Tuesday, September 11, 2012

Woe is me

My laptop broke. Just plain died. It should be fixed in a few days and hopefully won't cost me anything - it is under warranty. So, my husband came home, spent time with the kids, then came upstairs, to where I am now... to go online.
10:30 rolls around and I decide to go to bed. I am in some really bad pain (I know, redundant) because I totally cleaned up the front of the house today. Swept all the leaves away, cleaned out the truck so my husband can take it tomorrow - and I was so proud because I could do that - an KNOW it will not start smelling like smoke again. He has still not smoked - 7 days now... and I am so proud of him.
Anyway... around 11:30 he comes to bed.
"Did your mother say anything about going back to Texas?" "No." I said.
"Well, she is acting like she wants too, right?" "I don't know." I said.
"Well, she is your mother, can't you 'read' her?" He pushes... "Not really, she is hard to read like that" I said, getting irritated. Why can't he be telling me how happy he is I got the front of the house cleaned up? Why does he have to make the last things I hear before bed stressful.
"So, you 'have' to take your brother to cash his check in the morning?" Here we go... more stress. "I don't HAVE to do anything. I told him it would be later in the afternoon."
"You never used to be so cranky before bed. Marriage looks good on you." He so proudly proclaimed as he turned over. You know, those wonderful sharp words people will throw out there to try to cut you to pieces with. My husband is very good at doing it when I REALLY want to just forget how much pain I am in and GO to SLEEP.
I suppose marriage does "look" good on me. Here I sit - with tears in my eyes, hating the barely recognizable face I see in the mirror. Who is she? She is this horrible looking version of the person I used to be. She needs to lose  70 lbs. She has these horrible fat cheeks, more and more noticeable wrinkles have begun stretching out from her puffy eyes... those cheek bones she used to be so proud of are only a memory, along with any 'definition' in her face. She loathes her fat chin more and more each day.
So he picked the perfect insult. I turned over, and started to cry. I could not even feel angry, just sad and alone. I don't want to feel this way. I am trying so hard to get back to the person I used to be. I have this horrible constant pain that he just does not understand constantly running through me. (Sometimes I wonder if he even believes me.) I was already in such bad shape tonight. Something as stupid as sweeping leaves. FUCKING SWEEPING LEAVES had me hurting so much I just wanted to put my head in my hands and cry. But I was proud, and happy I had gotten it done. And he had barely noticed. I cleaned spots in the house today that had been so neglected for too long.
I want so badly to go crawl into my daughter's bed right now, to snuggle up to her and get some good sleep. She would throw her arm over me and cuddle right up. I know this. She may not tell me she loves me - but she certainly knows how to show it. But I can't do that either - she is actually sleeping at night these days - that could mess that up for weeks.
So I will go crawl back into my bed - and silently suffer with my pain, really just wanting a hug.
And the pain means nothing. I don't get to take a day off of life because I hurt. Nobody gives a shit if pain shoots down my leg when I stand up to chase my son down because he is terrorizing his sister with something. I still have to do it. But no one is going to give me a medal. No one is even going to acknowledge it is sometimes a major thing for me to do it - because everyone would rather me just shut the hell up so they can pretend I don't hurt. Or I am 'exaggerating.' I can feel it right now - like a circular saw cutting right into my hip joint. Sending ants with needles on their backs racing down the back of my leg, into my toes. But it really doesn't matter. I have shit to do whether I hurt or not.
So... tomorrow I will get up with a smile on my face. Possibly a fake one. And I will work out - because I don't want to loathe the reflection in the mirror anymore. And I will shower. And I will get my baby girl out of bed, and get her ready for school. (Hopefully in this order, or maybe I will workout and shower once I am back from taking her to school.) And I will police everything for gluten she touches. And I will see our Chiropractor with a smile on my face, and take her to school. I will come home, play taxi for my ungrateful brother. I will play with my adorable son. I will hopefully finish raking the front yard - and hopefully meet the computer guy to fix the laptop. Then I will get my baby girl from school, and come home to watch my babies argue with each other, until I 'have' to play taxi for my mother. Then maybe my husband will agree to let us meet him and my step-daughter for dinner, so I can avoid cooking it.
And I will do it all, in excruciating pain - that only I understand. And that makes me feel so, very lonely sometimes.

12:32 a.m.

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