I don’t have anything to say today that isn’t going to start some kind of a conflict, which really fucking pisses me off-which by saying so out loud just creates more conflict, which in turn makes me angrier. So I am just going to go all out here and get it off my chest and let the chips fall where they may. So be it. This is not just about the whole post-that-I-deleted-yesterday thing, though it has a small something to do with it, and hey guys, I refuse to mention names, I refuse to get into the whole he-said-she-said blah fuckety blah shit. Here is my disclaimer, one that should NEVER be necessary on a blog but whatever: This blog is my opinion. I write about my life and my thoughts and the things going on in my life. I do not delete or reject comments unless they are by crazy Patrick-the-Anti-AA-Guy or may otherwise hurt me or my readers. The use of the rods “you,” “they,” “yours” are all collectively meant and not directed at any one person in particular. The reason for this post may or may not become clear, but it will serve it’s purpose for me.
Just because Steve and I have sex on occasion and went away for one night does not make me any less alone, nor does it make me any less of a single parent. I am doing 95% of the raising of his son, in addition to raising three other children, on less than one income. I still go to bed alone 99.9% of the time, unless my bed companion is of the four-legged variety. I do all of the work, believe me, and when I talk about making arrangements to take my suicidal daughter to the BHC or to go somewhere overnight, Steve is never about whom I am speaking. In this respect, I am no different than every other single mom in the world who goes on dates and, yes, occasionally gets laid. I just happen to love the guy I am fucking; that does not mean we are “together” in any real sense of the word. I do the work, I get up with sick kids and I did this move on my own, with the help of a few friends. The fact that I should even have to defend myself in the single mom world makes me sick. The mommy wars? Jebus, I thought we were above all of that, especially in this single-mom world; little did I know that there are as many definitions for “single” as there are for “family,” and apparently I don’t meet that definition for some of you. So be it. Until and unless I have a wedding ring on my finger and a joint checking account and fucking everyday backup, I am single and alone. Deal with it.
I am no longer going to sit back and let anyone make me feel like shit because of the whole Christmas gift thing. I am well and truly sorry that some of you had awful Christmases yourselves, I really am-because I well know how much it sucks to be poor and not be able to give your kids ANYTHING, much less everything. I really and truly do get that. However undeserving any of you may have thought I was/am, my kids aren’t. I would have gladly passed on some of the things we received had I only known that you were also truly struggling in that area.
I have very strong opinions, and I have gotten into the terrible habit of filtering them in order to not stomp on anyones toes. That is the one bad thing about blogging; intent does not come across in words all of the time, and I know I HAVE stomped on a few toes, though not deliberately. If you know me at all, and those of you who are regular readers DO know this, I can be a real bitch. I call them as I see them, I try not to hold back for fear of what people will think of me, blah blah blah. I DO filter myself when commenting, though, because I don’t want to hurt someones feelings. By the same token, you can comment all you want about what you don’t like about me or my opinion, and I won’t delete them simply because my feelings might be hurt. I will, however, address said hurt feelings and/or anger to you directly in an email if I think it is something I need to get off my chest or maybe to clear up a misconception. I am sorry in advance if any of you do not like this directness; take it or leave it. I would be stupid and naive if I whistled around the world with my head in the clouds thinking “oh, yay! everyone loves me!” so unless it is something I feel VERY strongly about, I most likely won’t respond at all.
If you need help from me, just ask for it. This goes from needing a shoulder to cry on, a listening ear, a safe person to vent to, whatever. I will give advice if asked, I will cook you dinner or come clean your bathroom or watch your kids (Well-except YOURS, because she is frankly a pain in my ass) if you need to run to the grocery store to get a gallon of milk without toting them all over hell and back. I will listen to you rant about your boyfriend/girlfriend/lover/dog. If I can’t give you money for groceries, I will try to find someone who can or I will clean out my own cupboards to see if we can’t scrape up enough to get you through. What I will NOT do is pretend that I agree with every decision you make, and if I see something that seems wonky, I will tell you. If you are ogling the guy next door through the open drapes while whacking off your husband, I might tell you that I support and love you no matter what decision you make but that it might be better for your marriage if you closed the curtains. What I am saying is this: I don’t give a rat’s ass what you do, who you do it with, or why; I don’t care what strange little rituals you might have, or what your religious/spiritual/sexual beliefs are. If I see you doing something that may hurt you, I am going to tell you. If you see me doing something similar, please tell me. But don’t expect me to get hints or read between the lines or follow you around asking if you are okay all of the time. I pretty much suck at that, and besides it isn’t my job. Now, I am not talking about just blithely going on about my way and pretending that I haven’t noticed if you haven’t been yourself lately; I WILL ask. But unless you are someone I see or talk to on a daily basis, especially in blog land, it might take me a while to notice. So if you are feeling neglected, please tell me-in real life or otherwise.
I am a bitch; I know that. I can be really hard to get along with, and I have a very forceful personality. I tend to be self-centered and get caught up in my own life and goings on and don’t pay as much attention, maybe, to everyone I should. I can also easily bowl you over
with sheer stubbornness if I think I am right; we all, I think, have that tendency sometimes. But I can promise you that I usually get to the point where I can think it through, and if I am wrong, I really try hard to admit that. I can also promise that you will get from me honesty and loyalty and abiding friendship, even if you sometimes don’t like what I have to say-because I love you that much. But I am done pussyfooting around my blog and my LIFE, filtering my thoughts and opinions and beliefs in order to please someone else. At the end of the day, the only person I get to crawl in bed with is me, and I better like myself well enough to stand that. If I keep on pushing my own self down, I am not going to have much respect for myself in the morning, am I?