I don’t understand you yet. On one hand we have such a good
time together, but on the other hand you say things that just turn me off. And I
don’t know if you mean things the way you say them, or not because there are these
sky high walls up that I don’t stand a chance of climbing. Some times I don’t think
I want to. I’ll Just let you go when you’re done here. Because without knowing
me, or my trauma, my past, or my triggers you have made remarks about my weight,
my housekeeping or perceived lack thereof, my laundry habits and then my
driving.
What you don’t know anything about is what my life looks like
when I wake up at 6 am. When I get out of bed and immediately have a house to
take care of, dogs to feed, kids to feed, kids to get to school, and then
maybe- just maybe! I might get out of the house without forgetting what I
need (Just for the record, that rarely happens) on my way to a full time job
that needs me there at 8. My life isn’t clean and organized and its not working
out after work or cleaning part of the house every night when I get home. What
you don’t know anything about is that I spend a stupid amount of time stressing
over being a good mom and giving my kids a clean house, with a full fridge and clean
clothes and fewer dogs. I want them to know how hard I try for them, but I am
always so tired.
Maybe my life looks like a dining room table covered with
toys and mail because that’s the heart of the house. It looks like a sink load
of dishes because I care more about how my boys did that day. It’s crooked
couch cushions because you can’t play “The floor is Lava” without knocking
things over a little bit and throwing things on the floor. Its the endless
parade of laundry baskets that work as dressers because after being gone 11
hours a day, and then making dinner, feeding the dogs and actually washing the
clothes, I am to damn tired and sore after 15 hours to do anything else. And it
doesn’t matter in the long run anyway. It’s a subtle dusting of dog hair in some spots because at
some point we opened ourselves to loving these creatures that changed our lives.
That doesn’t mean that my sheets are dirty, or they smell. I don’t remember
what scent the laundry soap is, but I know its not ‘Eau De Canine’. I’ve heard some
hurtful things before but between the weight of carrying a house, 2 kids, a
full time job, car problems, money shortages, lack of sleep, constant and
increasing physical pain, and maybe 30 minutes to myself a week I just don’t have
it in me to clean the carpets every week, lose 40 pounds, take up a physical
hobby that hurts me even more at the end of the day. I just don’t have it in
me, literally/ physically/ emotionally/ financially.
My life is more love and less organized. It’s the sound of
singing and dancing around the kitchen one night and yelling at each other the
next night. Its laughing and tickling and bedtime routines and the near nightly
debate on whether I want to go to bed because I’m asleep on my feet or do I want
to watch 20 minutes of something? Its forgetting to take the pill that makes me
feel better because I’ve been running all over for everyone else since I got home.
Or trying to remember if I ate today. Its crying from frustration and exhaustion
for no reason at all. Maybe I just have to pee, but I’m so fucking tired that
when I get up my whole body feels like it’s made of lead.
I’m not for everybody. And I like it that way. I guess what I’m
saying is that you can take me or leave me, but don’t take me and then try to change
me. You don’t know how hard I’ve fought to get here.
