Saturday, July 20, 2013

Afloat and Adrift

I don't know how to describe how I feel. Left out of life, maybe? Stuck in a rut? Dissatisfied? All I know is that there is something going on again, and my biggest clues are hiding out in my room with music plugged into my ear, and random weepiness. I think I'm pissed about something, but even I can tell it's not proportional... What is the real issue? What is making me feel like I want to chuck it all (again)?

Sometimes I stand in the middle of my bedroom and look at everything around me, imagining throwing it all out the window and living with nothing except a bed and some clothes. Of course I would have to become anti-social because I would never show myself dressed in rags.

It kinda makes sense because the very appealing image in my head is that of a dark cave that no one enters unless they are invited in. It is a cave deep inside a mountain. It is quiet and safe, and there is a small spring of water inside. The water is the only noise that will keep me company. Gentle ripples and soft, slow drips, just enough noise to keep me company without disturbing my silence.

I sometimes think that without Facebook, I would have zero friends by now. I have stopped reaching out to friends. It's hard to do that now when I have no money to spare for "luxuries". So I'm just cutting it all off. The consequence here is that I spend more time with the BF's friends, more than my own. The little time I spend "out" is with someone else's friends. I think I just figured out that this is what is giving me a floating feeling.

Is this what it feels like to be afloat without an anchor? No friends to remind you that you are an adult with consequence? Peers who care and love simply? My children should be my anchor, but they feel more like my companions in a life raft. Why a life raft? Because my entire life feels like an emergency situation after a grand, sinking disaster.

The little things that happen to make me happy are just illusions. When you strip it down to what it is, my life is, in fact, an emergency situation. All I'm managing to do is stay afloat and alive for my kids. If it were just me, I would just lie down and let the sun burn me to oblivion.


Monday, July 8, 2013

Broke and Broken

Here I am again, broke as fuck. I don't know how I keep myself in this situation, but I honestly feel like I'm frozen in time. I can't move, I can't change. I have no idea what to do. I have no vision of the future. All I see is me scraping by, day by day, until I die.

I don't know what I'm waiting for, maybe it has to come to a point where I have less than nothing. I can't even admit to myself how desperate the situation is because there's always that (good or bad?) little voice in my head that soothes me into inaction... "Just wait, something good will happen. Someone will help you, someone will save you from yourself."

I try to introspect, because the truth of the matter is, I've been barely surviving for the longest time and I can't see why I sabotage myself. I know I'm lazy, but I also have some pride. But it's a bad combination because this is what makes me hide. I cannot talk about my financial problems because I am deeply ashamed. Instead, I blame everything else outside of me: Lack of business, too much expenses of the kids, stuff breaking down, staff problems, and ultimately, the death of Cyril.

The feeling that keeps me heavy is anger and resentment. I DID NOT ASK FOR THIS. I am not prepared to be a single mom of three. How can I be expected to take care of four people when I can barely care for myself? I don't know a single person like me and it's so unfair. I don't have the tools, I wasn't taught anything about survival in the real world. I can't wrap my head around it, even now, five years later.

Most days I can bury my head in the sand, but when shit hits the fan (aka 'broke as fuck'), it floods my brain. I feel like a loser but at the same time, I blame the world. I can't get past my personal barriers. I cannot succeed until I hurdle my emotional obstacles.

The irony is that I need money to do this. Therapy is the only way to get clarity. No amount of prayer is enough. Sometimes I feel like praying is just like me and my mind pretending to figure things out, when actually, it's just the blind leading the blind.

I just want to crawl into bed and die. I'm not afraid to die, you know. The only thing that would break my heart is having the boys suffer inside. And so I try, because I don't want them to be unprepared for their lives. I keep up the facade so they feel safe. If they only knew.