The last few days, shit, even weeks have been incredibly difficult for me. I feel like this is all just one big nightmare and I want to wake up and it was all just a dream. Never in my life have I felt so lost, so stuck, so trapped, so wrong, so emotional, so angry, and so empty. I don’t enjoy things like I used to anymore.  I feel I just don’t enjoy life at all anymore. I am tired all the time, and would rather stay in bed and hide then to go out and be presentable to the world, like society thinks I should be.

This weekend was rough. Maybe I make this all up and I create my own feelings, which I know to an extent is true, but I honestly can’t tell anymore. Saturday he works now, all day (until 3pm). I chose to stay home and clean the house. For only the 12^th time that week.  Cleaning the same mess I cleaned each time. All day long I got the silent treatment. I sent text after text, with nothing in response. I started to feel guilty, should I go out and hang out with him at work just to please him? To be honest, that brings me no joy at all. I finally heard from him, and then I knew he was mad. Some people think “how do you get that from his text”? walk a day in my shoes and you will understand. His text said “what’s your email so I can register you for this race, if you want to do it still that is”. Alright, there it is, Woe is mes. When he came home, he just drank and smoked weed. I guess I should be used to this by now, right?

Sunday, we were supposed to go to church. I woke up early, ran to the store to get some stuff for breakfast, then came home and started cleaning the same kitchen I spent an hour on the day before cleaning. I cooked breakfast and set it up on the table. I told him breakfast was ready and I waited. He said for me to put it in the fridge, that he needed to cut down his plant. I sat there eating breakfast thinking “what could I have done better? I woke up, cleaned, make him breakfast (even healthy breakfast at that) and all he wants to do is cut down his weed plant”. I continued to feel like shit for a while. Later that day we drove around running some errands. He continued to yell at passing drivers calling them fat bitches, dumb bitches, fucking idiots, blah blah blah.

Why? How can someone be so fucking angry with the world that he yells at undeserving people? And worst of all, thinks it’s morally okay?

That afternoon he began cooking and kept dropping stuff (he was drunk and stoned) and would lash out. Slamming stuff around, cursing really loud and sighing like it was the end of the world. When he would slam stuff around I would jump. Then that made him madder. He started screaming saying “why do you always assume that when I am mad, that it’s you? You cower like a child and start to cry and make it all about you?”. I started crying even more.  He said I ruin his days.

I don’t mean to react this way, I think it’s just second nature.

I started drinking. I don’t drink, but it was my only escape. He ended up getting more stoned, and calmed down and was all nice. I took a shower, and cried on the shower floor.

How did I get here? Not just with him, but my life. I wasn’t raised this way to just tolerate this behavior. But I feel so lost that I can’t reach up for air, nor do I feel I want to.

Word vomit, thank you for letting me get it out.