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I don't like confronting the reality of my life.

At all.

When I do? I can't help but regret. Regret, regret, regret. I think one of the biggest regrets I have, was letting my parents find out about 'what happened' when I was a kid. I think that was probably the single stupidest thing I've ever done. I don't know how I deluded myself into thinking it was a good idea. All it did was hurt people.

I often wish things could be how they were. No, they weren't ideal. But we were all getting along just fine. And it's not like I was thinking about it every day or hurting over it all the time or something.. I gained nothing but a big set back from letting it out. And for what?? I mean.. honestly.

I realize that I wasn't even talking to my brother to begin with. I hadn't heard from him since we'd moved a year before. But I was at least communicating amicably with my sister in law.. and still do, on occasion. But things are... awkward. And now? I couldn't just call him up and say 'hello' if I wanted to. I wish I could. I had no desire to hurt him. And I had no desire to ruin what relationship we had with him and his family.

I'll never know why he's grown so distant and aloof toward our family, and especially me, over the years. I hope it's just 'who he is'. But, whatever. The damage is done, I suppose. No fixing it now.

I also further damaged my parents' view of me as a person. I think that's a bit harder to swallow. I finally felt like we had a real relationship, like I could really trust them and be open with them.. After my husband's affair, they had been so supportive and caring and non-judging. They really helped get me through a VERY hard time. Yes, that 'hard time' was partly to blame for trudging up my yucky past.. but why shed light on it to everyone else? Like I said, dumb mistakes. But hey, thinking about childhood crap sure was a nice break from thinking about my husband's betrayal. Perhaps that's why I suddenly turned so much focus and attention to it, it helped me avoid the bigger issues in my life.

And now my parents and I are right back to where we were.

I'm so glad that I'm such a loner. So thankful that I am so accustomed to keeping everything in and not talking about all the things that go through my head.

But now, I feel so crazy sometimes. I read stories about other people and bad things that have happened to them and something stirs within me. Something that wants to get out. I don't know what it is, and I don't want to. And it makes me feel crazy, cause there isn't anything that should be there wanting to come out. Does that even make sense? ... See what I mean?

Yeah.

Someday, I'll have a time machine. I can go back and undo all this and just start over. Or perhaps I will just have amnesia and wake up far away from here.. I suppose the latter is more realistic.

I'm not sure exactly what I intend this post to be.. only that I felt the need to say what's on my mind.

Each day I seem to fool myself into thinking everything is okay. I don't really see anything wrong with this until little bits of ugliness come popping up. I'm trying to live each day for itself and, if I could, I would erase the past from my memory so that I could simply make new memories.

Slowly, bit by bit, I'm dissociating myself 'now' with myself 'then'. I don't want anything to do with my past or 'the old me'. All of my memories are tainted and I can't help but wish they were different every time they come to mind. It sucks.

Lately it's been a bit of a struggle.

People we know have added little ones to their families. I know that I should be excited and rejoicing with them.. but I have no interest. I don't want to see them or their children or say how wonderful it is that they have been blessed with these little people. I have a hard time even thinking that they are even blessings.

All that comes to mind is 'I hope things go better for them than they have for me'.

Part of why I wonder why I'm even posting on this blog is because by doing so it makes me think. It makes me think of the negative things in my life that I associate with this blog. I don't want to think about them. I don't want to acknowledge that they even exist.

I'm just a normal happy mother of 5, with normal day to day frustrations to deal with. Normal happy life with normal average problems. Nothing to see here.. move along.

But I guess that's not really true?

I feel bad for my kids.

It makes me mad.

I need to stop thinking about it because I always come to the conclusion that they would be so much better off with someone else. I know that no one else can see that, cause they're all blind or something.. but I'm a shitty mother and it seems that no matter how hard I try I can clean up this mess of things that I have made and be better.

No child deserves to grow up in a home like this.

I hate them.
How they sneak up on you and overtake you.. like an attack from an enemy.

I was doing the dishes today.. and memories came flooding in like a dark wave, cold and looming. Sure, I heard it coming.. I heard it coming a long way off. I just couldn't get out of the way in time.

All that time we spent standing in the kitchen, talking about things.. it is starting to take it's toll on me.

This time, it was the memory of you taunting me, teasing me.. almost encouraging me.. suggesting I go out and have my own affair. At the time, I think you had a lot of reasons for saying it. Some conscious, some subconscious. I know that consciously you were trying to prove a point, you were trying to tell me I was worth while.. but it was NOT the way to go about such a task. Oh, no..

"It's not fair.. I couldn't even have an affair if I wanted to."
"Why would you say that?"
"Lots of reasons. I have no way of meeting anyone, for starters.. and then there's the fact that I have no money of my own, no transportation of my own, and simply no way of sneaking around without you knowing."
"You could always have someone over."
"I have 5 kids, stupid."
"Yeah.."
"Besides, I highly doubt that anyone would even want to have an affair with me."
"What's that supposed to mean?"
"Look at me."
"What?.. You're hot!"
"Whatever."
"You are. I see people look at you."
"And what.. cringe?"
"Far from it."

And then you said it.. You said I should do it.. You said I should try and snag someone. Said I could surely find some hot rich guy that would gladly rescue me from you. I didn't want to be rescued from you.. I wanted you to want me. I wanted you to look twice, not someone else. I wanted to be worthwhile to you.. to be worth fighting for.

I still wonder sometimes.. if something were to happen.. would you fight for me? Would you put up a fight if I wanted to leave? Every time I expressed interest in leaving over the past year, you seemed all to eager to just let me go 'if it was what I wanted'.. I just don't understand that. Any more than I can understand how shocked you were over the way I fought to keep you here. You always tell me that if I really want to go, you'll let me. Because you just want me to be happy. But it doesn't make sense to me. I always imagined that I had married someone who would be ready to beat another man's ass for looking twice, not one that would be willing to bid me farewell and wish me much happiness..

I hope that's changed.