Increasingly I find myself spiraling into a bad place. I sit on the bus thinking “Your pdoc’s card is in your wallet. Just reach in, find the card, and call. You need her-this is what she’s there for.”
But the blubbering and the hissy fit in my head refuse to listen, babble back at me that I’m being a baby, and I should just stop whining, chin up, and soldier on.
I have no where to collapse with this, no arms to rely on, no voice to tell me it will be better. I’m right fucking back there, this place I despise and was told to spurn, you know the one. The time out rug in the corner at alone. I didn’t see a future colored like this, where I had to throw back to the me I saw at 17, only this time she had kids and a mortgage and she’s fucking terrified of all of it! and wants to leap up onto an offramp, stick out a thumb and make for Mexico. Or worse, I hear the swan song of voice which has tempted in the past, and lo, as much of an easy route that may seem, it’s not, but it’s tiring and depressing fending off it’s rude advances all the time.
Over and over two things play in my head.
This isn’t my life.
Fuck me, I hate this life.
I don’t want to be alone. I never wanted to be alone again, and yet here I sit. I’m so fucking scared of the weakness invading, of a slip, a fall, something in my head knocking itself over and ruining me. I can hardly cry anymore because everything has been so blunted that it’s merged into one horrifying numbness, made worse by the fact that only I feel it’s pain. How awful to be scorned, but worse for the other to feel nothing but pleasure in release. What a horrid fool I really was in thinking I couldn’t be alone.
I have no one. I really and truly have no one, stupidly moving to a province with nothing, relying on a father who will just as surely leave as he comes, as he pleases. Nothing but me and two daughters who need me to find strength where I don’t believe any is left.
I don’t want to crawl from my bed in the morning. There’s nothing to face that isn’t horrid. A life full of nothing, alone, dreams destroyed.
I’m so tired of this. What am I doing so wrong that everything needs to fall apart every few years? Why is there nothing I can’t destroy?