I wrote this back in September. But, like most things, it's hard to talk about them when they are happening. It is much easier to talk about trials after they have happened and you and know everything works out ok. That there is a 'happy ending' to cushion all the hurt that was happening. So. This is it. This is the beginning to my ending.
****************************
I am such an idiot. So, so, so stupid. I want to break things. I want to scream. I want to pull everything out of the pantry and throw it at the wall and let it fall. Let it make a mess. It would only scratch the surface of what I am feeling. A physical mess to represent the emotional mess that I am inside.
It's like I have woken up to my 'life' and I hate it. I hate this small apartment most of all. I hate that my husband can't make a decision and go with it. I hate when the kitchen is messy. It's now 5:00 a.m. and I have been up for the past 2 hours. My mind won't stop. I can't stop thinking about what I can do to change my situation that I find myself in and the hopeless feeling that brings because there isn't a whole lot.
Things have slowly been getting worse and worse. We've needed counseling for years, but it was just easier to not address the subject. The subject of a marriage falling apart. And why not.
It started with the two of us arguing about money. Which, of course, who doesn't. But it was bad. I am trying so hard to save for a house and am getting zero support in that. For the longest time I was making ends meet with the money that I was able to make by subbing, doing orders, dove releases, whatever it was. And that was fine. Because it kept us from talking about money. I was able to get nice clothes for the kids. Which is important to me. And things for our home, which was also important because it made me feel like 'this is mine.' But I wasn't able to save for a house. Not at all.
And then, we started doing foster care. And it's not a whole lot that you get from that. It's a reimbursement of taking care of an extra child. And believe me. It is especially not a lot for that first month where you are starting from scratch. New clothes, special food, in our last case, bed sheets and spreads and pillows and pillow cases. It all added up fast. But after a few months when things settle, it finally breaks even and yeah, that little bit of money was enough to take the edge off of things. I was able to seriously put away some money for a house. And I still didn't need to talk to Steven about money because I had what I was making to use for kid stuff. I didn't need to ask if we had money for new clothes. Or for birthdays. I just used what I knew I had. And then what I got from fostering, that I could put away into savings.
I hate to be the nagging one. It's not in my nature - so I let Steven do what he would with our future. And now. I see that he has crapped all over that. I should have taken a more active role in that. Even though, seriously thinking about, there's nothing more I could have done. Nothing more he would have let me done. But what happened is that I was so busy and preoccupied with fostering and taking care of those kids and taking care of our kids that I feel like I just woke up this past month and realized what a mess of life I am in right now. My purpose has been stripped because of there being no more bed space. Which wraps around to no room for what I want to do. Which wraps even tighter and I can't even put groceries away because there's no room. Things are forever spilling out of cupboards when I try to add one more thing. Getting craft supplies out for young womens is a nightmare. Putting them away, even worse. There is no easy place for things to go. Which is what drives me the most crazy. I know that an orderly house has to have a 'home for everything' - a place where you can count on it going. And you know what? My pillow cases and sheets for the kids are constantly changing places because sometimes there's room where they need to go, and sometimes there's not. It depends on how hard I want to work at getting them into their spot. So then, when I go to look for sheets, I have to look three different places before finding them. It's irritating.
So, now I wake up from my trance. Look up from the hard work that I have been doing with these extra kids and I realize I am definitely not where I want to be in life. I want to be doing more - and right now that is not even possible because of my physical living situation. Things were fine a month ago. And now that we have a baby and had to give up the placement that we had because of our 'no room' issue - I am furious. I am ticked off all the time.
Right now I am in an apartment that is too small for my dreams and ambitions. I am in a relationship that I can't even take seriously. There is no light coming from any angle about this situation being changed anytime within the next 6 months. And I am done. This apartment was supposed to be temporary. Alaska wasn't supposed to go to kindergarten here. We were supposed to be moved by then. All the goals that I thought we had have been drowned down the toilet and now we're just in the motion of making it work, day to day, rather than focusing on a future.
I was done 6 months ago. In January I gave Steven the ultimatum about getting on the promotion list or moving to my parents house. I wasn't going to stand for it anymore. So he got on the promotion list. And I was able to keep doing what I was doing. And I was sick. So sick. This pregnancy was a really hard one for me. I went straight from being sick and hurling multiple times a day to being so tired. So, so tired. But I pushed through. Because things were supposed to be changing for us.
And then they didn't. And they haven't. And it's not even because opportunity hasn't come up. Apparently it has, and Steven just hasn't taken it. Which is infuriating. It drives me crazy and just makes me want to scream all over again, even as I write this. The hurt and betrayal that I felt when he told me that was so real. So powerful. So debilitating. I thought the plan was to promote. And to do that asap. So I was patiently biding my time. Doing what I could while I waited. And then, come to find out, all my waiting was in vain. It's not going to happen. In fact, he had seen openings and hadn't taken them. My patience had been taken for granted.
And Alaska is going to be starting school and I am stuck in a place that is too small for me to even function. Baby stuff is all over the place. I don't know what changed. No. I do. If I were a happy person with who I am right now - then sure, what's another two years in this apartment. But I am not happy with who I am right now. I want to continue to grow and be better. And I see this two bedroom, small apartment as an obstacle to that. There isn't enough room for life here. Life just comes with things. It comes with blankets. It comes with more dishes. It comes with bigger bodies that need more dresser space for their clothes. It comes with bigger bodies that need bigger beds. And right now there isn't room for progression. It's stagnant. It was supposed to be temporary. It was supposed to be temporary. I don't even have room to put up photos or momentos or anything that says, 'hey, we've been here awhile.'
We are living in a white trash apartment. Not because it is trashy - but because everyone around us is not going anywhere in life. They are stuck. And I am stuck. I am no longer waiting for the big promotion or the big what's next. This is it. And that feels crappy. I should have realized that sooner. Before my patience was all the way out. But it's out now. And now I've got to make a decision about what I am going to do about it.
No comments:
Post a Comment