Kendra cherry bomb me's blog: "Things that run thru my head"

to start... one of my favorite quotes

Tis not love's going hurts my days, but that it went in little ways.
-- Edna St. Vincent Millay

That said: the things that bring me down are not often large acts of intent and purpose but the cumulation of gentle neglect and unthought.  Even the largest act of intent and purpose has little tremors, whispering to me "beware, caution, take care" and yet in order to truly live and not merely survive at times I must ignore those tremors at first.  Take some caution yes but also ask myself are these tremors a foreshadow of things to come or merely the aftershocks from prior quakes.  And the worst part is when an innocent is caught in the cross fire.  Forced to deal with pain not of his making even though his actions contributed to the ache.  It has been a week of a thousand little arrows aimed and released making me feel like I'm not worth the effort and that I'm all alone trying to lift the world.  Over the years I have time and again shed burdens that got too heavy slimming down the number I undertake until today I only have myself to care for, although I strive to yet again get to the point where I am the rock in my boys' lives again.  Things you should never have to see/ hear:

• your 3 year old cry at the sound of your voice
• your 9 year old ask is he is ever going to see you again when you send him out of an unpleasant situation
• your child refuse to show that anything bothers him and yet time and again he gets into fights at school
• at a time when you feel the world would be better without you- be "reassured" that the kids are fine without you and any attempts to see them are rebuffed because well you're not "healthy" enough, even though you have never done anything that knowingly placed them in harm's way.

What can I say but... Stop the world I'd like to get off.

And to make matters worse, some days I just don't want to be me.  *sigh* An unrelenting sense of honor and fair play isn't the most comfortable or cuddle friend when all you really want is the sweet release of unending blackness.  But I gave my word and made promises, yes it would be easier if only I didn't have such a problem with breaking it.  *sigh*  But as I first began to live and not just survive years ago I determined that it doesn't matter what others think, say, or do because you can't please everyone.  What matters in the end is your actions and words.  Did I act in a manner consistant with the person I know myself to be?  Did I attempt to act and behave in ways that are consistant with who I am?  If making a big decision; did I take in all factors?  Will I be ashamed to meet my own eyes in the mirror about my actions?  I have often been told that my unbending sense of honor and unwillingness to comprimise about those things most important to me will leave me old and alone.  And yet as much as I hate being alone the idea of changing the very basic elements that make me who I am is abhorent.  Yes, I am working on some aspects of myself but we are all a work in progess and if you are not stretching yourself to be more you are slidding down the slope to being less.  I would rather stand alone with my honor then be a part of a group and steal my heart against shame.  That being said it is rather sad to be stuck in the position of praying and wishing that the morning never dawns because my word doesn't allow me to do anything more then lust wistfully after the sweet release of never.  And then the dawn whispers across my window and I realize that I am still here and my prayer was yet again not answered.  Whispers in the night of "Please, please just stop my heart, stop my brain, stop my breath.  Now I lay me down to sleep I pray the Lord my soul to take, Please let me die before I wake."  Held helpless by vows to do anything more then wish as the pain rakes across my body and the thoughts chase across my mind. 

• You're nothing
• I'm too needy, it's unreasonable and unfair to expect anyone to deal with this
• I only hurt people who get close to me
• If only I were dead they could grieve, get over it, and get on with their lives without the constant drama of me
• At the end of the day it's been proved time and again that I'm not worth people trying for
• If I don't make the effort, then it doesn't get made.
• I'm tired of hurting
• I'm tired of trying
• I'm tired of fucking up

Each day I live with the pain of being me knowing that no matter what I do it's not right.  If I ask for help and consideration I'm being needy and unreasonable.  If I do things on my own I'm being too stubborn and unreasonable.  If I get down on my knees and beg I get told that I'm being overly dramatic and needy and trying to guilt people into doing things and because of these things no help is given.  If I struggle on my own and try to keep ahead of things but slowly and surely fall under as I weary from treading water I get told I'm just needed to learn to unbend and ask for help, because it would have been given.