Monday, July 8, 2013


i'm not very sweet.  sometimes i'm not affectionate towards my husband.  i accept this as a result of this season of my life, with kids under 8 and all. . . he does not, well, not really, though he tries.  i do resent the hell out of the differences in our lives sometimes. mostly, i mean adult foods for lunches and times alone.
 i know the kids 78% better than he does, and that is so very strange, and just the result of time, and breasts. breasts? friends? or tools?  hmm? 
occasionally i don't apologize to my kids when i snap at them.  this makes me feel worse than you can imagine, and i try not to hold on to that bad feeling beyond an hour, and i try to breathe myself to apologizing... and sometimes i suck at that in a big way. 
i expect people to help me. is this victimhood? really? well, it maybe that i expect them to offer so that i can turn them down. i am tired, dudes, help me.
i get really down 'for' other people, sometimes it gets confusing that my 'down' is not even mine. when i say 'i'm tired', i mean a very wide range of things and possibly, you should step back slightly. some of the things that i mean?  i'm lonely, i'm overwhelmed, i'm so sad, i'm avoiding something, i think that subject is dangerous, i am emotionally unstable. . . round, and plain. step back slightly.
sometimes the 22% he gets is way more fun than my 78. 
i am in desparate need of time alone each week. i'd love to have pointless time to meander somewhere but i'd take time doing chores too, if necessary. and in order to do that, currently, i have to give the strain and stress over to someone else. that seems to suck.  am i becoming a martyr to my own cause?
i am developing weakness, how does one grow something which lacks? shoot.
i go see chakra carol, reiki therapist with the mostest, tomorrow. i mix it up with another visit to my mother in the hospital, which is a mix of depression and obligation that is coloring these long hot summer days, i am willing myself to optimism and it hurts my ribcage.  my walnut heart knocks around in there, bruising the tender bits.

i'm looking around for the hope i usually handle. i'm sure its there, and by surety, i find it. right?


amyontheroad said...

Oy, does that alone-time and martyr stuff ring a bell. Let me know when/how you find a way round them. Godspeed.