To Be or Not to Be
Posted June 13, 2010on:
There are days when I just do not want to be. If there was a big hole I’d crawl into and disappear forever.
There are days when I feel like a complete failure. As a woman. As a mother. As a wife. As a daughter.
Failure = me.
There are days when I know that whatever I have planned. Whatever I say. Whatever I do. Whatever I feel. Will be wrong.
There are days when I know that nearly everything I have done is wrong. That I am everything that is wrong.
These are the days that I fantasize about not being.
A tree. A bridge. Something quick. Because I’m a wimp. Something painless because I don’t like pain.
I’ll never do it. I believe it is the ultimate act of selfishness. I do not want my final act to be something else that is wrong. That will cause more grief and pain to the people I love. So I am stuck. With this blanket of despair and this stabbing pain in my heart. Knowing that I will always be inadequate. That I have failed to live up to expectations. That I caused pain. That I ruined everything.
This is when I turn to food. Food doesn’t judge me. It doesn’t want an explanation. It doesn’t try to read between the lines of what I say. It doesn’t hear things that I don’t say or take words I say and twist them into something they are not. It doesn’t accuse. It doesn’t subjugate. It is simply there for me to drown in. To savor. To consume. It gives me something else to think about instead of the wrongness that is me.
Today I am not turning to food. I do not want to. I don’t know what I will do. Wallow in this self-pity?
I hate feeling like this. I hate being misunderstood. I hate not knowing what I’m supposed to do or what I’m supposed to say to make it all better. I wish I could just dissolve and take all references of me away so that others wouldn’t have to be reminded of what I am.
Would they be better off without me? They wouldn’t be worse off without me.
I love my kids. I have failed them too. They don’t deserve a bat-crazy mom. I wish I could roll back the clock and do it all over again. Correct all the horrible mistakes I made. Show them how important they are. Now they are grown. About to go out on their own. It’s too late. It’s too late. All I can say is that I tried. I tried to give all I had. I didn’t know what I was supposed to do. I didn’t know and now it’s too late. I would take it all back it I could. All the hurt. All the pain. All the mistakes.
I keep making them.
And Over again.
This will pass. But the layers are building. How long can it last? How many layers does it take before it can’t take anymore. Before I can’t take anymore.
Today will be hard. Tomorrow will be easier. But the pain and guilt and hate will be just below the surface waiting for the crack to widen.