fuckery

guess who didn't call oliver on his fifth birthday?! his dad. shocker. what a miserable excuse for a parent. you're a terrible, horrible, no good, excuse for a "father" to my child. i thank god every day they have a real father in their lives.

also, i just love conversations about my parents' third grandchild. makes me relive those oh-so-happy days of my two pregnancies, where i was nothing less than shunned. i fondly recalled my ob-gyn appointments back in 2005. alone, scared, and when i asked if anyone cared to know the sex...what wonderful times. even better when i was dropped off at the medicaid office being told "good luck"...even better. god i wish i'd had a legitimate child. oh well.

i have my live in boyfriend, his three children (whose mother died of cancer, leaving me their mother for all intensive purposes) to take care of. oh and my one super illegitimate child, and other semi illegitimate child to care for. and the dog we paid way too much for. oh and the chains and whips we keep under our bed. and the upside down cross in the living room we gather around every saturday night.

fuck it. i'll just head to church and repent and give 10% of my child support check (should i receive it) each week to the church. then, i'll pray. and everything will be magical. and i will be loved and accepted by my wonderful christian family. and we'll laugh and play board games.

or...i could work my ass off at being the best mother, partner, and friend i can be. put every penny of my measly child support check (should i receive it) into buying and preparing food for my family of 5 growing kids, spend 100 hours a week without my partner while he works two jobs to support the seven of us, and spend it teaching our children fun games in the yard or tricks to cleaning the house or buying them slushies at sonic that they later spill everywhere. i tucked them into bed, tickling each one and making each one laugh and giggle before kissing them goodnight. and i'm fucking satisfied. i have done my best, a damned good job today. i'm glad i didn't waste 4 good hours of my sunday at church pretending to be amazing. i love my little dysfunctional and ever insane family. i do not regret a single second of my life with them. i do not regret (as painful as it is) losing an entire family over a religion and life choice. i am strong, i am a good person, i am an amazing mother. i'd be more than happy to show you my favorite finger if you think otherwise.

this is not a feel-sorry-for-little-ol-me post. this is a fuck-you-i'm-stronger-than-you-think posts.

so, fuck you.

what i wouldn't give...

what i wouldn't give just to forget
what i wouldn't give to get some rest
so i can remember how to live again
i just wanna live again
-holly brook

woke up this morning unsure of my ability to survive the day. i scurried the kids off to school and asked boy child three to go upstairs and watch some tv for awhile. he asked if it was because i had a headache, i said yes. he hugged my neck and told me to feel better and disappeared up the stairs. this isn't my first 'headache', not by far. so i crawled back into bed, pulling all the pillows up over my head, and fell asleep with tears running down my face.

i tossed and turned with the ever vivid dreams of torture, doom, and impossible situations that push me to my emotional and physical limits. i woke up sweating and tense over and over. i finally dragged myself out of bed at noon.

i could go on and tell how the rest of the day went, but i'm sure you can pretty much assume. i hate this fight, this battle that exists inside me every second. my kids need me, my lover needs me. my house, my yard, and my responsibilities need me. i've got to push past it. but i'm so exhausted.

today sucked.

i have been looking forward to this weekend all week, but now i'm afraid i'll ruin it all. mark's mom has offered to take the kids tomorrow so we can have a night alone, especially since he starts a new job on monday. i've never not needed a date night. then saturday we get to sleep in, go get the kids, and enjoy our annual neighborhood block party/cinco de mayo celebration saturday night. i just hope i can muster the strength to pull myself out of this pit by tomorrow. i feel like my feet are trapped in sand, like i'm carrying a pack of bricks on my back, like i could sleep for a week, but my head won't stop spinning. thinking. obsessing. guilting. being filled with anger.

oh what i wouldn't give to just forget.
to get some rest.
to be fucking normal.

just stop

i deleted my twitter account.

i'm tired of people whispering around me and making sure there's enough padding and protection around me. because oh, i'm so fragile, i just might break. well, please, direct it to me. i'm obviously strong enough to go through all i have. i'm just now going insane. this has been going on for 6 years people. rape. teen pregnancy. less than 24 hours away from having an abortion. kicked out of my high school. graduated 5 months pregnant while everyone else went to college. being in love with someone else who didn't know it. parents said to give the baby up for adoption or i'd have to move out. nathan's parents said they wanted the baby for themselves if we didn't want it. watched my parents fall apart around me. went wedding dress shopping with my aunt and grandmother who told me i had to wear an off  white gown. said she wouldn't come if i wore white. yes, my christian, missionary, preacher's wife, elders wife, hospitable, christian grandmother. i had to go to a different church while i was pregnant. my mother asked me not to go out in the front yard, but to come and go from the back. that was 'for my protection'. the day of aidan's birth was the 2nd worst day in my life. the 1st was my wedding day. i can't even begin to describe it. i will eventually, but i'm all shaky and weepy again. i moved to college station not knowing a single soul, cried for 3 months because i felt so deserted. found out i was pregnant, cried for 9 more months. waitressed the whole time. and took care of my little family that i didn't want. i didn't want any of this. where did my life go? oh that's right. i've been back and forth on meds, not on meds, haven't found a friend here yet. we've been here 3 and a half years. it's mostly my fault, yes. so don't whisper. don't watch what you say. don't try to protect me. because i've gone through all that shit and i'm still here. so just stop it.

nothing is what i thought it would be. nothing is right. nothing is what i wanted. terrible, huh?