I don't even know where to begin. I'm just irritated. Same old thing, so there's nothing to say. I want someone who can have a conversation with me and spend time with me. See? Nothing new. Blah, blah, blah.
Mother's Day still makes me uncomfortable. It's hard to have your mom tell you she hates Mother's Day and doesn't feel appreciated. How we should be appreciative more than this one day a year. It wasn't the only time we were told how selfish and unappreciative we were. We heard it a lot. But Mother's Day was worst of all, and Mom was almost always depressed. I dreaded it, and I still do. I always end up feeling ungrateful and a burden. It makes it hard for me to enjoy my own Mother's Day, even though I'm really happy being a mom.
There's also the fact John never seems to care very much, just like with anything. He does with me as he would want for himself--to be left alone to do whatever. He doesn't think about what I would want. He wants me to tell him everything, like always, because he just can't take the reigns for one day. I've told him several years that I don't want to decide anything, to no avail.
John wanted to take me to Cirque du Soleil, which is something I would like, but I told him he didn't have to do that. I would rather be financially OK than go. But that doesn't solve the problem, even if we had gone. The rest of the day would still be the same. In fact, it would be worse, because then he would be saying, "Well, I took you to Cirque." He does one thing and expects it to last, not just all day, but probably for the whole week.
I'm cold and tired and hungry. I really want some movie theater popcorn with butter, but I should have said something before John went out. Nothing else sounds good. This sucks.
And I'm running tomorrow after slacking after being sick. That should be just great. I hope I don't make a complete fool out of myself.
10:18 p.m. - Dominos
Just one thing after another. It snowballs because I never get resolution, and he avoids things, hoping they'll go away while getting more and more defensive. He just has no clue. No matter how many times I tell him, it doesn't change. He lives his life on autopilot. Never change course. Stay away from conflickt. Evade when necessary.
I'm ready to go to bed. I don't really even want to do this race anymore. I don't want to do anything. But I have to stay up and do the freakin' laundry because nobody thinks to help me out when I'm sick. My chores never get done. They just pile up until I'm better. But when John is sick, dishes and trash get done. It gets done better then than when he's not sock. I wonder how in the world I haven't gone insane by now.
I just want him to care about me. Not inside his head where it's completely useless. I want him to take care of me, not just bring home a paycheck. I want to be more than someone who washes his clothes, takes care of his kids, takes up his slack when he can't manage to load a fucking dishwasher.
I feel shitty inside and out, exhibited well through my declining vocabulary. I get so frustrated that I can't even think. And I don't know how else to say how I feel and what I need and why. Nothing works. Nothing. Nothing, nothing, nothing. And I know that, but I keep hoping, like a faithful dog. I keep coming back... hell, I don't even leave so that I could come back. I'm that fucking stupid.
I need to pick a path and go with it. I need to do what I have to do to get in school and move on with my life. I am clearly not going to get what I need emotionally, so I have to move on. Do something. Just about anything.
Getting some order would be good too. I'll just have to do every-fucking-thing because he isn't interested. Hammy said he'd help me with the yard. I'm sure he would help me with other things too. He's a better companion to me. I have to watch out for that though, not putting too much pressure on him. I don't want to ruin his life. It's good for us to do things though. And he can really help me crawl out from under this heap of a house.
I don't want to sleep with John tonight. He's out there watching the race, ignoring me as usual. Hammy went to bed, which was John's excuse to be out there before. Now I'm sure it's "I don't know what to say/do." Whatever. He can "not know" by himself tonight. It will be easier to finish laundry if I'm downstairs anyway.
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One Year Ago Today:
