Living in an Old World House of Hate

Living in this place is changing me. Not for the better. It’s undoing everything I’ve worked so hard to fix. It’s making me bitter and mean. It’s making me like her. 

I feel like I’m in an emergency room. There’s chaos and a wide range of emotions all around me. I flatline and feel the sweet relief of death, but the doctors and nurses keep reviving me. Each time they bring me back I try desperately to tell them to let me pass on, let me die, but I’m unable to communicate. I beg with my eyes, but they don’t understand. They just tell me everything will be ok then they leave me in the middle of the chaos until I flatline again. 

This is what I’m living every day. I just want to let go, but my few friends, my kids, and my husband keep me going despite me overwhelming desire to leave, I stay. The longer I stay, the more bitter I become. 

I don’t know how to stop this. If I’m not fighting with my grandmother-in-law I’m fighting with my husband or my kids. I can’t keep fighting. I don’t have enough care left in me to fight. I feel like I’m losing my battle with Life and Demons and I’m ok with it, but everyone around me keeps this tiny part of me going. It’s so tiny and weak, but this part of me keeps fighting even when I beg it to stop. 

I’m expected to do things that are not as simple as many would think. I just spent the better part of an hour standing in the bathroom with my two year old son as he “tried” to poop, but he already started pooping in his pull-ups so they were ruined and when we sat him down on the toilet he refused to push the rest out.

This is not the life I wanted. I am not built for babysitting pooping toddlers. I know they’re my kids, but being their mommy is the most difficult thing I’ve ever done. It’s not what I’m wired to do. But everyone expects me to do it with a smile on my face. Mostly his grandma expects that. 

I’m not good enough in her eyes. I never will be. I hate laundry and changing diapers and hearing “Mommy mommy mommy mommy” all fucking day long. I hate being needed so much. But I’m expected to just do it. 

I’m drowning and everyone is watching me, expecting me to swim. 

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5 thoughts on “Living in an Old World House of Hate

  1. Don’t let the grasp of one bitter old bitch define you. I understand that is harder said than done. I understand you live in her house. She wants things done HER way. However, you do NOT have to be her. You just have to buy yourself time when you can get back to YOUR life and the way YOU do things. Just keep in mind this shitstorm has an expiration. It will end. It’s “a phase.” We’ve all gone through them at some point or another. We’ve all struggled, and we all get through it differently. You ARE NOT alone. Keep your head up and look at the positives. In a mess of bullshit, the only thing left for you to concentrate on is the good. You DO have friends, you have your husband who would DIE for you and regardless of fights, still sticks by your side, and your children, well, they love you the only way they know how. Keep doing what you love. Keep writing. Keep in touch. Enjoy a 5 minute break. Don’t look at it as responsibility, look at it as an opportunity. You have the opportunity to mold cute little children into amazing little people. You have the chance to overcome odds that are stacked against you. And believe me when I tell you, it WILL make you a stronger person. You ARE NOT weak!!! You’ve been raising 3 wee ones and you kept a house hold running. Now you have a new opportunity to work with. Mold it to suit you. Better you. Become the woman you want to be. Make a plan for your future. What do you see yourself doing in 5 months? 6 months? 1 year? What path do you want to choose. However, you will continue further into this downward spiral if you don’t choose a new outlook. Positive things happen when you think positively. I would still probably be living on welfare in some shitty state funded shack if I hadn’t been determined to rise above. I overcame all that. And I know if I rise to the challenge, I can set my mind and do anything because I overcame the worst time of my life. And I know you can too.

    Liked by 1 person

      1. Amen to that! I tend to write when I’m feeling the intense emotions and use this like my journal so it gives a more intense look into my struggles and once I write them out I usually start to feel better. Such is the case this time.

        Liked by 1 person

      2. Writing is a wonderful outlet. I do the same, but I also understand your struggle isn’t going to end at the push of “publish.” It’s not really “advice.” It’s more of a declaration of how I coped and what has worked for me and the advice my family passed on as a coping mechanism. It serves wonders. When all hope seems lost, it’s best to narrow your mind to see only the good. Because I never wanted to raise a child in this mess of a world. When they told me I was getting a hysterectomy, was a marvelous day. Then I got pregnant and a whole mess of emotions collided me like planets crashing into the sun. I was a supersonic collision. And even now as I watch and read about this f*ed up society, I try to think only of the good. It’s the only thing that makes sense. And then I look at and listen to my son and know, that’s me. Despite all the bad in the world, I’ve created one GOOD thing. And he’s my real legacy of what I did right in this life.

        Liked by 1 person

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