Life Goes On

Life continues to move along, whether I'm paying attention or not.   Very little to nothing has changed since I last posted.  It's like I'm on a winding road with hills, switchbacks and no pavement.  I never know what is around the next bend.  Sometimes, I drive a little too close to the cliff's edge and I have to force myself to swerve away.  The only thing I can do is to drive slow.


I guess the biggest difference from a few months ago is that I don't cry as much.  I really went through a spell of intense sadness when all I could do was cry...when all I wanted to do was cry.  Although the tears have stopped, the intense sadness has not gone away.  I believe this will be with me forever.  The sadness includes deep regret, mostly for things left unsaid and undone.  Some of the sadness comes from fear.  I think the fear comes from isolation.  I'm afraid because I really don't know who I am.  I have lived for 54 years so far.  I have a husband, 3 children, family and friends.  Still, I have no clue what I'm doing.  I'm miserable most of the time and it appears that I bring others misery too.  I really don't know who I am.


Whatever is going on with me, it's going on deep inside.  Very deep.  Someone recently asked me if they think I'm having a "midlife crisis".  That kind of made me chuckle.  No, I really don't feel as though it's a crisis.  A crisis to me indicates something temporary.  Something that exists for a season and can be changed simply by changing circumstances or surroundings.  This kind of "fix" will not change what is going on inside of me.  Some would say, "only God can fix this".  Maybe.  The thing is, He and I have been having conversations about this for quite some time.  I see no light at the end of my tunnel.  Perhaps, this is the inner turmoil that He is allowing me to have for a purpose.  I think of Mother Teresa: 

 "In my heart, there is no faith. I want God with all the powers of my soul, and yet between us there is terrible separation."

I feel separated from everything and everyone, including God.  Especially God.

I was cleared by cardiology.  This means that the terrible chest and jaw pain is not my heart.  I have been cleared by gastroenterology.  This means that although I have severe GERD, it has not caused esophageal cancer...yet.  She did find a hiatal hernia which could be causing some of the pain, but it is a small one so they are going to leave it alone.  I haven't been to the oncologist yet to find out what's causing my hip pain.  I think I'm too scared.  With all the other things going on in my life right now, I do NOT need another bout with cancer.  I just don't. 

So, I plow through each day.  I get up, get dressed, go through all the motions I need to go through.  I smile and I nod.  I laugh at appropriate times, look sad and concerned at appropriate times, do everything I'm supposed to do and I do it all with the utmost emptiness and sadness. 

Maybe one day, I'll figure this out. 

Not Fair

Life is not fair.  I realize that no one said it would be, but this fact...along with everything else, just gets on my nerves.

My best friend from grade school passed away on Monday.  She just turned 54.  She died from metastatic breast cancer that had spread to her bones, lungs and liver.  She has twin 7 year olds (they were adopted).  I think she was cancer free for about 4 years after she was first diagnosed and treated.  It came back again and she had a few months in remission.  She battled this disease for close to 15 years.  But then...well, you know the rest.  She lived in constant pain.  It seems that cancer in your bones (particularly your spine and tailbone) is unrelenting and extremely painful.  She had a ton of chemo and quite a bit of radiation.

It used to be that if you were diagnosed with breast cancer, had surgery, and then adjuvant therapy (chemo, radiation), and if you were cancer free for 5 years....they considered you "cancer free".  As a non physician....this makes no sense to me.  All it takes is ONE CELL to remain in your body and the potential for recurrence is massive.  Which brings me back to myself.  I was diagnosed with Invasive Ductal Carcinoma on 7/8/08.  I had a mastectomy (left) on 8/4/08.  Started chemo in September.  I had 4 rounds of Taxotere and Cytoxin.  Completed chemo in December 2008 and then began a 5 year regimen of Arimidex (aromatase inhibitor for hormone positive breast cancers).  In February of 2009, I had a complete hysterectomy.  Since then, I have had PET scans and CAT scans, regular visits with an oncologist (until the summer of 2018 when he "cut me loose") and regular mammograms (on my uni boob) and regular lab work.  I have been cancer free for 11 years.

My gut tells me that it will more than likely return someday.  The chances of the chemo slashing the throat of every single cancer cell in my body seems a little far-fetched to me, but, here I am 11 years later.  Other than the residual effects of chemo (neuropathy in my hands and feet) and "white coat syndrome" (what can I say??) as well as my lack of a left breast, I really would not know I was ever sick.  But, 99 times out of a hundred, cancer wins.

Still, I have no idea why I was allowed to live cancer/symptom free for all these years, yet my dear friend from school died at age 54 (the same age I am) and leaves behind a loving husband and a set of 7 year old twins....plus three older step children, both parents and her sister.  Why?  Why was I the one to survive this (so far)?  Why?  There is nothing special about me.  But, Rosa....Rosa was very special.  She was the most kind and loving person I have ever met.  I never heard her utter a mean or unkind word about anyone!  She never complained (at least to me) accept to say that trying to raise her twins (who both have some other health issues) and manage the pain/fatigue was difficult sometimes.

Last night, I went through all of our emails and instant messages over the last 9 years and I am so sad.  So sad for the loss of Rosa.  Up until 2015, I hadn't been with her since we graduated from 8th grade.  But thankfully, through Facebook, we were able to reconnect.   I visited my home town in 2015 after my sister died.  Rosa invited us (my son traveled with me) to her house for a New Years Day (2016) brunch.  It was a blast!  I am so thankful that God allowed me to reconnect with her in this way.  I never thought that just 3 short years later, she would be gone.

She knew she was dying.  She ended treatment about a month ago and they called in hospice.  She emailed me a few times and told me how much she loved me and how thankful she was for our friendship.  I was blessed to have had these moments with her...even if it was over the internet.  The last time we exchanged email was on 7/21/19.  She passed away on Monday, 8/12/19...just 3 weeks later.

Just when I feel like I might be climbing out of the pit of darkness that I live in....something like this happens and, I just feel like God has it in for me.  None of this makes any sense...AT ALL.

Thank you, Rosa, for all that you contributed to my life and to the world.  I hope we can see each other again some day.  I look forward to it.

I'm Curious

So, I'm curious.  Why do some people struggle and others seem to sail through life with ease?  This is mostly a rhetorical question as I realize that things are never exactly as they appear.  But what I'm getting at is, sometimes it seems that a person gets hit over and over again and can never really regain strength enough to get up. 

Believing in God can sometimes make this more difficult because the question needs to be asked, "Why does God allow so much strife for some people and not others"?  The answers are pretty standard...."God never gives you more than you can handle"....."You must be a good Christian because the devil is attacking you more"...."You must have a lesson that God wants you to learn"...."It only seems that your world is falling down around you, but it isn't"...."You're still alive and breathing so is it really that bad"...."There are others that have it far worse than you so stop complaining"....blah, blah, blah.

If I reflect on the last few months to a year of my life, I've come to some possible conclusions:

1. God does not really exist.  It's a made up, fabricated fairy tale that is meant to give you an illusion that someone gives a rats ass about you and your circumstances.
2. God does exist and He's a joker and gets His jollies off on creating havoc in people's lives...almost driving them off the edge of a cliff.

There might be other possibilities too, but I'll just quit while I'm ahead.

Can you tell that I'm bitter?  You can't?  Well, let me spell it out for you a little better:

   You know that poem about there being only one set of footprints in the sand?  Well, I don't feel like I'm being carried, nor do I feel like I've ever been carried!  That's right!  I feel abandoned, left fully alone to fend for myself.  Today, I feel like prayer is a waste of time.  It's a farce!  I go to church, I pray, but to no avail.  I'm just going through the motions like a good little pawn.  Ha!  The jokes on me!

Who Am I?

Do you ever feel like you are standing on the outside looking in at your own life?  I'm living my life.  Things are happening to me.  I'm living, breathing...being.  Yet, it feels like it's someone else.  I don't feel like me.  I feel like a visitor...and outsider.  I feel so disconnected to myself.  Nothing seems familiar. 

Nathan is totally gone.  His room is empty...well, actually, we've moved Amelia in there.  He is really and truly gone.  It doesn't seem possible that 19 years have passed that quickly.  Where did the time go?  Oh, if only I could go back....go back to the year 2000.  I would do so much differently!  Everything differently!  I wish there was a way to go back to that time and slow it down. 

I have no words for the emptiness I feel....no words for the unfamiliarity of this situation.  I feel so out of my element....a little like I'm living someone elses life.


Sleep.  I need to sleep.  I don't feel anything when I sleep.

I found them!

I found my tears again.  For several weeks, they had dried up.  They're back.  In full force.  Can't seem to stop it today.  It's awkward while I'm at work.  Feeling very anxious and like my world is crashing in around me.  Having health problems too....that are likely anxiety related, but I can't be sure. 

Saw an episode of America's Got Talent yesterday where a young autistic man played the piano and sang.  I cried watching it...and haven't been able to stop the tears since.  Feel like I'm losing it!

Oh, please help me.  Please.

There's more?

Just when I thought it couldn't get any worse...tada!  I was notified yesterday that my 7th grader will be retained in 7th grade for another year.  She failed math and civics.  That's all.  The school counselor called, told me matter of factly...and said goodbye.  She never offered any solutions or recommended any way to help.  I was stunned and since she called me at work and there were people standing around my desk...I didn't ask any questions.  I called my husband and he asked me about summer school.  I emailed the counselor and asked.  Her response was simple, "No, unfortunately there are no summer school options offered for 7th graders".  Not one word more.  So, I did what I always do, I panicked.  I knew she was going to be close, but her last day of school is the 31st...you would have thought the school would have reached out to me sooner.  Sigh.  I hate that school.  That school is the reason for most of my anxiety these days. 

Anyway, I was able to talk to a friend who talked me off the ledge.  She is also a guidance counselor at a local high school.  She was able to look at my daughter's records and found that she passed the first semester of math, but failed the second.  Therefore, she suggested that I enroll her in FVS (Florida Virtual School) for the summer for the 2nd semester math curriculum.  If she passes that, she should be promoted.  She can take civics as an 8th grader, but will lose one of her elective classes and more than likely, she'll have another "history" class as well.  It will only work if the guidance counselor "approves" this plan.  To hell with her if she doesn't. 

I do not need another thing.  I don't.  I can't handle any more.  Each day, I feel like a part of me dies.  Soon, there will be nothing left.  What do I do then?  It's only a matter of time.

Keeping it together

I've been doing my best to keep it together.  My son graduated from high school last week.  It's been very busy.  My Goddaughter also graduated, so there was that.  And, I had to attend a baby shower for the daughter of one of my best friends.  Yes, it's been busy.  I've had to dress up, be nice and smile a lot over the last week. 

I think it's strange that I had no emotion whatsoever when my son crossed the stage and received his diploma.  I didn't even tear up....which makes no sense since all I've done lately is cry.  I did feel pride...just like all the other parents there, but there were no tears.  Maybe, it just hasn't hit me yet.  He's moving out too.  Yep, he and two friends are moving into a house that one of the guys mother owns.  They went there yesterday to do some cleaning.  New carpet is being laid today.  It won't be long now before he is all moved out.  Again, no emotion. 

Maybe it's like a pressure cooker and one of these days soon, it'll blow.  I don't know.  Still just going through the motions, I guess.  I wish I could feel some happiness, some contentment.

The only good news was, I had 4 days off from work (including Memorial Day).  It was nice not to have to get up at o dark thirty.  But, we had another horrible thing happen in our house (I won't go into the details), but sometimes I wonder if it wouldn't be easier to just torch the entire house and start over. 

I feel a panic attack coming as I type this.  Feeling slightly nauseous and like I need to have diarrhea.  I'm the only one in the office at the moment...and I can't tell if that's a good or a bad thing.

Amelia finished school last week also.  Olivia is the only one still going as her last day isn't until the 31st. 

Amelia starts work/camp today...and Olivia starts her gymnastics camp on the 10th.  Nathan is going to help me with dropping them off and picking them up.  I really need a break. 

Nothing new to report....it's the same emptiness, same despair, same brokenness....just a different day.

Why?

No one told me this would be so hard.  The things that I thought would be easy...aren't.  Likewise, the things I figured would be hard, have been the easiest.  It's like I'm living in an alternate reality.
Right now, I feel like I'm living in the "Stranger Things" world of the "upside down". 

I don't know what to do.  I'm 54 years old and I don't have a clue about what to do next....how to handle how I'm feeling...what to let go of and what to hang on to.

Sleep is my only escape.

Mother's Day Pity Party

Mother's Day was a bust...at least for me.  I never once brought it up to anyone, and never once did anyone say, "Mom, what would you like to do Sunday?"  So, this is how it went...

Saturday night, Nathan had to work from 5pm to 2am.  I brought him to work and Dan was setting an alarm so he could go pick him up.  The girls were either in bed or watching tv.  Dan and I were laying in bed watching tv.  Actually, if truth be told, I was watching old episodes of The West Wing on Netflix via my phone....but I digress.  At about 10:15pm, I heard Dan swear under his breath.  He got up and started to get dressed.  I asked him where he was going...."Walmart".  I asked him why and he said, "because I just have to go". 

So, I knew that he had suddenly remembered it was Mother's Day.  After he left, I texted him and said that I know why he had to suddenly dash out and that I really don't want any Mother's Day presents....especially since he was bitching about money just a few short hours before.  He said he promised to not spend too much (I mean, how much can you really spend at Walmart?).  He took Olivia with him.

Fast forward to Sunday morning.  I wasn't feeling well.  My stomach was very upset and I had to keep running back and forth to the bathroom.  At one point, when I got up from the bed, I felt dizzy.  I decided that since Nathan didn't get home from work until almost 3am, that he, myself and Olivia would go to the 6pm mass later on.  Dan took Amelia with him to the 10.

On the dining room table was a really nice bouquet of flowers (actually, there were 2) in a fancy vase.  I guess one was for me and the other for his mom.  He bought a very nice card and signed all the kids' names and his own. 

Not once during the day did any of my kids say Happy Mother's Day to me.  Not one.

When I was taking Nathan to work at 12pm, he asked me if I wanted to go out for dinner later.  He still has 2 unused gift cards to Maggiano's and he knows I like that place.  It was kind of him to ask, but my stomach still wasn't feeling right, so I said maybe we could go one day this week.  As it turned out, he came home from work early because he wasn't feeling well either (he was dizzy too).  I just assumed he was asking me to dinner because it was Mother's Day...although he never said it.

On top of all that, I made breakfast for everyone Sunday morning...biscuits and sausage gravy as well as scrambled eggs.  I cleaned the kitchen, washed and folded 3 loads of laundry and made dinner (baked chicken, steamed broccoli, rice and some sweet potato gnocchi that I bought from Trader Joes. 

Olivia posted a Happy Mother's Day note to me on her Instragam after dinner.  As I write this, I checked her Instagram...and mine and I don't see the post.  So maybe, she just made it for me and didn't post it.

It was a bust.  I'm sad.  Sadder than usual.  I wish just one of them would have said..."No mom, it's Mother's Day...let me fold those clothes for you....let me wash those dishes". 

Honestly, I haven't been a very good mother in a long time.  I suppose this is payback.  They need you when they're little and then, as they grow, you become less and less important in their lives.  As the demands got bigger and more complicated, I failed them.  It's not a big secret that I suck as a mother.  The reality of it stings though. 

I feel very unloved.  Truly.  But I'm not sure why this upsets me.  I don't want to be here anymore.

May the 4th be with you.

Saturday was the 4th anniversary of my little sister's death.  It's weird, that seems so long ago, yet I feel like I just saw her.  My sister and I had a love/hate relationship.  We got along much better when we lived several states apart and only had the phone to communicate.  She was bed bound for the last 4 or so years of her life.  She struggled.  She suffered. 

I miss her.  I so much wish that I had her to talk to, especially during this particular time in my life when my world is so dark that I can't even see my hand in front of me.  There is so much I would change about our relationship.  I would be more understanding of her addiction.  I would not be so judgmental.  I would ask her for advice.  I would let her know that she mattered to me.  I would tell her that I loved her.

She died on May 4th.  All those Star Wars fans love this day.  I remember it as a sad day.  Collaboratively, her boyfriend (of more than 20 years), her daughter and I had to make the decision to remove life support.  I waited with them (over the phone) until she took her last breath.

Since then, I've been an orphan.  My dad died when I was 17 and my mom died in 2006.  And, my sister in 2015.  Sometimes, I wonder why I am left here.  I'll never figure that one out.   I know they are waiting for me.  We will be a family again some day...and maybe not so dysfunctional. 

Busyness

I've been trying to keep busy.  It seems that if I keep busy, I don't have to think.  If I think, then I feel and if I feel, then the bad thoughts come.  So, it's just better to keep busy.  I mean, I'm a mom to 3 teenagers (one has autism, one is graduating from high school this month, and the other is pretty low key), keeping busy really isn't a problem.  Except when I have no desire to interact with anyone. 

It's funny...as I write this and as I'm reflecting on it....I'm amazed.  No...impressed that I have been able to put on this act for so long.  It's almost automatic.  I go into "pretend" mode.  I can pretend that nothing is wrong...that everything is just fine and that my life is completely normal.  I'm very good at it.  The thing is, it wasn't anything I planned or anything that I thought about.  It just comes naturally.  Not the lying part, but the "stuffing it" part.

You know how when you see someone you haven't seen in a while, you might ask them, "How are you doing?"  Deep down, you don't really want them to tell you how they're doing.  It's just pleasantries.  It's just something you say.  Being polite.  When you ask that question, you hear a lot of "I'm fine" or "I'm doing well"....even though I would guess that 95% of the time, people are not telling the truth. 

I'm almost never telling the truth when asked that question.  Never.

So, if you see me and ask me how I'm doing....and if I say "fine"....just know, I'm not fine.  My world is falling apart.  I'm lying to you.   But, I'm handling it.  I'm keeping myself busy.

Emptiness

I literally have nothing left inside to give.  Do you know how that feels as a mother?  To not have anything left to give to your children...emotionally.  My oldest is about to graduate from high school and move out of the house with his friends.  He excitedly showed me the pictures of the house and which bedroom would mostly likely be his...and I had no emotion whatsoever.  I had to pretend.  I wasn't excited and I wasn't sad.  I just wanted it to be over.  Bring on the graduation, bring on all the stuff that comes with that...so it can be over.  I just want to get through each day, without anyone bugging me, so that I can come home, change my clothes and crawl into bed.  I don't want anyone to ask me for anything.  I don't want anyone to require anything from me. 

I was once told that there is a difference between "being alone" and "being lonely".  I never understood that...until now.  I feel very lonely.  I feel isolated within myself.  If I seek out the company of others, I will no longer "be alone", but the feeling inside doesn't change.  There are other people that live in my house 24/7.  I am never really "alone".  Heck, I can't even go to the bathroom without one of my kids, or the dog needing something.  The thing is, right now, I think this is how it has to be.  I have no desire for anyone else to invade my loneliness.  I just want to live in that place, that isolated, desolate place.

I wish I could feel like I used to.  Normal.  I wish this heaviness would go away.  I would like to breathe easier.  Feel lighter.

I see my regular doctor today.  Been having some chest pain over the last few months.  I've tried to ignore it.  Ignoring is my thing lately.  But, my son seemed concerned when he caught me pacing the living room floor at 2 am night before last.  I was debating about whether or not to drive myself to the emergency room.  He kept wanting me to wake his dad.  He was concerned enough that he mentioned it to one of his buddies, who in turn, asked me how I was feeling.   Not sure the doctor will do anything.  But, I don't want my son to worry.  He's about to start his new life of adulthood and he doesn't need his mother bringing him down.  As I reflect on my own life, this was an exciting time.  He needs to be free of this mother's problems.

Why are the days so long?

Tears

It appears that my tears have dried up.  I haven't cried in two days.  I'm at that point where I have nothing left to cry.  I am completely empty.  Completely drained.  There just aren't any more tears.

I saw a friend yesterday that I haven't seen since 1993.  We graduated from high school together.  The last time I saw her was at our 10 year class reunion.  She and her partner have retired and they travel around the country in a huge, luxurious RV.  It was very good to see her.  She made me laugh.  We had dinner, had a few glasses of wine and talked about old times.  We remembered things we'd done together and we reminisced about how good we had it "back then".  She brought me back to a place in my past where things were good.  I think I'll live in those memories for awhile.

Escape

I tried to escape this past weekend.  Went to Orlando with 2 of my three kids to attend a special mass down in Orlando where a friend of mine (a Catholic Bishop) was presiding. 

This was one of those things where it "sounded like a good idea at the time".  We were only there for about 36 hours, but it was just enough time to escape my black hole for a brief moment...or so I thought.   For a few hours, I was distracted enough that I could concentrate on trying to let my kids have a good time.  We ended up spending the day at Epcot.  We had fun, but it was a challenging day.  I don't like the heat and I don't like crowds....and to be honest, I am NOT a fan of Disney.  But, the trip allowed me to be somewhat removed from the heaviness that I've been carrying.  The trip was not without it's stresses.  Everything costs an arm and leg at Disney, and there was a problem with the hotel.  But we managed to laugh a little.  An illusion.

On the car ride home, I was reminded what awaited me when I pulled into my driveway at home...the same darkness that I left early Saturday morning.  As my kids slept and I drove, the tears came, again.  I didn't want to go home, yet I didn't want to be where I was either.  It seems that the only time I get real relief is when I sleep.  70 miles an hour on Interstate 95 is not a place to sleep...so, I stayed awake, dreading getting home.

It seems I can't escape it, even though I try.  I just want it to stop.  I don't want to feel like this anymore.  The sorrow wells up inside of me and I feel like I will burst.  I feel like someone has died.  Maybe it's a part of me that has died.  Either way, the only thing I can equate this feeling to is mourning.  Sadness, heaviness...it's all there.  Have you ever seen video of a shark swimming through the water with several sucker fish attached to them.   I feel like this darkness, this sadness is stuck to me like that....following me wherever I go.

If I learned anything this weekend, it's that running away or trying to escape doesn't help.  You can change your scenery, change your company...but the root of the problem remains.  So, right now...today...all I can do is look forward to the next time I can sleep. 

When can I sleep?  Hopefully, soon.

Release

I didn't cry as much yesterday.  I managed to hold it in for most of the day.  It was busy at work and I had to take part in a peer interview which meant I had to prepare and concentrate.  I guess, in some ways, it was a relief to not focus inwardly so much.  I was forced to focus on someone/something other than myself.  Maybe that's part of my problem, however as I have  mentioned before, I don't care much about what I should be doing or what other people think should be my focus.  I'm done trying to comply and conform.  Is this selfish?  Yes.  Do I care what you think about that?  No.

While I managed to stifle the tears most of the day, there were moments when the sorrow I feel inside was overwhelming.  It overcomes me like a wave.  It can't be stopped.  It just is.  I'm really not sure how a human being can handle this much sadness, this much sorrow, this much disappointment.  I now understand how it is that people get to the point where they can't take it one more minute.  It consumes you.

I wish there was a pill I could take that would instantly make this better.  There isn't one.  Oh, I've been on medication many times in my life for depression and anxiety.  Sometimes they work, but only for awhile.  Sometimes they don't work at all.  In the end, I'm left with the reality of who I am.

Still, I have to function.  I have to get up each morning, get dressed, get to work, pick up the kids, get home....and then collapse.  The effort involved in just moving through my day is shocking, even for me.  I feel as though I've run a marathon. I ache all over and I just want to be left alone.  I don't want to have to talk or interact with anyone.  The kids used to not understand this.  Now, they do.  For the most part, they ignore me too, only coming to me when it's absolutely necessary.  Sometimes, I try to interact with them like a mother should.  Mostly, I fail at that too.  I realize that I'm a lousy mother and believe me, this brings me down even further.  If there is anything left that I do care about, it is this.

Sometimes I wonder if me being gone would be better for them.  They could move on with their lives and eventually, their memory of me and my lousiness would fade.  Perhaps at some point, they would be able to remember the good times and not the bad. 

Today, I just wish I could sleep.  But, I have to go through the motions.  I have another peer interview today (we are trying to hire a manager).  Then, we're supposed to take a trip as a family this weekend.  Part of me is dreading it.  Part of me thinks that maybe, even for a short time, I can pretend things are fine...and maybe they will be, until we come home.  Then reality hits me in the face again and I'm back to square one. 

I just want to go to sleep.

Sleep

Sleep is my friend.  It truly is the only time I feel like I am free from this turmoil.  As soon as I get home from work (or picking up the kids), I immediately change into something to sleep in and crawl into bed.  Last night, Amelia asked me "Mom, what's for dinner"?  Sadly, my answer was something like, "I don't care, have whatever you want".  So, she did.  Cereal.  I think Nathan walked up to Subway and Olivia ate chips and salsa (which is her preferred meal anyway).  It won't kill any of them.  I think that at some point later, I made some ramen for myself.  I couldn't eat it all so Olivia ate what she could and the dog got the rest.

No, I'm not proud of my behavior but, I feel like I'm holding on with threads at the moment and I'm doing what I have to in order to survive.  You couldn't make dinner in that kitchen right now anyway.  It's a mess.  There are dishes piled high in the sink.  Not a clean piece of silverware anywhere to be found.  Each of my children have two working hands.  There is no reason why they can't do a dish and clean up after themselves.  No, they expect me to do it. Guess what?  I'm not. 

What I really needed last night was for one of them....just one, to say that they would make dinner, that they would clean up.  They know that things aren't right with me.  They see it, they feel it.  They are very selective about when they want to be helpful.  There always has to be something in it for them.  I suppose, if you want to get down to brass tacks, this is my fault too.  Isn't everything the moms fault?

I vacillate between feeling guilty and not caring.  I just don't have the strength to fix this.  Whatever "this" is. 

I can't seem to stop crying.  Just when I think the waterworks are done, here they come again.  The entire office thinks I have a cold.  I get up from my desk to go to the bathroom and as soon as I'm out of the sight of another human, the floodgates open up.  I cry silently in the stall.  When the sorrow is so deep and powerful, it physically hurts to try and cry silently.  I use up almost a whole roll of toilet paper to blow my nose.  Then, I trek back to my desk and struggle through another hour or so, until the gates open again.  This is my life.  Have you ever the heard the song "Catch My Breath" by Kelly Clarkson?  Yeah.  Interesting song.

Yesterday, the scientific world shared the first real pictures of a black hole.  Interestingly enough, it didn't look much different than the pictures of what we assumed it looked like.  We had confirmation yesterday that so far, what we have hypothesized about black holes, seems to be ringing true. 
A black hole in the middle of space that is sucking everything in it's vicinity into it and nothing escapes, not even light.  I see my life as a black hole.  I feel like I'm skimming the edges.  Any moment now, and I'll be sucked in.

Where is the joy?

Some days, it's just too hard to find.  Today, I feel so sad that I'm not even bothering to look for it.  There are days (like today....most days) when I wonder what the heck is the point of any of this.  You're born, you grow up with hopes and dreams.  Some dreams come true, at least for a short time, but mostly, those get smashed with reality.  Then, it's time to die and for what?  Was any of it worth it?  Today, the answer for me is, no.

Today, I feel hopeless.  It's just that simple.  I feel empty.  I feel like I have nothing left to give another human being.  The life has been sucked out of me.

I just want to sleep.  I want to change into my jammies, take an Ativan (panic/anxiety), snuggle under my pillows and blankets....and sleep.  For two weeks straight.  I don't want to be bothered.

Usually, when I'm in this place (and yes, I've been here before), I push it all down, down, down into the depths of my being....and pretend.  I pretend everything is fine.  I go  to work, chauffer the kids, cook, grocery shop, smile and say all the right things so no one knows how I'm really feeling.  It really works too, at least for everyone else.  I just become more resentful.  I think right now, I am at my maximum resentfulness.

Sigh.  I'm just so tired.  Tired of always feeling like this.  It gets old.  It's hard to keep on pretending and I think this is why I decided to write today.  Are you ready?  Here it is in all it's simplicity....I'm done pretending.  No more.  I'm done.  I don't care what people think, I don't care if the laundry gets done, I don't care if the kids eat cereal for dinner or if no one ever does the dishes.  I can no longer be the everything to everyone.  I simply no longer care.

One day soon, I will pack my car and start driving.  I won't know where I'm going or where I'll end up.  I will just be.  I will just "be" in such a way that no one will bother me.  I will fade into the woodwork, quietly.  I will be free.