My tongue is in my hand…

Let’s be honest

Posted on: December 16, 2009

I’m in this place again where I keep thinking “I don’t think I can do this anymore”, but I’m not quite sure what “this” is. Is it everything? Is it work? Is it home? Is it life?

Work is work. It changes. Some things I’m good at, some things I struggle with…but it’s do able. It’s not work that I can’t do anymore. Work suffers sometimes, while I try to manage my life, but work is work. It’s good work. It’s work I’m glad to be doing. So it’s not work. Not specifically.

It’s home. I know it is. I hate going home. It’s not home. It’s where I live, it’s who I live with, it’s how it is there. I suffocate. I really can’t stand playing family and house.  I hate knowing everyday I have to come home and play that role. I hate thinking about making dinner, buying groceries. I don’t care. I don’t care about decorating shit or about the yard or about the floor or about making sure the laundry is done and put up and the dishes are out of the sink. I just don’t care. And it’s not that I’m lazy, as a family member suggested. It’s that I DON’T CARE. I DO NOT CARE. IT IS NOT IMPORTANT TO ME. Why is that so hard to understand? Just because I’m female, I’m a wife, a mother…that doesn’t mean I give a shit about that stuff.  It doesn’t mean I want a certain kind of life. Being a mom changes some perspectives, some priorities, but it doesn’t change who I am. All those internal things that made me up before I was a mom still make me up now. I have more things than before, because of motherhood- not less.

This doesn’t mean that if I weren’t under some form of obligation to do some of these things due to the set up I’ve got myself into that I wouldn’t do them. Of course I would still buy groceries and feed myself and my child and wash clothes and clean the bathroom and wash dishes. But I would do it how I do it. In my time, in a way that is comfortable to me. And that may very well mean we eat pasta for 3 days straight and leave clothes sitting on the dryer all week long. Who gives a fuck? That doesn’t make me a bad person or a bad mom, not to me. But I’m not the only person in the picture, am I?

Something’s going to have to happen soon with our financial situation Everything is getting later and later and our life lines are drying up. Even if/when the other person in the house is bringing an income in again, somethings are just so far gone. It’s not like I’ve had a choice. Managing our finances for 16 months of one income when we had two and unemployment where we are consistently more than 1,000 dollars short every month…some people just don’t get paid. And everyone gets paid late. And money is begged off of family members. And credit is maxed, savings is drained. But do we still have our house, car, utilities, phone, tv, internet, clothes, food…yes. Thanks to God and generous family and in some part, me, right? I run this shit. This is one of the things I just about can’t do any more. I’m ready to give up. Whatever that means…Bankruptcy? I don’t know. I just about do not care. I’m so done.

I want to start over. I know so much more now than I did when I let myself go down this road. I want to start over with what I have within me now. But I’m scared. Not so much for myself, but for my child. There is a lot of manipulative destructiveness and blind anger that resides here. I don’t want to be the one to unleash it. I don’t want my child damaged by it. I also, don’t want to live a life I don’t want. I won’t do that. I already decided that. I just don’t know how to get from here to there.

I’ve dissected the past, I’ve imagined the future, I’ve examined my self and I know that what matters is this- this doesn’t fit, this doesn’t work for me, and honestly, I don’t believe it will, I don’t believe it can. I don’t think I should have to be different, should have to adjust myself to make something work – I don’t think anyone should. It works or it doesn’t. Not that everything has to be perfect, or easy, but it shouldn’t be a job. It shouldn’t be work. It shouldn’t be constant sacrifice of a person to meet another person’s standards or needs. I don’t want that. I can’t do that. I’m not okay with that.   I don’t think that in itself means anything bad, it just is. It just is. But that isn’t really that simple.

I’m afraid (and relieved?) that I think this is out of my hands. I think I have to keep my mind right and wait. I think. Or I will be pushed. I don’t know, I’m not clear on this yet…I’m trying to listen. God, I’m trying to listen. I’m petitioning these weights on my heart. I’m asking for your help. I have throughly made mistakes, set you and my belief aside, let someone else take the lead. I am so so sorry. I understand your forgiveness. Please help me get to the life you have in mind for me, the one that does work for me, that does fit me. I love you. I love you. I love you. Thank you for never forsaking me, for holding my heart, for open arms, for  healing, for every little moment you gift me with your presence, your assurance, your guidance, I don’t want to do this without you again. I believe.

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