Will I ever make it home....: Me.

Will I ever make it home....

Friday, May 12, 2006

Me.

I haven't been writing as often for so many different reasons. I am just tired. Of everything it seems like that. I think I have begun what seems like a small depression. We are moving. Everything is not going as planned. I still haven't packed up my apartment. I still haven't finished painting the new place. I am not ready to hand over my son. I am not ready to be 23. I am not in any way ready for a summer that is childless, and full of me time. Yes, I want a break. But not such a long coma from my son. I want to wake up and see his smile everyday. I am already getting teary eyed thinking about it.

Who will demand kisses and hugs on instant? Who will want me to read bedtime stories to him? Who will climb all over me when I just want to lay there? Who will argue back with me with, "But, I love you, Mommy!!"? Who will poop in his diaper and stink up the new place? Who will make me suffer through more child movies? I can answer this. Certainly not Gabe. He will be with my XH in Texas and I will be here. In Maryland. 1600 miles away.

My birthday is next Tuesday. I am upset about it. I didn't think that I would feel like this. I am so much more worn down at my mere 23 than I think most 30 year olds are. I feel wise beyond my years. I think back to my 18th birthday. And to each one after that. I have spent the last 4 birthdays with the same person. My XH. He never made a spectacle of my birthday. It was a reason for him to give me jewelry I wouldn't wear, and take me to restaurants I didn't like. I was the perfect trophy wife. I would abide his every wish. And now, for the first time in four years, I think I will actually miss having someone else tell me how to spend MY birthday. Or what I really wanted on MY birthday.

I don't want gifts or expensive meals. I don't want breakfast in bed. I just want my new house to be all organized, cleaned (painted!), and moved into. I want to spend time with my son. I want to just sleep. I want to just be happy. Why is it so difficult to me? I know that with my birthday, soon enough my son will be reunited with the XH. And with that will come teary phone calls. Depression. And a feeling of uselessness. Of not being worth something.

I haven't decided if I want to do school or find a second job. I will kinda support my XH when Gabe is with him. Since he got screwed on paper work, and some other stuff he asked if I could send him some extra cash. I didn't hesitate as I promised to send him some extra money. Can I afford it, why yes I can. Do I want to. Hell no. My extra money a month goes in savings. For OUR son. So he can have a little nugget when he grows up. I would love to commit to both the job and school. But we have a lot of stuff going on at work, and frankly when I get off I am basically worthless because I am so tired.

This post is just about everything that has been jumbled up in my head. I have a UTI. It is not fun. I feel awful, and I haven been taking out on everyone. I have displaced my anger towards everyone and put it on them. They are not the reason I am mad. Well, not completely. I am mad at myself. For being so selfish. For wanting to be something I shall never be. I hate that I am so jealous. That I am envious of others. I should be happy with myself, but I am not. I don't see the things that RC sees. I feel so.........ugly. Like the anger inside of me has transcended outwardly. Making me disfigured.

Eh, I don't know where I was going with that. I wish I could still write. You know entertaining things. But I can't find the right words. I don't feel it. It feels more like a chore. I am becoming more of a reclusive person. I have yet to make a good circle of friends. And since I don't like burdening people with my issues, I find it difficult for people to find me relatable. Or to feel that they can trust me.

I am weird. And I am sarcastic. I am in the words of my father, too modest and humble. Some people are intimidated by that. I know what I know. I know who I am. I am years apart from the invincible teenager with a craving for expensive drugs, loads of alchohol, and a hearty appetite for self-destruction. I am now a mommy to Gabe. A girlfriend/roommate to RC. I am the one who makes empty threats. The one who gets overwhelmed at most things. The one who over stresses and over analyzes just about everything. The one who would never get to realize her dreams. The one who recognizes her faults and flaws and points them out on a daily basis. I am tiresome. Whimsically drunk on motherhood, my "career", and on love. And best of all I am the eternal perfectionist.

Who can find these things endearing? Who can accept me with everything that I do wrong? Who can just overlook that I am not made in God's image but in my mother's? I am not a fallen angel, just a lost soul looking to be reunited with my loved ones. I write too often in my journal about how I am failing even my son. I leaf through the crinkled pages. The anger, frustration, and heartache written in each word, each curve of the ink spelling out my mania. Describing my depressions. Reading that you'd think I was this very angry, very sheltered housewife. Who didn't know how to love themselves. Who doesn't know how to be happy.

Well, I just wanted to get all this crap out of my head and out of my heart.

Have a nice weekend. I will come back on Wednesday with details from 30 Seconds to Mars and the rest of the moving process.

posted by The Devil @ 8:40 AM

0 Comments: