Mother's Day Blues
I thought today of when the last time was that I felt truly happy.
I can't think of an honest answer to that, and that depresses me even more. I mean I have happy -moments- I guess, and it's not like I'm looking to be in la la land 24/7, but I mean really, honestly happy. Just yeah. Happy. Feeling good. In fact when I look back over my life, I"m not sure I've ever been happy in that way - in terms of my adult life. I read somewhere that you can become in some sense, addicted to unhappiness, and maybe that's it I don't know, but all I can say is if I ever have known it, it has been so fleeting that it isn't worth mentioning.
As I sit here at work, I ask myself - Imagine the perfect scenario - if you could have anything, anything that would make you happy, what would that be, picture it and say it out loud. Well, in some sense despite what anyone could argue, it boils down to money, which accordingly, I've never had in my adult life, nor the security that it can provide. Those who say money can't buy you happiness are full of shit. It could buy me peace of mind, and a lot of happiness in my opinion. So I say, well, ok... how would that come about?
Work? Well, I'm 43, obese, and my health overall is on the lesser side of fair as a result. I'm past the age where I'm going to climb the ladder to success and "make something of myself" on any grand scale. I have 2 college degrees and I'm making just a little over minimum wage. In part this is because I've never been able to hold a job for very long, either because of my own impulsivity or because for many years, I had 2 kids who couldn't behave themselves and I had cops calling my workplace or etc. and wound up having to quit or getting fired - but mostly it's because of my own laziness or impulses. I won't use the boys as a cop out excuse. They were only part of the problem.
What then? Find a "good man to take care of me"? - believe me, I'd like to do that, really. I'm tired of always struggling. I'm tired of being alone. I'm tired of having no one but my slacker-ass 23 yr old son to talk to about my frustrations - including him! I would really love a partner to fold me into his arms and kiss away my fears, but you know what? I have so much fucking baggage no man is going to want to hear or know all that shit, and while some could say well just keep all that to yourself, that's ridiculous, because well, I am my son's mother, so issues with him affect me, so that's --part-- of me. To accept me, they'd have to accept that as well. Additionally, I mean, I'm fat. I feel not like jabba the hut, but I know I'm not a size 10 "curvy" girl. I'm fat. I'm fat because I'm so damn discontent, for the most part and I know it. I have mental problems.... not a lot, but I do. I have anxiety beyond the usual omgomgomg moments. I have unusual sexuality ideals as well, if you could call them that. Gender issues even maybe. In short, I'm pretty fucked up, and I don't think there's many guys who'd want to take it on, so I don't go out looking --- also let's not forget --- I never have any money, so I can never go out, period.
I work, unhappily and unrewarded at a job far far below my skill level. I go home. I eat. I sleep. I deal with stomach issues. I go back to work. I go to doctors. I deal with chronic pain. I sleep. I go back to work.
While at work, I learn my youngest son is back in jail. His (?) ex girlfriend says to me on IM that evidently for the past year, my son has been hitting her "when he gets angry" - now he's always, always, always had anger and impulse control issues. He used to be in counseling and on SSI disability for these things, until someone in the brilliant psychology world evaluated him and decided he was pretty much a pot smoking useless kid who needed a swift dose of reality and cut off his check. Now look where he is? Granted, more excuses, but still you have to wonder if that hadn't happened would he be in so much trouble. Probably yes. I don't know. I think I'm done with the both of them.
My oldest does nothing but sit and play video games, watch television, sleep and eat. If I am obese, he's morbidly obese. Hell, we both are, but at least I'm trying to live my life. Actually the truth there is that I can't *afford* to not work. Hell, if I got to sit on my ass and collect disability for my "mental condition" - I'd probably do it too, but laughably, I applied and was denied - twice...... and in the meantime, where does the money come from? Santa Claus? No. I had to go to work. HAD to go to work. And all these years after that application, I'm no farther ahead. Isn't that funny?
I'm so ready to just give up.
What is the fucking point, really.
I can't think of an honest answer to that, and that depresses me even more. I mean I have happy -moments- I guess, and it's not like I'm looking to be in la la land 24/7, but I mean really, honestly happy. Just yeah. Happy. Feeling good. In fact when I look back over my life, I"m not sure I've ever been happy in that way - in terms of my adult life. I read somewhere that you can become in some sense, addicted to unhappiness, and maybe that's it I don't know, but all I can say is if I ever have known it, it has been so fleeting that it isn't worth mentioning.
As I sit here at work, I ask myself - Imagine the perfect scenario - if you could have anything, anything that would make you happy, what would that be, picture it and say it out loud. Well, in some sense despite what anyone could argue, it boils down to money, which accordingly, I've never had in my adult life, nor the security that it can provide. Those who say money can't buy you happiness are full of shit. It could buy me peace of mind, and a lot of happiness in my opinion. So I say, well, ok... how would that come about?
Work? Well, I'm 43, obese, and my health overall is on the lesser side of fair as a result. I'm past the age where I'm going to climb the ladder to success and "make something of myself" on any grand scale. I have 2 college degrees and I'm making just a little over minimum wage. In part this is because I've never been able to hold a job for very long, either because of my own impulsivity or because for many years, I had 2 kids who couldn't behave themselves and I had cops calling my workplace or etc. and wound up having to quit or getting fired - but mostly it's because of my own laziness or impulses. I won't use the boys as a cop out excuse. They were only part of the problem.
What then? Find a "good man to take care of me"? - believe me, I'd like to do that, really. I'm tired of always struggling. I'm tired of being alone. I'm tired of having no one but my slacker-ass 23 yr old son to talk to about my frustrations - including him! I would really love a partner to fold me into his arms and kiss away my fears, but you know what? I have so much fucking baggage no man is going to want to hear or know all that shit, and while some could say well just keep all that to yourself, that's ridiculous, because well, I am my son's mother, so issues with him affect me, so that's --part-- of me. To accept me, they'd have to accept that as well. Additionally, I mean, I'm fat. I feel not like jabba the hut, but I know I'm not a size 10 "curvy" girl. I'm fat. I'm fat because I'm so damn discontent, for the most part and I know it. I have mental problems.... not a lot, but I do. I have anxiety beyond the usual omgomgomg moments. I have unusual sexuality ideals as well, if you could call them that. Gender issues even maybe. In short, I'm pretty fucked up, and I don't think there's many guys who'd want to take it on, so I don't go out looking --- also let's not forget --- I never have any money, so I can never go out, period.
I work, unhappily and unrewarded at a job far far below my skill level. I go home. I eat. I sleep. I deal with stomach issues. I go back to work. I go to doctors. I deal with chronic pain. I sleep. I go back to work.
While at work, I learn my youngest son is back in jail. His (?) ex girlfriend says to me on IM that evidently for the past year, my son has been hitting her "when he gets angry" - now he's always, always, always had anger and impulse control issues. He used to be in counseling and on SSI disability for these things, until someone in the brilliant psychology world evaluated him and decided he was pretty much a pot smoking useless kid who needed a swift dose of reality and cut off his check. Now look where he is? Granted, more excuses, but still you have to wonder if that hadn't happened would he be in so much trouble. Probably yes. I don't know. I think I'm done with the both of them.
My oldest does nothing but sit and play video games, watch television, sleep and eat. If I am obese, he's morbidly obese. Hell, we both are, but at least I'm trying to live my life. Actually the truth there is that I can't *afford* to not work. Hell, if I got to sit on my ass and collect disability for my "mental condition" - I'd probably do it too, but laughably, I applied and was denied - twice...... and in the meantime, where does the money come from? Santa Claus? No. I had to go to work. HAD to go to work. And all these years after that application, I'm no farther ahead. Isn't that funny?
I'm so ready to just give up.
What is the fucking point, really.