That sinking feeling...
Yeah. So I was up earlier and even though I'm still very happy about that particular situation, my home life is "unsatisfying".
My dad wants to retire. My dependence on him is an obstacle to that happening. He's wanting to leave here, travel for the rest of his life, and not have to work anymore. He deserves all these things. He's sixty one years old and he's been working and supporting people around him all his life.
Unfortunately for him, I have yet to find a way to survive in this goddamn place without at least a four year degree. Had I been "on task" when I graduated high school I would already have a degree and a career.
Now I'm fighting to get out of his way and he keeps reminding me that he's "outta here in three and a half years". So when he leaves in 2006 I'm S.O.L. unless I can support us. That's fair enough. Why should he support me any longer? I'm almost 25 years old.
...Trying not to feel like a complete failure is difficult when I try to come up with better ways of doing things and get shot down instantly.
I want to major in Communications. I want a damn good job. I NEED a damn good job. I'm tired of needing. I'm tired of being a "have-not". I've been trying my damndest not to feel like a fucking statistic this past year, but I am. I am a single mother. I have no husband, no partner. I am a burden to the state, my parents, and any bleeding heart conservative who decides to feel victimized.
These little tantrums always compell me to try harder, to do better. Still, it hurts inside when I realize that I have five semesters to go before I get that degree and three years to complete them. It feels like an eternity. I know I can do it, but it's going to be hard.
The other day in the writing center I had to bring Sebastian because he was sick and we kept him home from day care. The first student I helped asked me casually "Where's your wedding ring?". He was foriegn. Maybe in his country the men always give a damn about the children they create. I tried my damndest not to look like my insides had just cracked. "It's just me and him", I said.
Then I had a girl, my last student. She seemed naive. Maybe that's why her question, "Is your husband working? Why can't he watch your son?" came out so easily. Of course. My husband should be watching my son. And the country of Tibet should not have been overrun by Chinese farmers and soldiers. And world hunger should be eliminated. Hell, where IS my ring? Where IS my husband? Where is the asshole who's absence I have to explain to my beautiful son who doesn't deserve the confusion and the loss he's going to feel when he realizes that some bastard out there didn't want anything to do with us? Every joy I've had from my son has been made bittersweet by the lack of someone else to smile at him. Someone who belongs there. That gaping hole in reality that floats alongside me everywhere we go. I don't need to meet anyone yet, I still have to come to terms with all this pain. I still have to figure out how to protect Sebastian from it. I can't trust myself yet not to subconsciously just look for a "father figure" for him. Whoever we end up with has to be right for both of us.
No journal entry would be complete without me going to bed in tears. Actually most entries are more than complete without. I'm babbling now... I guess I'll hit the sack.
My dad wants to retire. My dependence on him is an obstacle to that happening. He's wanting to leave here, travel for the rest of his life, and not have to work anymore. He deserves all these things. He's sixty one years old and he's been working and supporting people around him all his life.
Unfortunately for him, I have yet to find a way to survive in this goddamn place without at least a four year degree. Had I been "on task" when I graduated high school I would already have a degree and a career.
Now I'm fighting to get out of his way and he keeps reminding me that he's "outta here in three and a half years". So when he leaves in 2006 I'm S.O.L. unless I can support us. That's fair enough. Why should he support me any longer? I'm almost 25 years old.
...Trying not to feel like a complete failure is difficult when I try to come up with better ways of doing things and get shot down instantly.
I want to major in Communications. I want a damn good job. I NEED a damn good job. I'm tired of needing. I'm tired of being a "have-not". I've been trying my damndest not to feel like a fucking statistic this past year, but I am. I am a single mother. I have no husband, no partner. I am a burden to the state, my parents, and any bleeding heart conservative who decides to feel victimized.
These little tantrums always compell me to try harder, to do better. Still, it hurts inside when I realize that I have five semesters to go before I get that degree and three years to complete them. It feels like an eternity. I know I can do it, but it's going to be hard.
The other day in the writing center I had to bring Sebastian because he was sick and we kept him home from day care. The first student I helped asked me casually "Where's your wedding ring?". He was foriegn. Maybe in his country the men always give a damn about the children they create. I tried my damndest not to look like my insides had just cracked. "It's just me and him", I said.
Then I had a girl, my last student. She seemed naive. Maybe that's why her question, "Is your husband working? Why can't he watch your son?" came out so easily. Of course. My husband should be watching my son. And the country of Tibet should not have been overrun by Chinese farmers and soldiers. And world hunger should be eliminated. Hell, where IS my ring? Where IS my husband? Where is the asshole who's absence I have to explain to my beautiful son who doesn't deserve the confusion and the loss he's going to feel when he realizes that some bastard out there didn't want anything to do with us? Every joy I've had from my son has been made bittersweet by the lack of someone else to smile at him. Someone who belongs there. That gaping hole in reality that floats alongside me everywhere we go. I don't need to meet anyone yet, I still have to come to terms with all this pain. I still have to figure out how to protect Sebastian from it. I can't trust myself yet not to subconsciously just look for a "father figure" for him. Whoever we end up with has to be right for both of us.
No journal entry would be complete without me going to bed in tears. Actually most entries are more than complete without. I'm babbling now... I guess I'll hit the sack.