Sometimes I just...
There are no words, sometimes. On these occasions, there's just no way you can express things without going into theatrics, thrashing and screaming to get your point across.
My life, like many others, is one of those things.
My father, my mother, my husband; all of these things take a rousing amount of argument both to defend and to defend against. Already this morning, before 12noon, I've had enough of the montage of insanity, blame, and consequence. Truthfully, I don't know how much more I can take, or how many more times I can be touched by the agonies of dysfunctional relationships and memories of things that should be left as just that - memories.
Things that should hold enjoyment to me are slowly beginning to crumble down around me, into piles of festering debris of what they once were. I'm losing touch with the things I love, because they're becoming tainted with these realizations and thoughts and admissions that are slowly killing me and my connection to the people I care about.
Those people with whom I should find solace and restitution - while some are helping me come to terms with my own faults and misgivings - others are turning around against me, throwing truths which should be left to lie back in my face as though they were always meant to be deadly, mind-bending projectiles of self hate and malice towards the others involved.
In all reality, as I said, my life is much like many others, I'm sure. Like everyone else, again, I find my situation different - unique, in a way. More than likely, solely because it's my own. I can't say that I don't care about what others are going through as in reality that couldn't be farther from the truth, but I can say that I'm far more concerned with myself than anyone else. Selfish, perhaps. But also prudent.
All that remains for me now is for me to make my decisions, and come to terms with whatever I choose. One day, maybe, I'll figure the entire thing out; more than likely though, I'll tread water until I sink.
My life, like many others, is one of those things.
My father, my mother, my husband; all of these things take a rousing amount of argument both to defend and to defend against. Already this morning, before 12noon, I've had enough of the montage of insanity, blame, and consequence. Truthfully, I don't know how much more I can take, or how many more times I can be touched by the agonies of dysfunctional relationships and memories of things that should be left as just that - memories.
Things that should hold enjoyment to me are slowly beginning to crumble down around me, into piles of festering debris of what they once were. I'm losing touch with the things I love, because they're becoming tainted with these realizations and thoughts and admissions that are slowly killing me and my connection to the people I care about.
Those people with whom I should find solace and restitution - while some are helping me come to terms with my own faults and misgivings - others are turning around against me, throwing truths which should be left to lie back in my face as though they were always meant to be deadly, mind-bending projectiles of self hate and malice towards the others involved.
In all reality, as I said, my life is much like many others, I'm sure. Like everyone else, again, I find my situation different - unique, in a way. More than likely, solely because it's my own. I can't say that I don't care about what others are going through as in reality that couldn't be farther from the truth, but I can say that I'm far more concerned with myself than anyone else. Selfish, perhaps. But also prudent.
All that remains for me now is for me to make my decisions, and come to terms with whatever I choose. One day, maybe, I'll figure the entire thing out; more than likely though, I'll tread water until I sink.