Good girl gone bad
I've grown up to be obedient and righteous. I never do anything that is simply not the 'correct' thing. I don't say little white lies or play games of convenience. This good girl trait alone has been my greatest flaw.
You see, I've been married into a family whose values are opposite to mine. Privacy and empathy are alien to them unless they're the ones in question. Dear reader, as I write this I feel like none of this could be their fault. If faults are to be assigned it would be my husband's; who stands witness to the tiny moments of insult, belittling and shame that have piled into a mountain or; alas, the fault could simply be mine! After all, it is I, who has allowed myself to be in this sufferable situation year after year.
I just never wanted there to be drama, to cause hurt. Maybe I even feared it! I didn't want to be the cause of anything 'bad'. Like I said before, 'The good girl' trait might have been charming for my own family, and my dear friends but this became the core reason why my life's become alone and cruel.
Today, I woke up with the same feeling as the day before and the day before and the one before that. It was as if a hand as squeezing my heart like a dog's squeaky ball. Waves of weakness went through my heart to my limbs making them shaky. I quietly made my way to the bathroom trying not to wake my sleeping husband. Instagram quickly released me of the heart's signals and gripped my mind of the daily dreads instead.
I haven't been able to give my husband a child, I have been left alone in my home country, I have been kicked out of the family business by my sister-in-law. I am slowly failing.
I pull my mind together and focus on doing good. Quick productive thoughts rush in.
I have to make an order of meat to feed the strays. I have to study some French. I need to write today to help myself.
Then that's it. Right there, the first trigger of the day to hurt me. The fucking horrendous, loud, brain-hurting sound coming from the solar machine. My dear reader, of the many examples and incidents to come, this is the first reason why I think my inlaws disregard me as a human with some dignity. They installed the machine in the living room of my portion of the house. This living room is part of my open-style kitchen. All day, whether I want to cook, or I want to write, or I want to read, or I want to gaze at the birds, I am met with the consistent and continuous noise of this machine. I asked my husband and them many times to please re-install it in the stairs area, I have offered to call the solar people myself, I have so many times made these requests but to no avail.
My husband sleeps during the day, or he sits inside a smaller lounging area so he doesn't ever hear it. My inlaws live in a different portion of the house so it doesn't bother them. The only one who suffers is me, but I don't really count in this house. After all, I can be replaced and I don't have a child. There's nothing permanent or forever for me until I can prove otherwise.
So I did today what I would have never done. To hear the wind coming from the window and the chirping of the sweet birds I had left out some seeds to, to feel my thoughts pouring in and the release of the pain; I did what I would have never done as a good girl. I turned the fucking thing off.