends thought it was the coolest!

But we also didn't have much food in the house. Or much adult supervision after 12.

And then I arrived my husband and started hearing his childhood stories. He said he had an overall good childhood but remarked on the parts he would change. And then I really started to examine my own childhood with adult eyes.

My father told me to lie. A lot. Lie to the school. Lie to my friends. If I didn't lie then CPS would take me away and put me in foster care. I'd never see him again.

My father raised me very strictly that drugs and alcohol were bad, evil even. "Look at your sister!" He'd say. She was brought home drunk by the police so often I lost count. Kicking the door and windows when he'd refuse to let her in until she sobered up. But my father was a meth addict. A METH ADDICT.

Why didn't we have those extras? Or much food in the house? Because he was a FUCKING METH ADDICT and was so busy buying meth that he forgot I needed food too.

As a mom, I look back and start remembering nights I slept under my bed because my dad was convinced there were "night crawlers" outside our house with guns. He and his friends would wander our house with loaded guns to "protect" us kids. I said kids. There were 3 of us. 

My father gave me an unswerving work ethic. Bust your ass, keep your boss down. Don't attract attention. 

What I never realized is that he was able to work those long hard hours BECAUSE HE WAS TWEEKING! Those days he came home and slept for 2-3 days straight? Yeah. Not just "tired"

I will never hold my husband's and my hobbies against us. You know why? Our kids are warm, clean, fed, and cared for. We work hard for the funds that we have, but we provide essentials before we buy those hobby items.

While we were cleaning out the garage and reorganizing all the tools, hand me downs from his dad, mine, and what we have amassed together I finally cleaned out the roll away from my dad. It was filthy. Thankfully nothing illegal or anything like that. But the fine silt dust that covered everything made my skin crawl. I lived my entire childhood steeped in that dust. Never feeling clean. Is it any wonder that I bathed so often as a teen? That I have serious texture issues with things that make me feel dirty?

There is so much more. And the thought that pervades it all is this. Why did no one save me?

The only adult who didn't know what was happening was my mom. Because when he FINALLY let her see me he'd already groomed me to lie. To put on that pretty facade.

But EVERY ONE ELSE KNEW. Why didn't anyone call CPS? I wouldn't have gone to foster care, i know that now. I would have gone to my mother or one of my aunts, uncles, grandparents, etc who are good people. Why did no one save me?

second place

It's been 7 years and my husband still finds solice in movies where the wife who cheated on and divorced her husband eventually takes him back. 

I still feel like I'm the the chump prize. The after thought. If he really loves me more that he ever loved her, then why isn't he grateful life didn't work out as he originally planned? Why would he be willing to settle for "content" over happy? I don't get it. Why am I not even ought to make up for her leaving and running the plan he had for 1 marriage? 

discouraged

I'm having a hard time today. It's been really hard to keep my business going while I'm not getting sales. I see all these other people thriving with their China made items because they have great marketing. Because they have TIME to work on marketing since they're not MAKING anything they sell.

On top of that we were supposed to get away for the first time in 2 years. A weekend with no kids, no needy father in law constantly up our asses making demands. Just us, alone. He even got the cabin we stayed at when he proposed all those years ago! But the only people willing to watch this many kids AND that we actually trust to watch them have covid, so they had to cancel. So no weekend away. No break. No chance to BREATHE. I have been dragging myself along, promising myself we just had to make it to this weekend. Everything is fine, just keep moving, you get a break soon. And now I don't. I'm so tired. I'm tired of trying so hard all the time to barely move at all. I'm so tired of having to go and go and go with no respite. I just want to sleep and never wake up, because what's the point? 

Don't worry, everything's gonna be alright

Don't worry. Mama's here to hold you tight

Even when all I hear is a storm raging

only sound in my ears my voice howling

That storm inside

That pain and fear

And all I hear

Is my voice howling like the wind

My body is the globe 

The ice whips and slashes

My skin the only thing 

holding back the bitter of the wind

Don't you worry little one

That storm is mine alone

Mine to hold back 

Mine so you can have summer sun

Your gentle tears

From childhood hurts

Are like the soft spring rain

May you never know the storm I hold inside.

Don't hold your breath

I saw a meme on Facebook that said "someone out there is holding their breath waiting for you to fail. Make sure they suffocate. And at first I was shocked and appalled. But then I seriously started thinking about it. 

That person in my life has always felt like my sister. She's 5 years older than me and has always been that negative voice inside my head. The one that tells me I'm too fat, too short, too tall, too loud. Not good enough, not fast enough, not smart enough. She swears she's my cheerleader, but I feel more like she's a heckler. 

Lately I have been thinking about giving up on my business completely. 2019 was amazing,  but 2020 ground me to a haul and I feel like I'm starting all over AGAIN. And what's the point? 

But then I saw this meme. And I got to thinking about my breath holder. She has started and failed multiple businesses. While I have dragged along 1. She has lost tens of thousands plus in her businesses. While I have thousands of dollars of materials waiting to become inventory. Should I give up and let her say "See, she can't do it either." Or should I keep going and keep working towards success and let her turn blue?

journaling

My 13 year old had a fight with my husband yesterday. Over chores, of course. And the fact that said 13 year old will ditch out on said chore as soon as no adults are looking.

This whole episode left my 13 year old enraged. He knew my husband was right, but he was still mad. 

I suggested that he journal, since he says no one listens to him. Everyone wants to interrupt him and tell him how to feel or something. I suggested that if what he wants is to just vent, to just release negative feelings, then he should write them down in a journal. That's what I do. That's what this is. You won't ever see the good things here. You will never see the beauty and joy I find in my life, the point of this blog is to be that journal to release the negative feelings. To vent the pressure, if you will.

Perhaps if I had a therapist to listen instead I'd do that. But until I'm either rich enough to pay out of pocket, or poor enough to get state insurance, this blog is my therapy. 

When I'm angry, overwhelmed, sad, what have you, I pour it out and feel better for it. 

too much

I want to preface this with "I am not suicidal and don't actually want to die"

Have you ever just wanted it all to stop? 

There is just so much. Mountains of MUCH that I can't hold anymore. I feel like I'm carryinga teetering stack of MUCH and my balancing act, my drunken stumbling meant to keep it all up in the air is about to fail as I move inexorably towards a misstep. Be it banana peel or the top of the stairs. I can see in slow motion as the top sways too far, past the point of no return, and starts towards the floor to shatter.

And I can't do it anymore. I am exhausted. I work my ass off to have a successful business and feel like I'm a shitty mom and wife. I feel like I'm neglecting my duties as a mother, house keeper, and wife. And I just don't want to be awake anymore. I don't want to keep trudging ever onward. 

I can't even talk to people about it for fear they will either make it about them and how they have it worse, or call for "help" that rips the good parts of my life apart.

And let's face it. There is no help. What help I need I can't afford. And what help is going to be offered is "here. Let us just take those children you would die for off your hands because you're a piece of shit." 

Even if I got a "real job" it wouldn't help. Who would take care of my kids while I was there? The entire paycheck would be going towards day care. 

What help I NEED is a second pair of hands and more hours in the day. A person to actually help with things. To not be made out as a monster for needing that help.

Basically I need a clone of me. Or 3.

I need one to work on the business creating. One to apparently do nothing but content creation. One to be a mother. Hell. That's not even enough. I need one to be a housewife too. Then I'd still have to figure out how to do everything that's left in the day. I am drowning and there isn't anyone willing to toss me a lifeline. They'd rather all comment on how I deserve it. On how I never deserved to be happy. To have these children. This house. This life. 

I just want to find a dark place and stay there forever. Because all of this MUCH is too much for me. But even failure isn't enough. I would have to abandon everything and run away to get a break. Even letting that precarious mountain of MUCH crash and shatter around me wouldn't bring an end. It would just be another mess for me to clean up. 

sleep debt

Me: *sleeps 11 hours straight*

Me: *wakes feeling heavy and weak and still tired* gawd, I'm so tired 

Husband: I thought I was doing you a favor by letting you get real sleep! Is it not working?

Me: *wanting to explain that a single night of real sleep doesn't negate 6 nights of shitty sleep* you are

lists

Do you ever just want to run away? 

Just leave and never come back because the pressure in life is too much and you can feel it crushing you.

Did you ever have a to do list a mile long, only to have your "partner" add more and more and more, refusing to take any of the tasks on himself? Instead putting such an impossible load on tour shoulders, and expecting only their tasks to be important,  to hell with your own goals.

This is how I feel all the time. I do all the work. I make all the calls, schedule all the appointments. Have to remember and take kids to doctors, make sure to wake him for any contractors. I have to clear out and move everything so contractors can work. All while packing for a vacation, all by myself. 

Oh, here is a new one. A task I have asked to be performed a dozen times. To the point of hiring a professional to do it, so it gets done, so I have one less thing on my list. But NOOOOOOO, that's too much money, they won't do anything we aren't already doing... YES THEY WILL! THEY WILL ACTUALLY FUCKING DO IT

 

but don't you love me?

Awe, won't you just do it because you love me?

Don't you love me enough to respect my boundaries? To take into consideration that my body reacts in utter revulsion?

Why do I have to do something I find revolting because I love you, but you can't live without something you like because you love me? 

Aren't we supposed to compromise and show love to each other? Why do I always feel like I'm doing all the compromising? All the actual work. Why do I have to do things I don't want simply because you do? And never the other way around?