I woke up this morning in something of a blue funk; I had hoped I would feel better for longer after getting home from Seattle, had hoped that the rest and relaxation I got would carry over into my real life for more than a day, but that hasn’t been the case. The house is still a crappy mess, the kids still fight all of the time, I still have some major financial issues that I am trying to address but is taking much longer than I thought; basically, it is still my life. Not that I thought it would somehow magically transform itself while I was gone, you know, but-I don’t know, I just thought I was in a better frame of mind and would be able to see things differently with some fresh perspective. Not so.
I am just so tired. We live in this really small, crappy house that is suddenly falling apart, and my landlady just doesn’t have the money to fix the things that are going wrong, so it just gets worse. I hate it, and we looked at another house yesterday after work, one with an extra bedroom and bathroom, but I just can’t swing it financially; not just the increase in rent, but the increased heating costs (it is a two-story older home). Which is why we have been stuck where we are, because it is more than I can afford to get into another place. Yes, I am on the waiting list for the Idaho Housing Authority, no, we don’t qualify for a low-income apartment (for those of you who are inevitably going to make suggestions, I have tried them all. Don’t qualify to even apply for Habitat for Humanity, cannot get a home loan, etc…). I went home last night and just felt so discouraged I wanted to sit down and cry; there are clothes in laundry baskets in one corner (my “closet”), books piled on every available surface, the closets (all three of them) are filled to overflowing, and we just don’t have any room. Therefore, the house never looks clean even if it is, and it makes me feel like shit that I can’t even really invite people over or anything because it looks so awful. I do what I can, but it just doesn’t seem to be enough.
I usually do pretty well with accepting that this is where things are, and I can only do so much to change things. In a general sense, I am maybe not wildly happy but am at least content, because things are better than they used to be, for sure. Right now, though, I just feel like a rodent on one of those wheels that run and run but never get anywhere; I have entertained more than once the idea of getting a second job, but then there are all of the repercussions of that, like not being able to be a parent, of having my 15 year old daughter assume the role of parent to the younger boys, which isn’t an option. Neither do we have an after-hours daycare in this area, so I couldn’t take Owen to a babysitter while I worked at night; which I wouldn’t want to do anyway, after having had him in daycare all day. Goes back to this thing called parenting, which I want to be able to do. So I stop and think about all of these things, and realize that even though on paper, a 2nd job makes sense, in real life it doesn’t. It would create more problems than it would solve, for sure. And none of this has to do with the house specifically, that is just the one tangible thing to focus on that make sense, you know?
I am so fucking tired of being alone, too. Yes, I have an amazing group of friends, yes, I have a lot of love in my life; I know this, and am continuously grateful. It just isn’t enough sometimes. I am so tired of being the only parent in my kids’ lives. I am tired of looking around me and seeing that everybody else seems to be doing it so much better than I am. I know all the right things to do; eat right, try to get enough sleep, let myself feel however it is I feel and then move on. I know well that it is better to be alone than in a shitty marriage or relationship. I know firsthand that me alone is better in SO many ways than some of the people I know who AREN’T alone; I know on a deep, elemental level that I provide for my kids some really, really important, life changing/affirming things. I know that. But knowing all of that doesn’t always help; it doesn’t change the fact that at the end of the day, I am still alone. I used to have this, I don’t know, vision? Dream? Whatever, about the kind of person I would be with, and let me tell you, that has changed dramatically; instead of a rich man who would take care of me and, by proxy, my kids, I just want someone who loves me. Who wants to be with me not for what I can give him or how good I can suck him off, but because he thinks I am something pretty special. It isn’t settling, it is just-different.
God. I am in kind of a bad way here. Maria was asking for donations awhile back for a new computer, and I am thinking about asking for donations for a life. This guy, has one for sale; any takers? Not really, but-I just don’t know anymore.
I need some love, guys. I need you to lie to me and tell me how great I am, how any guy would be so lucky to have me and Steve is stupid for not seeing that. I need you to tell me that I am not totally fucking up, and that things will somehow, some way, get better. If you are a believer in anything, send up a prayer for me. When you are done with that, head on over to see April, because she needs to feel the love, too.