This one’s not pretty

I’m in a fucking heap this afternoon and I am just going to whine here for a moment, so if you don’t feel like listening, that’s fine with me.

I feel beaten down. I want a break. I want something good to happen.

I know I have plenty of good and at the heart of all of it are my people. I am blessed and I know it and I’m not being bombed with chemical weapons, whatever. Blah blah blah.

My reality is that I have been and continue to be pummelled.

My 87-year-old father is in the hospital with multiple issues, my son is getting sentenced to jail for this fucking accident on Friday, and I can’t get past how I’ve been treated this year by people who supposedly loved me, because all of these people are around.

I feel pain. I’m tired. The teary floodgates have opened and I can’t stop the waterworks.

All was contained today until I got a call from the son of a friend who died (not recently) asking me about scattering his father’s ashes and I know that MXB should be a part of that and we can’t both be a part of it so I bowed out.

It was the right thing to do.

But how much can a gal take? I know that I keep referring to the last several months when my world imploded; the breakup, losing the home, boys moving out, accident, giardia, concussion etc. But the reality is that this started long before that with my mom’s cancer and my dad’s life-threatening heart and lung issues.

I want to go to Florida now – I know it would help them. But I can’t go because of this week’s sentencing.

So then I have to face the reality that my son is likely going to have to do jail time and I really didn’t plan that when I decided to have children.

I feel crushed beneath a boot heel.

Last fall, when the shit hit, even though I was crippled with sadness and there was too much on my plate for any one person to manage, I knew that I had the fortitude and tenacity (god, I love that word) to make it through.

Today, I don’t have that confidence. All I have today is a wall of disbelief and a petulant sense of deserving better.

I want to kick and scream and throw shit and then not have all of this crap happening any more.

Like I said, I want something good to happen.

I’ve had Utah.

Without Utah, I wouldn’t be walking and talking.

I have incredible people. One showed up today with a Sally-green spatula for my kitchen which made me smile.

But I just feel like I can’t do any more. My reserves for tackling this next round have been completely depleted. And yet it’s here. I’m in it.

It’s thick and murky and sludgy and I just want to lie down and let it consume me.

I am tired of fighting the fight.

I am tired of having to be resilient and strong and tenacious.

I want to wake up excited for the day, not weighted down before I am even out of bed.

No one deserves the suffering that they must endure, but I’m at the point where I’m thinking I fucking deserve something better than this.

I’m tired.

I’m tired.

I’m tired.



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