Tuesday, October 14, 2014

Not All Bad Days

I feel like I only ever think to write when the days are crappy, and I've decided that that is no bueno. Not every day sucks, and, in fact, a lot of them are great. Things are so much different now than they were a few months ago, and that's pretty strange to get used to.

Our house has walls. WALLS. The concrete blocks are up, and there is plumbing laid but not connected to anything. I can see where my garage is going to be, and how big the backyard is. While just in concrete, it looks really small, but it's not. The optical illusion is pretty crazy though. 

That house will be ours in February. Then, it's just a matter of moving in and getting settled. Right now, we're pretty well settled (though still trying to find our way) into the mostly unused upstairs of my mother's house. It's a pretty good place up here. The rooms aren't huge, but we're surviving. We have all three dogs with us, and my brother's dog makes an appearance. 

For now, we're all getting along and trying to be helpful. Hopefully, that stays the same. It should. We've been here a month without any major problem. That's a pretty good sign, right?

So, yeah, that's a good check in because I feel like this space needed it. Not everything is bad or unfortunate. It just feels like it sometimes.

As always, it's hip to be square [and surviving!], kids. 

Tuesday, October 7, 2014

Turning Inward

I got invited to your child's birthday party, but I declined.

I am beckoned to congratulate you on baby number three, but I'm staying away. 

I got asked when we're having children, and husband jumped in and weaseled our way out of it.

I'm turning inward because that's the only place that feels right. 

And I'm done feeling like a bad person for it. 

I feel bad enough about all of this that I won't feel bad for doing what I need to do to get my life back in order after these years that have ripped me apart and shaken everything that I thought was a given in life. 

There are things that good people do, and I'm not doing them. 

I'm refusing to believe that makes me a bad person.

I'm also done caring about how my reactions to your news affect my status in The Universe.

I'm done wanting to be a better person who handles this better than I have. 

You know what? I haven't cried in public. I haven't told anyone to fuck off when they shared more good news that made me hurt inside. I haven't hurt anyone's feelings. I haven't made my burden anyone else's. I haven't cried myself to sleep every night. I haven't tried to change anyone else.

I think that's handling the damn thing.

I've turned inward because it's comfortable here, and I'm so fucking tired of being uncomfortable. I'm so tired of trying to figure out what life is going to be like without all of the things that we have dreamed out. None of that is comfortable, and none of it ever ends.

And I'm sorry that I still don't want to hear your good news.

Wait. I'm not. 

I'm not sorry. I feel like I should be sorry, but I'm not. 

I'm just not there yet.

Sorry, I'm not sorry. 

If you need me, I'll be inside.

As always, it's hip to be square, kids.

Saturday, September 13, 2014

Who Do I Talk To?

When you're a writer, and you have a place to put your words, sometimes you have to put them there right away because you know otherwise they'll be forever gone.

I'm in the throws of moving, but I had an inspiration, and it will disappear if I don't get to it soon. 

Meanwhile, there are boxes EVERYWHERE.


I'm that person who calls in for customer service and, when not getting anywhere says,  "I want to talk to your supervisor." I don't ask for anything that I'm not entitled to, but I will go up the chain until the situation is fixed.

Maybe the fact that I'm not scared to fight for what I want is what makes this so difficult.

I was just putting a box together and looking at the announcement for yet another person's baby. It was going in the garbage. Not in an "I don't want to look at this way," but in a "my life is going in storage and I'm not paying to store a picture of someone else's kid," way.

And I wondered:

Where is whoever is in charge of this process's supervisor? Who do I talk to? Because I want someone on the phone now who will explain to me why it's been three years, and I'm still waiting. Why sometimes it's fine and other times it's just not. Why sometimes I'm thankful for a child free existence, and then it hits me like a ton of bricks and hurts everywhere like the punches just don't stop coming.  Why I know someone who is bragging about waiting to get knocked up with baby number three while I'm coming to terms with never having one. While I may have to spend thousands and thousands of dollars for the CHANCE at having one of my own, and others get to have way too many for free. 

Today, all of a sudden and out of nowhere, I'm struggling.

My semi-religious upbringing would tell me that there is someone to talk to who is always listening.

Yeah, well, I'm not so sure of that right now.

I mean, I am. I'm not overly religious, but I cling to my spirituality as the last shred of decency I am capable of as the last few years continue to be hard. But, let me tell you, I've been talking and asking and begging and pleading and thanking for all of the perfect things in my life, and that's not getting me any closer to actually having the one thing that I would do just about anything for.

No one is listening. 

Can someone go back and listen to the recording of these calls? I just wanted on record that I asked to speak to a supervisor, but I was ignored. Are these calls recorded for quality assurance?

It feels silly to keep asking. It is silly to keep asking. Someone had to have heard me by now, and they would have already done it if they were going to do anything about it.

Who is your boss's boss?


As always, it's hip to be square, kids. 

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