Bad

How do I get past the bad? That is really my goal. Don't get me wrong I have a lot of goals,
get organized, loose weight, blah blah blah. Really I just want to get past the bad in my head, my heart. I don't want the pain. I don't want the sad. I don't want the nervous questioning of myself constantly. It is such a tiresome load. I want to live, I am so afraid I am going to die.
I want to plan for my future, but I don't know how. I don't know how to get past this day. Each and every day. Maybe there really is something wrong with me, mentally, of course, and all of this is "normal" for crazy people. When my daughter and son are under the same roof as me I feel safer. Sad, but true. How do I feel safe in my own skin? Is that ever possible?

What is the point of being mean, angry . . . just plain nasty? Does that mean that the person that is this way just so unhappy within themselves that they feel it necessary to spew their venom all over the rest of the "happy" in their lives? I am generally a "happy" person, and even when I'm not, I try not to take out the rest of the world. X just generally seems to be an unhappy person. I ask a question, not a big deal, not a question like "can you give me a kidney?" just a question like "what do you want for dinner?" and then BAM! I get raked over the coals, lambasted - wtf - "Are you stupid? why do you need to ask me that? I'm busy right now and can't think about that! (btw he's just driving-not even in traffic - just driving) WHY WOULD YOU BOTHER ME WITH THAT RIGHT NOW!!!!!!" I try to say "i just was" and I get "I don't give a shit what you are saying, SHUT UP, why would you call me and bother me!" end of discussion, I hang up the phone. Does he hate me so much that he just has to be nasty all of the time? Why do I care? What is wrong with me that I have to feel somehow his behavior is justified. Because I am somehow someway so damaged that the only thing I deserve is this kind of treatment. The shit of it is that when he walks thru the door he will act as if nothing happened. Then look at me and say "Meatloaf?" I will say "yep" and he will say something like "I'm not in the mood for that, can you fix me something else" - I at this point will literally want to throw the meatloaf at him, but no, I will just turn around, push the tears down, push the anger down, and fix him something else. What is wrong with me? I am truly a screwed up tortured person, but honestly I think I'm the one torturing myself.

I HATE CHANGE . . .

With that being said, yes, I will admit, I am hardcore against change. I realize that change is good. But that doesn't mean for one second that I have to like it. Its hard, its scary . . . it just really sucks. Looking back, I have fought change from the time I was very little. There must be something really screwed up deep, very deep, within me - I truly almost go into complete meltdown. Of course I have learned how to hide it better, push it down, but that doesn't mean it isn't there. I used to believe, I could push the pain down so far, that it was gone. Not figuritively, really truly gone. I have come to realize that it is never gone, it is always with me. The pain hovers around me, wherever I go, whatever I do. How do I get rid of it? Do I really want to get rid of it? What happens then? Can I actually be one of those people who are so ok within themselves? I doubt it, but maybe thru this - getting my feelings down in a place that no one cares, no one reads, I will somehow be able to work thru everything. Why is that necessary? To "WORK" thru the shit that was so painful, that I didn't want to live thru it at the time, now it has somehow become necessary to relive it. Isn't that sick? Isn't that somehow just making things worse? Well I don't know, and pushing it down, ignoring it isn't working (which by the way is extremely annoying). I don't even really know where to start. The begining - when would that have been. The first time that I was molested? The first time I was told they were so disappointed that I was a girl when I was born? Fastforward when my mom got cancer? when my mom died? when my dad got sick, when he died. When I was so scared, scared doesn't even describe how I felt as I was fighting for my life and so relieved, yet scared when I was left on that dark and desolate country road, when I was petrified, litteraly that my children (and me) would be killed? When I realized that it didn't matter if I was dead as long as my children were alive. When I realized that no matter what I was unlovable, I am broken beyond repair. I think that would be the place to start, but damn it! Thats just way to fucking painful! I miss my mom and dad soooo much, I miss my kids (yes my kids are alive, and healthy and WONDERFUL!!! I am so PROUD OF THEM!) but I miss them needing me, and being around all the time. Maybe this is some wacked out hormone problem that I am having, but that is doubtful. I can't deal - I have to go.