Monday, September 7, 2009

Stranger in a Strange Land (9.07.09)

Nation...where do I belong? I'm alone in a crowded room, my husbnad wants nothing to do with me - unless he can be telling me how much his life sucks because he doesn't have a license.

Even writing those words I can feel my throat tightening and the tears coming. How many times can you listen to someone say the same thing over and over, and with the same amount of resentment? Am I supposed to pretend that this is news to me? I can't fake interest anymore. We've done all we can; short of a pardon from the governor, I cannot think of anything.

I always drive when we go anywhere, which generally I do not mind. But for god's sake don't resent me because you can't drive. Don't refuse appointments because you can't drive yourself there. Why am I always at the receiving end of the blast?

I feel as fragile as a snowflake, and just one more screaming match will just melt me away. Thoughts of death are always near - but never by my own hand oddly enough. I just want to BE dead; that's not suicidal right? I briefly pictured myself in a hospital, but they won't leave me alone there to just be; they'd want me in some structured day room playing with blocks.

I never feel welcome in my own home; all I do is cry for everything that I am not. I'm totally ungrateful and wish I was anywhere but here.

I want to just disappear, thereby not leaving a mess for anyone to have to clean up. Just want to have never been born. Nothing to offer to anyone, even though I try sometimes. I want to vomit every time I see myself in a mirror. My fucking life is a joke.

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