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.