I think it was last year that I decided to blog every day for a month. I think my cool friends Lanna and Edmund inspired me to do this thing. And I think it made me sort of happy. As happy as I get.
Maybe I'll try to do this thing again.
I have less time to myself than ever before.
Even when the door to my room is shut, I'm not alone. The voices of upset kids, the hysterical barking of the dog, the ringing phone, all constant reminders that I am needed and my time away alone is time that should be spent attending to everything else.
I've had a shitty year, looking November last to November now.
I'm worn down, quite miserable.
I don't much like my own company right now, and yet I long so desperately to be alone.
I recall reading Ibsen's A Doll's House way back in high school or college. I was stunned that a mother would leave her children like that. Only a horrible selfish person would walk away from her own children.
There are days like today when after giving everything I have to my children I am asked to give just that little bit more and finding my self lacking and completely inadequate I dream of walking out the door. I think to myself, someone else could do this better than I can. I'm not up to the demands of this job. I can't do this anymore.
Instead I sulk around the house like only a passive aggressive fuck can, and declare at 4:30 in the afternoon that I am going to bed. I only give into that sort of drama when the spouse is at home to feed and supervise the kids. Just for the record.
I know my display is ridiculous.
In that moment of exasperation, I don't care.
Thirty seconds later, I care very much and yet at that point it's just too late.
How I long to place this wedding ring on the scarred dining room table, kiss the sleeping children good bye, and walk out the door.
I do not want to do this anymore.
I am tired.
I am lost.
This is not my life.
I am not myself.
Maybe I'll try to do this thing again.
I have less time to myself than ever before.
Even when the door to my room is shut, I'm not alone. The voices of upset kids, the hysterical barking of the dog, the ringing phone, all constant reminders that I am needed and my time away alone is time that should be spent attending to everything else.
I've had a shitty year, looking November last to November now.
I'm worn down, quite miserable.
I don't much like my own company right now, and yet I long so desperately to be alone.
I recall reading Ibsen's A Doll's House way back in high school or college. I was stunned that a mother would leave her children like that. Only a horrible selfish person would walk away from her own children.
There are days like today when after giving everything I have to my children I am asked to give just that little bit more and finding my self lacking and completely inadequate I dream of walking out the door. I think to myself, someone else could do this better than I can. I'm not up to the demands of this job. I can't do this anymore.
Instead I sulk around the house like only a passive aggressive fuck can, and declare at 4:30 in the afternoon that I am going to bed. I only give into that sort of drama when the spouse is at home to feed and supervise the kids. Just for the record.
I know my display is ridiculous.
In that moment of exasperation, I don't care.
Thirty seconds later, I care very much and yet at that point it's just too late.
How I long to place this wedding ring on the scarred dining room table, kiss the sleeping children good bye, and walk out the door.
I do not want to do this anymore.
I am tired.
I am lost.
This is not my life.
I am not myself.
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