This Is Where I Lose My Balance

It’s pretty bad when you type an entire entry and then delete it because you feel ridiculous for expressing yourself.  I’m falling back into that mold, the one where emotions are weakness and to show them is to expose yourself.  So I’ll keep them to myself and enjoy the tiny therapy of simply typing something out, even if no one will ever read it.  That’s not the important part for me.  The important part is finding the words to say what I need to say.  People confuse expression with silly prose, or overly complicated strings of words that sound like they belong in an early period novel.  Expression is truth, no matter how clumsy it may sound when you read it aloud.

My head is everywhere and I can’t think straight.  I’m randomly irritable and I’ve been avoiding the internet.  I know I have things to do, I know I made promises, but right now?  I don’t care.  Real life comes first and for the first time, I’m treating that as such.  I have more important things to do and honestly, zero drive to sit here.  The times I do are for my husband.  I’m here now because writing usually helps my thoughts make more sense.  I’ve gained some clarity from the writing I did but erased, now I’m simply writing so that when I look back on this, I know what was happening.

Moving is coming along.  We are definitely moving in the beginning of October.  We’ve picked out all the furniture and now just need to purchase it.  This week, sometime, I think.  We have a wedding to attend Friday and then next Friday, I’m off to Pennsylvania for a week.  When I get back?  Moving preparations will be in full swing.

It’s funny to think,  but I’ll miss this place.  I’ve been here nearly two years now and I’ve gotten used to it.  Granted, I don’t like the weird weather, but it’s nice to walk outside and see trees, forested hillsides, and farms off in the distance.  I won’t have that when we move.  It will still be pretty “out there”, but no farms, none of that, just houses.  Not to mention, it’s less than ten minutes from the capital of West Virginia.  So, I’m not expecting any great sort of quiet.  It will be an experience, for sure.

My health is still not perfect.  I’m having some issues, but nothing too terrible yet.  I had to cancel my yearly visit with the female doctor due to my inability to be there at the end of September.  Seriously, are they nuts?  I’m moving, people.  Take your visit, your attitude and shove it.  So I’m looking elsewhere.  We’ll see how it goes.  Other than that, I’m resting inbetween running around and getting things together.  Sometimes I feel a little over my limit, but so far, I’ve been able to recover.

It’s weird, to think that in a month’s time, I’ll be in my own apartment, surrounded by my own stuff, alone with my husband.  It will be weird.  He’ll definitely have to stop being such a dick, stressful times or not.  It would be better if I had someone to rant to, but I don’t.  So he gets stuck with the brunt of my–sometimes irrational–malice.

A Tiny Change of Pace

So, I’ve been without internet for awhile now.  You’d think I would have gone crazy and given my mental state when it all began, I probably would have.  Things were dark and black; my only thought was of running home and chasing my problems away with the false comfort of familiarity and family.  Unfortunately, those are shallow escapes, quickly washed away by the realization of why you left in the first place.  Things have changed, not completely, but enough.

My father-in-law took the job two hours away and they are moving.  We don’t know when, only that they are.  We’re moving, too.  In October.  We looked at apartments, we have furniture picked out and ready to purchase, everything is moving forward.  I still need to get my name changed–I’m hoping to do so before we leave.  It’ll make it easier since we only have one car.

I always feel awkward typing out my emotions and issues here.  They’re misunderstood and misinterpreted.  If I say I want to run home, everyone assumes that the husband and I are on the rocks, we made a mistake, or we’ll never work.  No one considers any other factors.  One very important one is that I have no one to talk to when he makes me angry, upsets me, or anything of the sort.  He’s my only friend and the only person I talk to outside of family.  So, it definitely adds to the strain.  Not to mention that you’re put under a microscope when you live with parents, especially ones whose ideals of “married life” are a bit, um, ‘special’.

I would say that even his own parents don’t get it, but they barely even know their own son.  Which is seriously messed up.  How can you live with someone and not know them?  My mum is an alcoholic, that’s her excuse, but my dad knows me well enough to not do some of the stupid shit I catch his parents doing.  I’ve confronted my mother-in-law about it only to be met with severe confusion.  The things she says or observes with him are so off-base it’s like she’s looking at an alien lifeform through a faraway telescope.

My thoughts are everywhere as I contemplate what this move means.  It isn’t simply moving, it’s a step.  A long climb up a huge, towering cliff riddled with falling rocks and debri.  An extraction from a familiar life, finding yourself instead in some sort of strange place with seemingly endless possibilities.  I’m excited and a little frightened.  I want my own place so bad and I have these moments where I’m sitting and thinking, “soon, this will be my couch I’m sitting on, not someone else’s.  The things I have will be mine.”  It’s a strange feeling.

There’s still a long way to go, but at least we’re going somewhere instead of idling.  I get antsy when progress  stops and we remain at a standstill.  I’m progressive, I want to constantly move forward, evolve, change it up.  I can’t stand just… existing.  What’s the point?

A Little Slice of Life

Pet death seems to be a prevalent theme lately.  This does not make me happy.  My in-laws dog, Apache, has been doing pretty bad for the past year.  A little over a year ago, my mother-in-law took him to the vet before we went to Key West.  The vet said he maybe another good year left in him… and he did.  Unfortunately, that year came to a close today.  Apache was euthanized this morning after battling with bladder issues for months.

It started before we left for Key West.  He’s been on medication for awhile now, but he’s still had issues going to the bathroom.  Last week, he was unable to move, really.  This week?  He didn’t move, he couldn’t pee, he was miserable.  My mother-in-law took him to the vet yesterday.  The vet sent them home with pain medication, telling her to keep an eye on him.  That was wrong, so very wrong.  Poor Apache.  This morning, he kept trying to get away.  Dogs like to run off and die, they don’t do it as a public spectacle.  He could barely move, but he forced himself to try and head for the woods, but he fell over and tumbled down the small hill.  It was surely a sign.

So, I have to look forward to breaking this news to my husband.  Lovely.  My father-in-law has been in tears since he got home and cried the entire time he was burying him.  My mother-in-law has been going in and out of crying fits since they got back, too.  It’s both strange and fascinating how differently people can handle death.  Unfortunately, I know for a fact that while my husband has faced very real human death… he is not so good with pet death.  Not so good at all.  I can still remember when he called me to tell me Tigger was dead.

It still makes me want to cry.  You never want to see the person you love in so much pain.  I think that’s the worst part of it, really.  I’ve been dealing with death since I could fathom was it is, and while I’ve never actually been told I would die, I tend to handle it as best as I can.  But my husband… no.  He breaks apart, shatters, and it takes forever to put the pieces back together.

We were supposed to go Disc Golfing with our friend tonight, but I don’t see that happening.  I’ll have to tell him over the phone, too, because he’ll call on his way in from work.  He’ll have to call our friend and let him know.  Sigh.

No wonder I was up so early this morning.  It’s going to be a long day.  :(

Welcome to Tartarus

It’d be a total and abrupt lie to say that now that the wedding stress is gone, everything is great.  Hardly.  There was that post-wedding heavy sigh of relief and the delight of the vacation and its lack of worries… but as soon as my feet hit home turf, well, everything kicked up again.  I don’t mean to sound like someone with a chip on their shoulder or someone who thinks the world is out to get them.  I don’t, I just state the facts.  The facts are that throughout my entire life, anything I’ve ever tried to do has been met with extreme and unprejudiced conflict.  I explain it to Chris like this, you heard of Sisyphus?  No?  Well you have now, because I might as well be the female version.

I used to be obsessed with history and myths, but it’s tapered off considerably and so, I’m a bit dusty on my knowledge.  But me and Sisyphus?  We go back.  I’ve identified with this my entire life.  However, I’ve not really done anything to justify the taskless endeavor of this constantly pushing and watching the boulder just go right back to the starting position.  I was a bit of a brat as a child, but damn.  It wasn’t like I handcuffed Death and hid him in my closet or anything!  Now, I know how this sounds.  Boo-hoo, right?  Sucks to be you, there’s people starving in Africa?  I know, I know.  It’s a little melodramatic, but it’s true.

Everything I try to do seems ten times harder than it should be.  It really does.  Is it some kind of subconcious need to hold myself back?  Was I born under the wrong star?  I have no freaking clue, but I do know it’s annoying as hell.  Nothing is simple for me.  The most painless of tasks can be made the most excruciating experience in the world just by having me there.  Chris didn’t believe me, not until he started living with me.  Then he realized why my father tried to warn him away.  I’m down with God and everything, and everything knows, I sure as hell wouldn’t be here without Him… but holy crap.  Seriously?  I am cursed.  I have to be.  Even before I was capable of knowing what a curse was or what “bad luck” meant, I’ve had it.

I’m not looking for handouts, I sure as hell would be bored to death were my life completely easy and without trial, but a break would be nice.  For once, can’t something go right?  Even my wedding, as beautiful as it was, was clouded over by a miasma of tension, familial fighting, and a bunch of other stupid things.  The only blessing was that my mother couldn’t attend, which is a double-edged sword.  She’s my mother, she wasn’t there, it will hurt forever, but I can’t deny the benefits of it.  If I wanted handouts, I would have stuck myself up my estranged grandfather and his third wife’s ass.  He lives in a two million dollar mansion, folks.  I have ridiculously rich family.  Yet, they have been nothing in my life, mainly due to my dad.  And I’d rather have my dad than them any day of the week.

I don’t want it to sound like nothing good happens.  Oh, it does.  The best thing that’s ever happened to me, even if its hurts me to the core, has been coming here.  Chris stealing me away and introducing me to his parents, who allowed me to live in their home, even though they barely knew me and it went against their morales?  And not just that, but embraced me, and truly love me enough to do things that even my own family would balk at?  I can’t put it to words.  I can’t.  But it doesn’t erase every other hardship I’ve endured, the things I will never say, and the secrets that will follow me to the grave.  I always feel like I’m twenty steps behind everyone else and that everything I do, it’s too late, or not enough.

Right now, Chris and I are trying to look at apartments, which is pretty much moot.  I’m unemployed, the state police pays shit, and we can’t really move because the rent, plus utlities, plus groceries/etc… it can’t happen on his salary.  It can’t.  I’ve been looking for jobs, but we have one car and it has to match Chris’ schedule.  Everything is just a mess and again, despite the good things that have graced me, I feel like I’m pushing the boulder up the hill only to have it fall back and roll me flat all over again.  Even Chris finding a job was trying… those were dark, stressful times.  There will be more.  But this?  I don’t even know what to do about it, if I can do anything about it.

The economy is in the toliet and even if I can find even just a stupid, silly job to supplement his income… how will I get there?  We’re talking funds, people, we can’t just go, “oh, another car!”  No.  Not happening.  Not when we have to buy furniture, etc.  I just don’t know what to do.  It doesn’t help that my health is kind of getting worse, which I haven’t mentioned to anyone.  Chris noticed just recently.  I don’t know what’s wrong with me, but I’m losing my energy and… bleeding.  A lot.  Not like, period a lot, but bleeding when I shouldn’t be and it wasn’t old blood.  It was red.  I know I need to get new birth control, but again.  A mole hill becomes a damn mountain.  Let us not mention that I haven’t had a physical since  I was fifteen or so… my mother-in-law still throws a fit about that one.

At least Sisyphus was a king.  He at least got to enjoy some part of his life.  I’m wondering if I’ll ever get to sit back and just enjoy mine.  I spent my childhood trying to understand all the things that happened to me and around me, my adolensence caring for alcoholics, and now?  I’m just trying to figure out how to stand on my own two feet and still manage to support those around me.

No wonder I’m not very social and was never one with friends.  Who has time or the mental energy to exhaust on them?

I’m endlessly grateful to have people that love me, to have found that one person I want more than I want air, and to have the chance and opportunity to live somewhere that is full of opportunity and freedoms… I just wish that maybe, sometimes, it would be like everyone else.  Where things just fall into their laps.  Just one thing, maybe?  That’d be kinda cool.  Until then, it’s back to the boulder.  Pardon the angst, folks.  It stains.