I haven't blogged in a long, long time. I'm not sure I even care to be blogging now, to be honest. I just know I need to get things out of my head and frankly I can type faster than I can write in a journal. So here goes.
Perhaps a check in is the best format for this.
Where am I physically? I'm 36, married with two kids ages almost 9 and 11.5. 3 cats, 1 house, 1 job. Living in the suburbs of Detroit and working in the city. Sober 3.5 years. Husband unemployed nearly 6 months now, so wearing the mantle of sole provider for the household, minus his unemployment contribution. I suffer from near-constant pain, from sciatica and other health problems. I don't sleep well, or exercise, or eat right. I'm kind of a mess.
Where am I mentally? Here I know I'm the biggest mess. I'm tired of life and all the stress it brings. I'm tired of making it through one day at a time. I'm tired of dealing with problems. I'm tired of jumping hurdles and running races. I'm tired of working too hard for too little pay. I'm tired of pain. I have so much resentment and anger that it's making me miserable, not just to myself but to the people around me, to my kids and husband.
I resent that I am the sole earner. I know that finding a job is tough and that my husband is trying but I feel like he hasn't been trying hard enough. I resent that I have to nag him every. single. day. to get things done. Make a car payment, call the bank, do the taxes, cook dinner. I resent that he hasn't picked up much slack around the house. I feel if I were out of work I'd be busting my butt to keep the house clean, the family fed, the work done. I know he's depressed, and has a host of physical health issues himself, but I can't help but be annoyed when I walk through the door at 5 after a day of intense work and the dinner isn't made, the kitchen isn't cleaned, and he hasn't done any of the things he said he would do that day.
I resent my job, they pay me peanuts and I've got more responsibilities than any one person should have.
I resent my kids, though I hate to admit it. I resent the energy they need from me, the way they take so much for granted, how messy and irresponsible they are.
Sometimes I resent my sobriety, because if I could drink I could make all this go away for a little while. But I know that is not an option, so I keep plugging on, day after day. And I resent that too.