Sitting here, alone, I look back at my life. I attempt to look even further back, to the history of my family, what they accomplished and what they lost.
I soon realize that I am so terrified by the prospect that my life will be anything like my mothers, my grandmothers, my great-grandmothers. Jordan has only drank a little bit in the past couple of days, but, because of the fear of having to live, being abused day after day by a drunken man clouds my eyes and my thought and I see him turning into something that he's not. Or maybe he is, I can't tell. My fear is too strong to be able to tell.
I see something similar between my mother and I. My maternal grandfather was a prick. A total, drunken prick. But my mother loved him so much, so much that to even mention his name brings tears to her eyes. Hell, you can hear it in her voice. She misses him that much.
And my father. An alcoholic bastard. I have no doubt that he loves me. But I know he loves alcohol more. My constant need for him to choose me over the alcohol very well might be driving a wedge between my husband and I. And I brought this on myself. I convinced him to buy alcohol. Honestly, at first it was for my benefit. I thought it'd be cool to have a boyfriend who bought me booze, but the novelty wore off quickly, and now I find myself unable to drink with him. I don't want to drink, but at the same time I do, just to be able to do something with him again.
It's sad when I think about how little we actually do together. Hell, for the last few days, we've barely even seen each other. I've been in my own little world, making plans, running calculations, zoning out and back in. I inform him as much as I can, but, really, I lose track of it all. My mind is always so busy with everything, and I fear if I slow down and take things at a snails pace, then everything will fall apart. And I look at everything that I start and leave unfinished. This very room for example. Yeah yeah, I have reasons, valid reasons to not finish painting this room. But I'm also putting off making the appointment with the chiropractor so that I can have my back aligned, so that I can finish this job. My crosstitch is still sitting in the living room, untouched for months. I could easily go to Home Depot and talk to the people there about wood strips to cover the mess I've made in the living room. But I keep putting off taking the measurements. I put everything off, to make room for things to start. It's almost as if my plate needs to be full, no, overflowing, but I don't know why.
I keep thinking that one day, life won't be so complicated. I'm the one complicating things though. Even this entry itself is complicating things, and yet I keep on typing.
What will my accomplishments be?
What will I lose?
I soon realize that I am so terrified by the prospect that my life will be anything like my mothers, my grandmothers, my great-grandmothers. Jordan has only drank a little bit in the past couple of days, but, because of the fear of having to live, being abused day after day by a drunken man clouds my eyes and my thought and I see him turning into something that he's not. Or maybe he is, I can't tell. My fear is too strong to be able to tell.
I see something similar between my mother and I. My maternal grandfather was a prick. A total, drunken prick. But my mother loved him so much, so much that to even mention his name brings tears to her eyes. Hell, you can hear it in her voice. She misses him that much.
And my father. An alcoholic bastard. I have no doubt that he loves me. But I know he loves alcohol more. My constant need for him to choose me over the alcohol very well might be driving a wedge between my husband and I. And I brought this on myself. I convinced him to buy alcohol. Honestly, at first it was for my benefit. I thought it'd be cool to have a boyfriend who bought me booze, but the novelty wore off quickly, and now I find myself unable to drink with him. I don't want to drink, but at the same time I do, just to be able to do something with him again.
It's sad when I think about how little we actually do together. Hell, for the last few days, we've barely even seen each other. I've been in my own little world, making plans, running calculations, zoning out and back in. I inform him as much as I can, but, really, I lose track of it all. My mind is always so busy with everything, and I fear if I slow down and take things at a snails pace, then everything will fall apart. And I look at everything that I start and leave unfinished. This very room for example. Yeah yeah, I have reasons, valid reasons to not finish painting this room. But I'm also putting off making the appointment with the chiropractor so that I can have my back aligned, so that I can finish this job. My crosstitch is still sitting in the living room, untouched for months. I could easily go to Home Depot and talk to the people there about wood strips to cover the mess I've made in the living room. But I keep putting off taking the measurements. I put everything off, to make room for things to start. It's almost as if my plate needs to be full, no, overflowing, but I don't know why.
I keep thinking that one day, life won't be so complicated. I'm the one complicating things though. Even this entry itself is complicating things, and yet I keep on typing.
What will my accomplishments be?
What will I lose?
VIEW 4 of 4 COMMENTS
Lose was you can, what is not important, what you don't need.
That is my advice.
I feel for you on the drinking thing. Seeing how my parents are sometimes, hearing the stories of my parents pass, I don't want to be like that. That is why I don't drink. It is my choice, I choose not to put people in harms ways.
Well, I hope you have a great day!
sounds like you are going through a lot.
*hugs*