Even though I like attention, and I love to talk about myself, I am glad I decided to make this blog private. When I first started it, the thought of it being private nearly sickened me, but since I've started writing, it's begun to seem more and more wise to choose my readers carefully. Today though, I wish it was completely totally utterly private. There are some things that I just need to vent about, but without anybody being able to hear what I have to say...except maybe Betty.
In my last post I had stated that I am happy. "Beyond happy" I think I may have said. Well, that was a lie. I don't usually lie, one, because I'm not very good at it anymore (used to be!), and two, because there really is no fucking point. I do lie about stupid things that don't matter, like how much money I have, like that there is a Santa and a Tooth Fairy, but I don't tend to lie about my emotions. I said that I was happy because I was trying to prove my parents wrong. They are wrong, but I don't need to say that I am happy to prove that. I am unhappy, not because I don't have GOD in my heart, but because my parents hate me. Because I have to work instead of being at home. Because I'm lazy and unmotivated. Because I let my kids stay up until midnight on a school night because I am too busy blogging to realize what's going on. Because I could really care less that Christmas Day is ten days away. Because I don't have enough money to give my babies a good Christmas. Because I live in an apartment, I don't have a puppy or a kitty, I don't have art on my walls, I don't have a clean home, I don't have good sleeps, I don't have I don't have I don't have. I want I want I want. That's all my mind is focused on lately. Instead of being grateful for what I have, I'm depressed about the things I don't have. I was coping decently with my sudden onset of depression until that fateful Sunday evening when my fucking parents stole my pride and self worth right from under me. Since then I haven't been able to take care of myself. I am a strong, stubborn, opinionated and passionate young woman. I always want to learn and explore and debate and question and hear your opinion on the matter. I want to defend to death my rights and my freedoms. I want to kick your fucking ass if you insult my family. But I can't anymore. You can tell me I am wrong, and I will say, "okay". My defence has been broken and all I can do is cry. I can't sleep anymore because as soon as its quiet, everything I've been trying to ignore all day comes creeping in, louder and louder. My mother and her hateful attitude. My father and his disappointment, my boss and his "SELL SELL SELL", my paycheck and its "$0.00", my sister and her stupidity, my brother and his priorities, my kids and their boredom, my husband and his loneliness, my pain. I can't remember the last time I felt like this, if ever. I must have done something terrible to deserve this, but I just can't figure out what it is. I will own up to it if that means I won't have to feel like this anymore.
My dreams, as I have mentioned before, are always very vivid. When I am depressed or stressed, they seem to get more vivid, and sometimes lucid. I like lucid dreams most of the time, but lately they seem to riddled with sex and alcohol. In my dreams I am a slutty alcoholic while my kids and my Landon watch from the sidelines. I don't know what this means, and I don't know why its happening. Everything I do hurts. I don't get peace no matter what. Maybe I do need God and his everlasting love. Maybe I do need to give up my free will to some unseen force to be happy. I'll pray tonight, and I'll let you know where it gets me.
No comments:
Post a Comment