I’m not Cinderella or Snow White. I’m not a Hallmark movie. I fell in love and life did not end up sunshine and roses. I made the best of it and changed my paradigm to try to reach for solutions. I fought and still do.
All the battles. Depression, Finances, Health, sexuality, family, home, pregnancies, post pregnancies, thyroid crashes, blood sugar swings and spikes. Most days I win those battles, some I lose and get up to try again.
I’m so different than normal people, I break all the rules, even my body refuses to cooperate like normal people. I eat 10 times healthier, exercise as much as the average athlete. Today I did five hours of mostly deep tissue massage and still took a 30 min treadmill walk. Yet I’m still far from accepted norms of beauty.
Where’s the “life is supposed to be fun” or “enjoy life”. Working too hard gets you nowhere: not only as a phrase, but as evidence of my life.
On one hand I’ve just accepted it as my fate. I drew the Short Straw. On the other I keep hope that maybe I’m wrong. Maybe the Hallmark stories are true and I just have yet to see the return. I have yet to see my love rescue me from fate. Hell love hasn’t even saved me from my brain yet.
I struggle to argue with myself that somewhere there’s a light so bright it vanquishes all the darkness and saves me from any more battles. Yet then I think that’s God’s light and it means then I’d be dead. I’m not ready for that.
I wanted light and love and less battles here and now. I want to help my children prosper and my family thrive, and to lead a long happy life with them and more.
I just struggle to see how that’s possible continuing as I am, slowly chipping at seemingly insurmountable odds. No one can fix it for me, but no one that can try to help wants to.
I know in my soul I’m worthy and deserving, but it seems that my brain wins and chooses the slow painful path. There is no Prince charming, no Knight in shining armor.
There’s not even John or Jane Doe willing to help coordinate logistics of a car repair or give me a lift to work or watch the kids for a couple of hours. We are so ostricized that we don’t even have a reliable babysitter. Every time we’ve ever asked even a small favor, of one of the families that frequently asks for Anya to keep their teens out of trouble, we get a series of excuses why they can’t do the thing we need. So repetitious that I’ve taken to only asking people if I really can’t come up with any other solution. Twice this year we’ve asked and begged and pleaded and both times our solutions came from paying for services we never utilize (and thus had to scramble to figure out the best fit) and a singular work acquaintance.
I want someone to care as much as I do. I want friends that reciprocate. I want responsible love that reciprocates. I want support. This warrior is having a rough go emotionally and trying like hell not to throw in the towel. When do my efforts matter? When do my efforts provide significant evidence of improvement? When does my body show my efforts? When will others be there for me? When does anything I’ve done get reciprocated? When will people care about me?
I’m so tried, I just want held. I thought SJ was different, I thought he was special. I love Nathan, why does he always talk at me like a wall of words will fix anything, if that were true this blog would be paying my bills by now. As it is, the readers I do have never even comment or even click like- that’s such a hard thing to do ya know. I don’t know half of them, and the other half stalk me digitally like a dirty secret or their prey. Hope they’re happy I still struggle from time to time, bet it makes them somehow feel better about themselves. Glad I can be of service somehow, my lack of solutions providing clarity for others is better than nothing for no-one.
For now I’m going to bed, heart aching, muscles aching.
May you all have better. Siva Hir Su