The Voices Aren’t in My Head

I’ve seen psychologists and psychiatrist for over a decade now, but I’m finally starting to realize that I’ve never actually needed them. I’m not going mad, depressed, or anything for that matter. I’m simply a person who has a very stressful fucking life who lives in a household with a husband and two children who do not respect me. They don’t intentionally do it; it happens because I allowed it to happen for so many years without speaking up for myself; I was too fucking submissive. I got lost in this world of “good mother and wife” that failed to stand up and say “what the fuck? I matter too”. I was too busy focusing all my energy making sure that their lights of life were shining bright that I didn’t even realize mine was being robbed of all its life force. I had vanished. I ‘ve changed so much from who I was that I don’t even like myself anymore. I’m not talking about physical appearance, of course that has changed, but my personality, my interest, my passions, and goals I’s all gone. 

This sounds so cliché. Maybe I’m having my midlife crisis already, but if that is what this is then I welcome it. I’m tired of always taking the hit for the team and saying that I’m having psychological issues. No, I’m not having psychological issues, I’m just surrounded by assholes that don’t give a fuck about me even though I’ve sacrificed my whole life for them. I won’t through my son into the same basket though, he is not guilty by association, it’s only my husband and my daughter that have not sympathy or empathy for what I do for them. My son, he is my only sunshine in this hell that I call home. 

My home is not the physical abusive type of home. There are no drugs, alcohol, internet porn, or infidelity. We are pretty stable nuclear type family. We eat all of our dinners together, we spend most of our free time together, and I can count on one hand how many major arguments we have in a year, but we are still dysfunctional. My daughter who is almost thirteen has ADHD, and my husband does as well. My son has a touch of a depressive mode so he is more like me, but he also has a little ADHD (without the behavioral issues we experience with our daughter).

I can’t really put my finger on what makes this home so bad. Maybe it is my MED student husband who is constantly feeling the need to micromanage every single thing everyone does in the house, or my daughter who thinks that everything is a debate and that she has this god given right to argue about we tell her to do. Or maybe it’s just a matter of being broke all the time since both my husband and I are students, income is not strong in the home, in fact it is almost non-existent. Being older students with children on very fixed small budgets is very challenging, and stressful. In a few years I’m sure I’ll look back at all these blogs and laugh at how mad was about such trivial issues. It’s just a good way to vent I guess.

I'm Not Crazy...You're The One That's Crazy and Driving Me Crazy!

Pretty fucking catchy, but totally not mine. The title is from a Suicidal Tendency song awesome 80's band that I grew up listening to. 

This is not going to be a well written blog, by some yuppie that has too much time on their hands so they decided to take up blogging.

My blog is about me being able to freely express myself however I want, about whatever I want, without having to be socially acceptable and polite.  I don't want to abide by any rules or grammar structures while doing so either because it ruins my train of thought. I have a lot of shit to complain about and I really just want to let it all out.

Like just then, my husband decided to interject right in the middle of my mad typing session.  I had a perfect train of thought going on, but he decided to start talking about his random bullshit.  Really? I know he heard me typing.  Did it even cross his mind that I might not want to be interrupted at that moment, or did he just think that he was more important than whatever I possibly had going on? I guess I'll never know the honest answer to that question because even if I fucking asked, he would give me some kind bullshit "why are you so fucking bitchy" response. I wish we could be more honest and direct sometimes. 

I politely explained to him how I was trying to type something up and his constant interruptions were making me lose my train of thought, and he rudely told me that I need to learn to speak up because I shouldn't expect the world to read my thoughts. While that makes sense, I find it offensive at the same time.  I want us to be open and direct but I would rather do it without the side of bitch it that makes sense. I explained my point honest and direct without the attitude, he came back with a bitchy "I have my panties in a bunch" attitude.