My heart hurts.
For all kinds of reasons.
I look at my life – and I see a pattern.
Me, taking care of people – caring about people – doing all I can for them —
Then having those people shit on me.
I made a list of it today for a friend. It went back too far.
I changed the subject in the end.
Years ago, a good friend commented to me that I didn’t need what others did. I was strong. I was able. I did not need kid gloves like…..then he inserted a name, then another, then another.
I read a post on social media that someone made one day.
“Some people when they get frustrated that their needs are not being met, they act out. Don’t do that – just ask for what you need.”
I shook my head.
Asking for what I needed has only ever gotten me called needy. Gotten me called selfish. Gotten me called all of these bad things that I try to block out. Asking for what I needed was met with such a negative response that I stopped asking. I mastered the response of “what are you in the mood for?” even when deep down inside I knew what I wanted – what I needed.
I am a great juggler. I juggle a life of professional and wife and mom and pet owner and daughter and sister and friend. I juggle needs. Mom needs me to listen. I listen. Dad needs to vent. I listen. Brother needs money. I send it. Other brother needs advice. I give it. Kids need driving around. I drive. Husband needs time to focus on other things. I pick up the slack. Friend needs something. I give it.
I need something? I have learned to accept I won’t get it. I shove it aside. I stomp it down. I have learned to accept it is not mine to have.
I had someone call me a martyr once on my blog. A comment no one saw. After going back and forth, I said fuck it and delete it.
I told G the other night that I feel like this is my universal punishment. My punishment for my choices. My choice to work hard to escape. My choice to love hard. My choice to have kids. My choice to care. My choice to….I don’t even know anymore.
The Iowan voice in me says “You made your bed, now lie in it.”
Another voice counts down the year until my kids are gone.
Another asks “when will it be time for you”
And another answers, “who fucking knows – never?”
I try to be this strong person people believe I am.
But I’m no longer her.
G the other night asked if my life wasn’t more fuller because I was no longer her. I let light in where the old her did not. I told him to ask me during a time when I don’t ache. I know my answer now would not be good. I am not in a space to give a good answer.
I have said it before but I truly feel it today.
I told DJ the other day that I did not want her to ever feel trapped. “Go do the things you are scared to do. Go do the things you want – don’t ever feel like I am not in your corner. I am. Don’t feel like you have to take care of me -or your dad – just go do your thing. Find your happy.”
I guess sometimes I feel I must save my kids from my life……let them live since I am not meant to.