Well fuck....Here I am

    If we back this trolly train up, I have been slowly dying over the past 10 years. Emotionally dying. Probably longer, but we will just say 10 years. I can honestly say with my whole heart that the only reason I am alive today is because of my kids. I can honestly say that about several days. The number of times I was in the kitchen at the house getting life ready for everyone else, I just wanted to take the knife I was cutting meat with and stab myself; is more fingers than I have. Today, was another one of those days. Has your heart ever hurt so bad that your eyes well up with tears, but you can't cry, all the blood rushes to your face, your jaw clenches, you feel completely... empty, like you want to scream but you can't, you want a hug but you don't want anyone to touch you or talk to you, you can't eat, you can't sleep? The weight of that emptiness if suffocating you? It's just absolutely overwhelming. So over whelming that you try to outrun it, you try to out-shower it, you try to out drink it, but all you can do is feel its weight. That me, that is me right now and that has been me several days for several years.  

    I am not going to get into the specifics of my marriage, but I most definitely felt like a married single mom. I have a great career; I say career because I can retire 2027.  It pays well, middle class well, I met my husband when I was 18 leaving what was not the best childhood ever. Married him when I was 22, I look back now and wish I would have listened to myself and trusted myself every time my intuition gut punched me, but I didn't and here I am. Of course it wasn't all bad by any means, we both have good jobs and built a beautiful modest house in the country with an absolutely stunning view. I feel like I have been living for other people for so long; I lived for my parents, I lived for my brothers, I lived for my friends, I lived for my husband, I lived for my kids, but I never lived for me. I would really like to attribute that realization to my last three bosses. Outstanding leaders and what I would consider great friends, all of them older than me by 10 or more years. I watched how these men just fell in love...in love with their wives every day, over and over and over. I was stunned, like are there people out there like that, is that real, can you actually feel that way, can you actually be treated that way? There was a self-reflection kick in the vag. I feel like I waisted many of my prime years being hidden away at work, hidden away at home, saving money, minimal fun, minimal friends. Roommates with my husband, oh...but kids will make it better, he will love me more if I birth him children. Yep, kids don't make it better and for all the beauty that childbirth is supposed to be...no thank you.  I never felt the love they show in the movies during pregnancy, delivery or post-partum. I felt like a vessel, like a leaking, doughy, fat vessel, that now has to juggle more shit.  I do love the kids more than life itself, but damn was it tough.

    Fast forward to threeish years ago and some life changing events happened to my husband, for better or worse I stuck by him. But I also started to have real friends, real girlfriends, like grown-ass beautiful women and men that were incredible to be around and my eyes started opening a little more, maturity also probably played some roll in this journey to a shitty apartment and shitty car but non the less, I started to really open my eyes to what I was missing...me.  I was missing me. I'm still missing me, but I will find her eventually, I hope. 

    I told my husband I was all but done about 11 months ago, I didn't want to be, but I felt like I had been screaming at the top of my lungs for years to give a fuck and this was, I guess, my last-ditch effort to try to hang on to a sting of hope. Play forward a couple months after and I called it, I couldn't do it anymore. I agreed to stay through the holidays (that was a TERRIBLE mistake, but we will get there on another day), moved out early 2024. Why you ask did the mom move out, well, my job will require me to be gone a lot over the next couple years, his job is way more flexible and for the kids it makes more sense to both of us that he stayed at the house. So, I found a cheap apartment (hence the "shitty" part), I have been driving this shitty car for a while (it's not going anywhere any time soon) and now I wonder every time I park in the parking lot, how the fuck I got here and what the hell am I going to do next. I worry about divorce, bills (holy fuck do I worry about money), my kids, the house, my job..I feel like I am back to being 20 years old, in a shitty apartment driving shitty car wondering what the hell am I going to do. I should not feel like this at this age. 

   This is not a bitch session, okay, it's a little bit of bitch session but who cares?  I can't be the only one that feels this way, am I?  Am I the only parent that sometimes needs to beer and time out from their own kids because they are just being assholes?  The only person that is trying to figure out how to pay for everything, be well balanced at work, drink water, eat healthy (as I am currently smashing a 20pc nugget with a side of Coors Banquets), trying to tan, trying to be fit, trying to just fucking make it through life? Like damn it, why don't I have this figured out by now. Well...I don't.

    I want this to be safe place to vent your real feelings, a place you can spill your guts, to embrace freedom of judgement, man or woman, cat or dog, or number or whatever other kind of things are out there now, because you are not alone. I don't have FB, a Twitter, a in or WhatsApp for this page that I know of, but hell I was just trying to figure out how to make this blog.