Who are you…
I know I should write even when I’m feeling terrible. Probably especially when I’m feeling terrible. But I’m only now coming up with proper motivation, and only barely at that. I’ve just had a simply awful past few days up in the brain pan.
It started with the general feeling that I’ve become my own kids babysitter. Every passing week I feel less and less like I’m actually raising her. It’s like we just hang out for a few hours every weekend, and then she goes back to her “real life.” That’s just sublimely depressing. See, I spent the better part of the last year trying my best to keep my head above water so I could get my family back together (we were separated by circumstance at that point, not actually separated), and now the dynamic has changed so that I will, pretty much, always be on the outside looking in.
And that was made even worse on Sunday. Which was my daughter’s 7th birthday.
I didn’t see her blow out any candles. I didn’t even see the cake.
I didn’t see her open a single present. I couldn’t even afford to give her one. One of my roomies was nice enough to give me a few bucks for a dinner (she wanted lo mein, so she got lo mein), but that was it.
I had to hear second hand about not only what she got, but how she reacted. I was deeply affected by not being involved in the slightest, because I realized: that’s how things are going to be now. And that’s not even factoring in a possible transition! Who the hell knows what the dynamic is going to be after that.
Part of me wants to run. When I’m done my current certification course program, start applying for jobs well out of town. I’ve kind of wanted to get away from here for awhile, I was just sort of hoping to do so with my family. Now, I can run and feel like the distance that will grow between me and her will be justified. Of course I know that’s just bullshit, but at the same time, its grounded in a pebble of reality that I can’t simply ignore.
I can’t ignore it, but I sure wish I could. Because it’s depressing the ever loving shit out of me. The really bad kind of depressed, the stuff you see in the commercials. Not wanting to get out of bed, or engage in just about anything.
Luckily for me, I have a very “well, fuck you very much!” attitude. Even when it’s myself. So I drag myself up and force myself out of comfort zones that much more. Which is why I decided today I’m gonna start wearing eye shadow on at least a somewhat regular basis. It’s subtle (just from a basic nude kit), but it’s there, and I know its there. And I’m sure someone who looks close enough will also notice it, and they’ll be forced to deal with it being there as well. I’m not just looking for validation, I’m almost inviting confrontation.
Probably not the greatest idea in the world, but it’s better than laying in bed, curled up in to a ball and weeping. Which I have done recently as well.
At this point, I really can’t wait for my therapy appointment coming up on Monday (the first one went well, but was mostly intake, and my therapist wasn’t in the office this week). I need that shit.