Written: 2/21/19

The worst thing in the world, I have found, is not being able to voice what you feel in the moments that are most crucial.  Recently I have been feeling the lull of winter and it's unbidden presence.  I say things like "I'm over it!", "This weather sucks",  or "I've got a seasonal depression funk going on".  While all these things are understood without many words, it goes far deeper than they sound.

I feel like crying.  I feel like hiding under the sheets and blankets and not coming back out for a long, long time.  I have this feeling of isolation in the midst of people.  I want to be alone, but I hate being lonely.  I want to be held... I want to be hugged, cuddled, hand held...  but I don't want to sleep that way.  I want to sleep..soundly.

I want a complete do-over on life... like I just want to get it right the next time or something.  My perfectionist self is exploding.  My laissez faire side is exploding.  I am stuck in the middle of one of the worst times I have felt in a long time.  I can't say no.  I can't get off the roller coaster.  I want to take care of who I want to take care of and no one else, but I can't choose.  That's not allowed.

I am in pain.  Physical pain every day exhausts me.  I am tired of being tired and hurting.  Every ounce of my body hurts always. I am so used to it now, that I don't realize it until it starts screaming. I adjust. I move and the pain lightens.  Only to return later.

I am a poor excuse for a wife.  I can't keep my head straight.  I can't think straight.  I should love my husband unconditionally, but my brain is so distracted by so many other things, and humans.  I am a mess physically.  I can't perform the way I used to.  I don't want things like I used to and it shows.  I feel like I am walking through the motions.  Emotions.

No kisses. No hugs. I am only always and ever will be used. He doesn't love me.  He loves the idea of me.  The me that cooks and cleans and manages everything with complete ease.  The me that he wants to have fantasy sex with all the time. Every time.  The me who doesn't need words of affirmation, signs and gestures of affections.  The me who has got it all under control and doesn't look anywhere else to fill her empty soul.  The me who has this mom thing down pat and knows just what to say every time. The me who waits on him hand and foot, does all the laundry and  makes all the money, so he can stay home.

This is the unbearable weight on my shoulders.

I am only here for others. No one is here for me.  I am and always will be an island.  I was misnamed from birth.  Amanda:Beloved/ Mandy: Worthy of Love.

What a crock of shit.

For the love of Fucking Grapes... I just want to hold someone's hand, hug them, be held, be warm and snug, safe, loved, wanted, and looked after.  I want someone else to do it.  I don't want to do it anymore.  I want to stop the madness and start over.