Things here are shitty. They suck. If you were here, you would probably have me committed, a la Britney.
I am angry. I am very, very angry. I am pissed off at the Universe. It has fucked me over royally, and I don't care who knows it.
(If you're sitting there thinking that the Universe isn't really responsible, and that it's either A) God or B) me, or even that things aren't all that bad, please click elsewhere. Now. This is *my* nightmare, and you aren't going to rain on it.)
My life is not the life I want. I don't like it. I don't enjoy it. I deserve better. I think that's my big problem. I deserve better, and instead I got this, and that pisses me off. I, Jane, am a pretty pretty princess and a Kennedy and a Mensa candidate and a few other wonderful things, and I might as well be living in a trailer park with a man named Bubba and a pack of rottweilers.
I deserve a man who will fawn over me, a man who will think that the sun shines out of my ass, and worship the ground I walk on. I deserve someone who will treat me like I am the Grand High Pooh-bah of the World, a one and only irreplaceable treasure. Once upon a time, I had that. I was with someone who thought that I was made of diamonds held together by fairy dust and the grace of the Baby Jesus. You know what I did?
I left him for someone who ***THIS POST HAS BEEN EDITED BY THE AUTHOR BECAUSE HER HUSBAND READS HER BLOG***
I deserve children whose noses don't run all the time, who think I am perfect and gorgeous and the World's Coolest Mommy. I deserve children who sleep through the night, who dress themselves and wipe their own asses, who are brilliany baby geniuses, who never cry and always smile and are never, never sick. You know what I have?
I have children. Normal children. Just like you, and her, and that lady over there. They fight and yell and scream and cry and poop and puke and run and dance and give kisses and hugs and sing songs and count to ten (!) and ask "Why?" more times than I could ever count. They're gorgeous, yes, but definitely human.
I deserve a job that pays me what I'm worth. I deserve a job that recognizes the ways in which I bust my ass for other people all day long, how I spend way more time than I have working to do my best, how I struggle to find the nicest, best way possible to tell a mom that her son is a ginormous bully, or that her daughter is acting like an idiot to try and fit in with the other girls her age. I deserve a job that gives me respect, the respect that I don't get from kids, kids who think I'm just a talking head out to give them more homework. I deserve a job that allows me to buy food and medicine, with enough left over to fix the smashed-in front end of my car.
Instead? I make $21.25 an hour, when you break it down (assuming that I only work 40 hours a week, Monday through Friday. Ha.). I get sass and attitude like you wouldn't believe. I get ignored while I'm talking. I get blamed for other people's problems. I get treated like hired help, instead of a trained professional.
I deserve a house. That's it. A house that's mine, that I can decorate and clean and arrange and just *be* in. I had it. It's still there, empty. I'm not there.
Instead, I'm here, sharing a 3 bedroom, 1000 square-foot house with 7 people and two cats, including two toddlers, a teenager, three diabetics, a crazy lady*, and a female who insists on wearing that hideously offensive Axe body spray for men, which smells like burning flesh and melting plastic. Did I mention that the cats think their mission in life is to kill the other and take all the food?
I deserve friends. I'm likeable. I'm slightly too loud, I tend to overshare, and I curse like a sailor if I'm not careful, but I'm smart and funny. I'll braid your hair and make you friendship bracelets. I deserve a book club, people I can call that I'm not directly related to or living with, someone who asks how I'm doing and genuinely cares.
Instead, I am completely alone. I have colleagues, all of whom already have friends, and a husband, who is nothing like the man I thought I married. And a computer. And a blog. Which at least 87 people a day visit and read, but only two or three usually comment on.
I deserve a high metabolism. I deserve to be able to eat anything and everything I want, all yummy things that are bad for me, and still be able to fit into my size 6 jeans. I deserve boobs, and an ass that doesn't jiggle when I walk.
Instead, I have to diet and give up everything that's any good because I don't have any money for even bigger pants.
I deserve to be happy.
And I'm not.
*Ok, that's me, but still.
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7 comments:
Though I am a person who tends to "overshare" as well, I have always been shy about leaving comments in a public place such as this (so this is my first time to leave a comment). But your blog speaks to me more than you might understand, as I find myself facing many of the same disappointments in my own life. I am also a teacher (my students are high-schoolers) married to a man who makes simple daily living much more difficult than necessary, and though I have only one child she requires the energy and attention of at least two. I wanted to thank you for putting your thoughts on this blog, as I have been checking in quietly for a while now. You help me feel a little less lonely every time I read it.
You do deserve better. Of course you do.
In my world, the problem is power. I feel powerless to change the things that make me feel trapped. But if the power's not mine, whose is it?
I have no idea, but if I figure it out, I'll let you know.
Thanks, CJ. It does help to know there are others like me out there.
And Julie, if you find the power, do share!
I'm a teacher, too, with two normal kids and a husband who drives me crazy. I read your blog because I relate very much to your feelings! I just wanted you to know.
I truly don't know what to say without sounding like a patronizing ass. I know it's hard to believe but I've had moments of darkness in my life where it just felt like I was destined to be miserable/stuck forever and it's embarrassing to me that the only way I got "through them" was to GET THROUGH THEM. I have no wise words, I wish I did but when things are just so goddamned circumstantial sometimes all you can do is hope and pray like hell that they change and just ride it out until they do. For me, in my times of desperation, it's rarely ever been anything that I've "done" to improve the situation. Things have just sort of passed or changed on their own (sometimes not even favorably but even that passes and changes). It's maddening and not at all comforting but seriously, sometimes -- actually, a lot of times -- it just happens that way. (Hope this makes sense)
If we were IRL friends, I'd so treat you to dinner and a mani/pedi. SOMETHING.
Thanks, guys. It's nice to know I'm not alone in the Universe.
this is a message from some one in New Zealand (see how far you reach people).I think you can survive this. In fact I am so confident I think you will be better in a few months. I have no answers but I do know that happiness is a choice, not a place or situation....if you choose to be happy you will find the universe responds....start making a list of what you want and visualise it and every day say outloud "I am abundantly happy" even when you don't feel it...keep saying it. You will get there...do not quit on us please.
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