Phew.

I vented, and I feel better.
I feel better without having hurt any one's feelings.
Today, I am having one of those days that is good for no particular reason. I think it may be related to the fact that I let things out of my head. Maybe it is related to the forgiveness. Maybe it's the fact that my life, while not extravagant, is good. I have love.
That's good enough.

Help

This has quickly just become my place to come and vent. The closest thing I have to a friendly ear, these days.

I'm angry, perhaps more than I should be under these circumstances. I know I have rage issues, that sometimes I just stew and stew until I explode. I know it's wrong, and cruel to those who love me, but at the same time, it's the only way I know how to deal with anger.

When I ask for help, don't agree, then play video games until you fall asleep at your desk. If I ask for help doing half of the dishes, don't ask me how many I want you to do. Just eyeball it. If you volunteer to do all of the dishes, don't leave stuff on the stove, or the counter. If I get up with you every morning because I love you enough to want to help you have a good start to your day, don't leave me seething at night so that I can't focus on any of the tasks I am left with and unable to sleep.

When I obviously want to yell and scream, either give me a reason to, or give me a reason to not want to. Don't leave me seething, because I will go to bed angry and wake up angrier. When I tell you I'm not feeling well, and sleeping entirely too much, don't expect me to just go about doing all of the chores while you relax after a day at work. Especially when said day at work is commonly so boring and lackadaisical that you hide in the bathroom to play sudoku.

It takes more thank "Thank you for making breakfast," and "Thank you for making dinner" to show appreciation. I know that's more than a lot of people get, but I have also gotten more from you. If you are going to start slipping into shitty habits, don't get pissy when I stop folding the laundry as soon as it comes out of the dryer.

I'm really trying. I'm really trying not to backslide into being a miserable person who doesn't care if they have a sink full of dishes for two days. I have come so far, and I don't want to backslide, so stop giving me reasons to.

Letting it go.

A friend of mine suggested that in order to deal with all of my problems, that I should write them down and put them in a God Box. You write down your problems, and give them to God. I don't know if I am comfortable with that, but I do think I can write them down. I can give them to you, and let them be gone.

I'm angry. I'm angry that my (very nearly) ex-husband is stonewalling me about the money he owes me. I'm angry that he left and is getting to live the easy life. I'm angry that he hurt me for so many years, and that I am still letting him treat me like shit.
I'm angry that my boyfriend doesn't talk to his father the way his father wants them to talk. I'm angry that every day I have to explain to his father why he hates his job.
I'm angry that I didn't fight for my job, that I let one ego maniacal ass ruin my career.

I'm frustrated. I'm frustrated at having to prop up the man I love every single day. I am frustrated that my strength is waning from constant use. I'm frustrated by the fact that I can't seem to catch a break. I'm frustrated that I don't know how to get the exercise I need for my mental well-being out here in the wilderness. I'm frustrated by the fact that I so easily accept my own excuses. I'm frustrated by the fact that one of my hard drives failed, and I have so many pieces of my life that I didn't back up, pictures of times that I will never recover.

I'm jealous. I'm jealous of all the people who can afford a festive Christmas this year. I am jealous of all the people who can go out and buy presents for their loved ones. I'm jealous of everyone who can get in their cars, and go. I'm jealous of all the people who have the successes I denied for myself.

I'm sad. Some part of me, no matter how small is always sad.

I'm happy. I have a best friend and lover who adores me. I have a son who even at nine years old loves to snuggle with me and watch a movie. I have a father who loves me, and wants the best for me, no matter how aggravating he can be. I have a home to live in, and food to eat. I have friends, even if they are all on the other side of a computer screen. I have love.

---

I think my friend may have been right.

Unease.

Bioguy has another son.
---

A few months ago, I got a message from a girl on myspace, claiming she was pregnant with another spawn for Bioguy. I kind of shook it off, as she was pretty trashy. I sent her the info she asked for, and left it at that.

I would peek back at her page on occasion, to see if she had the baby and whatnot. When she did, well, it looked like Darth Boy, a lot. I tried to reason it out of possibility. I mean, Bioguy isn't doing anything for Darth Boy, so surely he has learned his lesson right?

Wrong.

Now there are two boys who are never going to have a proper father, and while that is plenty sad, I'm sitting here jealous.
Jealous because my son finally has the brother he has been begging me for, and it's not a son of mine.

Just... ugh.

It is the wrong hour for anything...

I'm sitting here, having all of these feelings that feel inappropriate to share with people on facebook, or my old livejournal, and I feel like I have nowhere to go. Then I find myself on a blog where I have left comments, that linked back here. It was almost like a sign, reminding me that I did have a place, a place where no one would ask me about what I said (because no one reads this, heh.)

I have this incredible feeling of dread, and I don't know what started it. It's happened before, usually spun off of depression, but I don't really show any other signs of depression. (Okay, maybe the fact that I am writing this at almost 6 in the morning defies that statement.)

I just don't know what to do. I'm not particularly upset over anything, and there hasn't been a major upset in my life. I need to understand, because when I don't, these feelings just suck me in. I don't want to drown, despair is no longer a major part in my life, and I don't want it to be.

So many things are right in my life at this moment. So many things are full of happiness. So why aren't I?

Let's just call it all off, shall we?

As much as I wanted to cancel the 24th, it seems the next day is where things got truly disgusting.

So, do we remember how I mentioned that the boyfriend broke his finger on the job? Well, he did. Then they fired him. Supposedly it was because the whole thing was a safety issue, but who in the world is going to turn off something they're not working on so that they can work on the thing they did turn off? Ugh.

So now he's out of work, and he can't get something new until after the surgery to repair his finger, and the necessary healing period. FUN.

Now it's just after three in the morning, and he's going to be up in three hours for a slew of doctor visits. Unfortunately this week I won't be going with him, because the first one is earlier than I'd like to wake up Darth Boy for.

Oh, also, about five hours ago, I broke my damned glasses. That's the second pair in about six months. Yay me!

Not a morning person.

Today is cancelled.
July 24th and I are no longer on speaking terms, and it's only a quarter to six in the morning.

It's a two pot of coffee kind of day, which doesn't mean the same for me as it does for most people. You see, I only really drink a cup of coffee every now and then, and today I won't be drinking any. It's a two pot kind of day, because the first pot game out full of grounds.

Please, oh please, let everything go up from here.

Strength

I started writing this post in my head while my boyfriend was being X-Ray-ed at the Orthopaedist this afternoon. Last weekend he broke one of his knuckles on a conveyor at work. I've spent the days between trying to reassure him. He's the kind of guy who worries endlessly, afraid that he'll lose his job. He's very emotional, and it can be hard to talk him down out of his emotional tree sometimes. I hate doctors, and have had to sit in two waiting rooms this week, watching him deal with snarly receptionists, and seeing the defeat in his eyes. He's not the kind of person to just take things easy, and having even just that one finger out of commission is driving him batty, and in turn, driving me batty. I know I can't do any more for him than I already am, but now we both feel useless.

After today's appointment, it turns out he needs surgery to repair the break, and he is devastated. I'm not the optimistic sort, but right now I have to be. He's worrying and I am having to fight any worries I have. It's not a big deal, just a little work to make sure things heal, but he acts like he's going to lose his finger, and I am having to support him. Alone. It's times like this that I wish we had more of a social network, people who could listen to me talk about what is happening, and people he could talk to so that I wasn't his only friendly ear.