AAAARRRRGGHHHH!

I feel like Charlie Brown when he stares up at the sky and just lets one loose.

I really can't take much more of my life. But in order to change it, I'd probably have to hurt someone I really do love. Hubby. Because I don't know what's going to happen to us when I snap. And make no mistake about it, I'm going to.

In order of what's been bugging me:

First off - NOT PREGNANT. Not sure if that upsets me or not - reasons why, see previous post.

My weight. It's no big secret that I'm fat. It's no big secret that I'm depressed. So it should be no big secret and no surprise to anyone that I've done sweet fuck all the last month and a half. I've been away from the gym for two months. But now it's no longer just because I'm sad and tired. I'm feeling like crap and if even walking from one end of the building to the other to get to my car is causing me to have breathing issues, what is it going to be like on a treadmill? That terrifies me.

Last night, my mom said that I HAD looked like I'd been losing weight, but now it looks like I've been gaining it back. And I freaked out. Not only because I was sad and hurt that she'd say that, but because she's right. I don't have to get on a scale to know that. I can feel it. I can see it on me. And I'm grossed out and disgusted by it.

And it's affecting everything I do. I even hate sex. ME. I never thought I'd say that, and I'll only admit it here. But I don't enjoy it anymore. Writing about it too - actually, writing about anything. My brain has shut down completely to be honest. It's even hard to get out the words for this entry. My other blog hasn't been written in in about two months. TWO MONTHS. How can I call myself a writer if I can't even keep up with a blog?

Anyway, when mom and I had our little freak out - I went to Hubby afterwards. And him and I fought. TBH I can't take much more fighting. It's all we do - about everything. After dinner (pizza because God for-fucking-bid he cooks anything while I'm at work right?) when we went to bed, he fell asleep fast, as he usually does. But I've never been one to fall right to sleep. It's a rare occasion when it happens, and it's something that I need pills for. I take melatonin because it's natural. But it doesn't always work.

Hubby's a symphony of sounds, and when I'm tired, my hearing is super sensitive. He snores - LOUDLY (and might I add refuses to try anything to stop it or temper it), he mumbles in his sleep, AND he hacks up a lung on a nightly basis. This is from his smoking. And he usually makes these noises when he's facing me. PLUS he hogs the bed. He claims I do, but I took a picture last night and he was attempting to lay diagonal. I miss my own room. Or I wish we had gone for the king size bed. (I know I've said this all before but it's my blog and I'll repeat if I want to).

Anyway, between the arguments with both him and mom, and the fact that I couldn't find a comfy breathing/sleeping position, and with all the voices in my head screaming and yelling, not to mention Hubby's "concert", I felt seriously like I was going to kill someone. I was about fifteen seconds away from getting out of bed and going for a drive. And again, I'm an adult, I should be able to do that. Like I should be able to do whatever I want. But again, can't because of HIM.

I know the obvious solution is to split up. But I love him. I think. Anyway, that's something to be examined for another day.

Now, onto the work shit bothering me.

We have one girl, who's been made a supervisor, who hasn't even been WITH the company for a year. But she got the position. Meanwhile, I've been there going on nine years, and not once have I been asked to take a supervisory role. She has no credentials, not even a background in our industry. She was found as a coat check girl at a BAR and recruited from there.

So those of us who have more seniority have to listen to her sometimes. But we all know she got her promotion on her knees. She has no respect from the staff, only other supervisors and that's cuz she's got a relatively nice rack. She has barely any people who respect her in this company. And it's getting to the point where I almost threw myself under the bus by going to the boss and demanding that he revoke her supervisor status, because it's simply not fair to those of us who have been working for the company for years and never even got a shot at turning it down. (Not like I'd want to be a supervisor - more headaches and no perks. Not even additional pay.  But it would be nice to have someone ask me if I wanted the position. It would tell me that they have faith in what I do, that I'm good at my job.) But I was asked not to by someone very important to me. She said she needs me there, and doesn't want to see me fired. So I'll keep my mouth shut, bite my tongue, and hope that karma does her job and this bitch gets a kick in the head.

And the other job, the lousy day one that I'm currently at while I'm typing this - I really need to find a different job. A better one. With more hours - better benefits. And better pay. And room for advancement.

I need a purpose in life. A real one. Maybe a child would have been my salvation. Maybe that's what I need. I'm tired of being sad. I'm tired of being angry. I want to be happy. I can't remember what happy feels like to be honest. When I ask myself the last time I was truly happy, do you know that I can't remember? I think maybe the day I got married. Fourteen years ago. WOW. A long time to be miserable, doncha think?

I think, sometimes, maybe I need medication. But I don't want that. I know that I can improve things on my own. I haven't lost all hope yet. I just need someone to push me in that direction - unfortunately I need someone to hold my hand. I need to be accountable. I tried that with weight watchers. It only worked for a little while. I should be going to OA meetings. But I really don't think that's the right place for me. I do need to get a handle on my relationship with food. I know that laziness is at the very heart of it.

I have all the tools to do this - to get it right. Just not as much time as I thought I had. I'm going to be 40 in a year and a half. I have to step it up  now - i'm not living the second half of my life like I lived the first - lazy, in fear and too tired or sick to do anything fun.

Sound motivated enough? I hope so. I hope it keeps. I hope it kicks me in the ass every day. But I doubt it.


I guess I should try and look like I'm doing work here. Don't know why I bother though. I'm not fooling anyone.

Nothing to fear but fear itself

Calling BULLSHIT on that.

I might be pregnant. And that is a terrifying thought in itself. Because as much as I lamented the lack of a child, the truth be told, I'd pretty much accepted that it's my lot in life. I'd learned to live with that.

Now here's the weird thing. My period is about ten days late. But I've had no sickness, no sore breasts, no signs at all. Which is bizarre in itself. And all three tests I've taken so far say negative. So now I have to get my blood tested. But I'm scared of either outcome.

Because if I'm not pregnant, then it means that there could very well be a serious medical issue as to why I haven't gotten my period yet. And that scares me.

And if I am pregnant, well,  I'M PREGNANT. Hello???? Hubby and I aren't getting along lately at all. Just last night he went to sleep downstairs because he refuses to do anything about his snoring and it's keeping me awake. But he got all pissy about it. Granted I was able to sleep. So I guess it can't be that bad. LOL. Ok, that's horrible. But maybe I'm just meant to sleep alone? My hearing is so sensitive when it comes to noise at night that it's annoying.

And I think I'm hearing things too at night. Voices, music....but no apparitions have made themselves known to me, so I'm not sure it's supernatural. But I digress - again. The point is that when i went to see my doctor, and brought up that mom still wants a grandchild from me, he looked at me pointedly and said "Why does she want to raise one on her own?". Which scares the CRAP out of me even more. I don't think I'd have the strength to terminate another one, but if it meant my own life? I'm not sure what kind of person that would make me.

I have been so horrible with my diet lately. Still off the shakes. Which means no healthy anything. And last night I was supposed to go to meeting #2 for OA. But I was feeling like shit, and I'm so worried about this that I just vegged on the couch. At least I wasn't there when hubby got home. I told myself I should get off the couch and do something before he got home and yelled. Fortunately I was standing at the bed sorting socks when he walked in. Looking useful, if not feeling it.

I haven't been to the gym either. I keep telling myself every day I'm going to go, but I don't. And today I have to go to work in Hamilstone, so there's no chance of being able to work out, shower and then get on the road to be there on time. I mean, realistically, I COULD, if I pushed it. But I'm not sure I'm up for it. But my body keeps getting bigger and uglier.

What if there's something seriously wrong with me? I don't have the money to be off work while I get it taken care of. And the gov't hardly pays anything for disability. I remember that from my heart attack. And mom can't afford to support me.

Hubby and I argued the other night, ironically the day after the ladies and I came back from our Buffalo trip. It was about money. He wants a separate bank account. I bring in less than half of what he does per paycheck, plus my second job which barely pays anything. But he says he wants us to have separate money. Which means I really have to hustle. Part of me wants that. At least I can attempt to put myself on a budget. He refuses to even try. But before we can separate bank accounts, he has to get us and KEEP us, in the black. Because no matter what, our account is ALWAYS $1000 in the hole come payday. If we can get from one payday to the next and our acc't balance is $0.00 after the bills get paid, then fine. Separate the accounts. But until that happens - forget it.

I think all the mess in my head is out now. I won't be able to get blood work done until Monday. I'm not sure what to cross my fingers for. Maybe early menopause?

And now for your SNL Weekend Update...

No, not really. But it was an interesting title.

So last night I went to my first Overeaters Anonymous meeting. I'm still not sure if it's the group for me. I don't compulsively over eat, but I do have a warped relationship with food, and maybe that can get it under control.

I mean, I've downloaded a dozen apps to my ipad and iphone to help me keep track of shit, but I don't use any of them. It's like the lists I mentioned in my last entry - if I ever used them, my life would be a whole lot better. But I don't.

I feel another bitch session coming on, so let's get the food stuff out of the way first. I've been lousy at watching what I eat. I took four days off the shake, and I could tell a bit of a difference because I wasn't getting those two servings of fruit in. I did cook fajitas the other night. Prepped, shopped and cooked. And mostly cleaned too. Was pretty darn proud of myself. Last night - Wendy's chicken strips. :(

SIGH. And I've been away from the gym for almost six weeks now. With my shortness of breath lately, the idea of getting on a treadmill is scary. I need to get back there. I'll admit it - I felt good when I went. Not overly fantastic because let's face it, I'm still sick. But proud of myself, and it's not often I feel pride anymore. It's not often I feel anything positive anymore.

And here comes the rant:


I know what I need. It's a whole new life. I need a new job, one that doesn't make my brain feel like it's atrophied. I need a new body - and the only way that can happen is if I work to improve the one I've got. I need to travel, to do exciting things. And I need a new relationship - or at least I need to fix this one so it seems like new. There's just so much that's happened, so much that's gone on that I doubt it's ever going to be possible.

He'll never forgive my mistakes. He'll never like my friends. He'll never really trust me. Right there, that makes a case for a new relationship right? But I love him. And he knew Dad, and loved him. And no one will ever understand when I break down and cry over a Jimmy Buffet song like he will.

I'm just TIRED of being miserable. I've been in a serious funk for over a month now - hence my absence from the gym. And of course he doesn't buy it because I've gone out with my friends and had a good time. Or so he thinks. How does he know if he's not there? How does he know I'm not crying on people's shoulders? Of course I barely cry in front of anyone these days. When I do cry, I'm usually having imaginary conversations with him in the car, or talking to dad - in the car. Because it's the one place I'm truly physically alone. If I'm home alone, I never know what time anyone's coming home. Mom usually calls, but he won't. Because he's hoping to catch me doing something I'm not supposed to.

In his mind though, no matter what I actually AM doing, it's something against my marriage vows. Like if I'm playing a game on my iPad, he accuses me of chatting. Every night I set my phone alarm and he accuses me of texting my "boyfriend". I wish I had a boyfriend sometimes. Someone who'll treat me good with romance and love and not hostility and suspicion.

I know he loves me. I know he wants me. But I don't honestly know how much more of this I can take before I just lose it and take off. Every time I get in my car, I spend at least five minutes mentally calculating how much money I've got, how much gas, and how far I can get before running out of both. A few people I've talked to, are amazed that I haven't snapped yet. And these aren't the people I normally bitch to. I have one friend that I've been honest with as far as my mistakes, and his, go. She knows how things are at home. I've told her how much we relied on him to keep things going, to keep things clean, but then did nothing to help him.

She knows how mom & I sit on the couch and watch the shows from the PVR. She knows how much it annoys him too. She knows all about the abortions when I was younger. She knows about my miscarriages. She knows about how I feel about my bestie and new niece. And she understands when I tell her that I need to make the sacrifice worth it.

I'm so bloody bored now. With everything. Even security doesn't provide the same thrill that it once did. Maybe because I stopped taking the club shifts so I could be home earlier. I've never taken an overnight shift because of him. And to be honest, I never really got pissy about it, well, not after I got this job. Because once I had both jobs, I didn't need the hours. But as much as I love my security job, I need something to punch it up.

I'm not sleeping well. Even with OD'ing on melatonin. Because once I wake up in the middle of the night, for whatever reason - him trying for sex, his snoring in my ear, or having to pee - the affects dissipate and I'm up. Then I'm lying there, staring at the clock, wondering if I should take another one or just pray to fall asleep quickly. Neither really works. And with his high-ness (and I mean that literally cuz he smokes weed) passing out pretty easily, he doesn't get it. And he says I snore, and I know I do. But I'm willing to do something about it, like try that dental device I saw advertised on tv. He's not. I can't go the rest of my life like that. AND he hogs the bed. He starts out fine, but then stretches out diagonal, and there's no room for me. But when I try to nudge him over, he calls me a bitch. And when I DO sleep, I clench my jaw, so I'm constantly waking up with major headaches that sometimes develop into migraines.

I don't do my night time routine anymore. When I was sleeping alone, I did. I didn't have to worry about anyone saying anything negative. I brushed my teeth, washed my face, put on my moisturizing cream, exfoliated my hands, covered my zits, took my pills and yes, even did the damn eye cream (I know it hit me in the tub in July, but I was using it before hand, it just didn't hit me that I HAD to). But now, if I go to bed after him, I know I'm setting myself up for some form of comment.

Yeah, I kind of miss the days after dad died when I had the bed and a room to myself. It's not that I need privacy, like he seems to think. But the room is always a disaster, no matter what I try to do to clean it. I'm sick and tired of weed on the floor all the time. I'm tired of tripping over his clothes because he decides to step out of them wherever he feels like it. I'm tired of pee on the toilet seat AND on the floor.

I'm tired of the look in his eyes that tells me I'm useless. I'm tired of being called selfish, inconsiderate and mean. I'm tired of the way he treats me, like I'm stupid. Because then I start believing I am.

I haven't really written anything in months. I've toyed with a few things here and there, but every time I get an idea, I'd like to get down on paper, I freeze. I have a lap desk next to my bed that I should be able to pull out whenever I have an idea (because my lap has disappeared under fat), no matter what time of the night because I am an adult, and I can do these things. If I can't sleep, I should be able to go into the other room to watch tv without being accused of doing anything wrong. If I want to sit up and surf the net, I should be able to do that without dealing with crap. I'm an adult. I've earned the right to pretty much do what I want, as long as I'm not causing someone else physical harm. But I can't, because too much of what I do plays into his insecurities and his perceptions, and that hurts him emotionally. So I don't.

And I don't think I'll ever be able to.

I'm so stifled - my actions, my thoughts, my personality - it's ridiculous. And I know I brought it on myself, but really? He's holding on to all of it with both fists. And now, reading all this, I know the solution seems to be to split up. And when my heart no longer breaks at the thought of him gone, when I know for certain I won't regret it the rest of my life, maybe then I'll do it.

Because really, who needs to be happy & fulfilled?