It's finally time. I have to start tonight. These thoughts have been trying to get out for weeks now. They were eating through my eyes as I scrubbed the food stains off of 30 year old rust colored velour seat cushions, attached to rattan and brass frames. I had to clean up the juice and cheese that my three boys spilt at dinner before my mother came down and caught me in some sort of "leisure" activity like blogging about dragging a razor blade repeatedly across my forearms just so I can breathe. Even now, I can hear the dirty dishes in the sink taunting and laughing at the passive aggressive punishment that is inevitable before I finish this post.
No, I'm not an unwed teen mother. I'm 38 years old. I have been married for 8 years but had to trade our family's home for a pittance of child support after my husband and I separated. My boys and I now live with my mother who has been single for the better part of the past 20 years. I am in the darkest place in my life and have had to move back to what I previously thought was the darkest place in my life. It is defeating to say the least. On good days, it's a struggle not to wish for a coma that I would wake from, as said in a popular song, "when I'm older and wiser." Why am I an adult teenager? That is such a long discussion, and I don't want to lose all my readers on the first post. But let's just start by saying that today I was "shhh"ed by my mother while disciplining my own child, and was told not to drive to fast in the rain as she monitored the speedometer the entire trip.
I was not a cutter when I was a teenager. I'm not sure why other than my life was so sheltered I had never even heard of it. Had I even the slightest inkling of it's existence, I would now bare the scares of at least 25 years. I have stopped counting the days since it began, as it now seems like it was always comforting me. However, they are marked in merely weeks at this point. I don't know why my mind has chosen this for relief. That is something I struggle with everyday. Why do I think it helps me? Why does it help me?
No, I'm not an unwed teen mother. I'm 38 years old. I have been married for 8 years but had to trade our family's home for a pittance of child support after my husband and I separated. My boys and I now live with my mother who has been single for the better part of the past 20 years. I am in the darkest place in my life and have had to move back to what I previously thought was the darkest place in my life. It is defeating to say the least. On good days, it's a struggle not to wish for a coma that I would wake from, as said in a popular song, "when I'm older and wiser." Why am I an adult teenager? That is such a long discussion, and I don't want to lose all my readers on the first post. But let's just start by saying that today I was "shhh"ed by my mother while disciplining my own child, and was told not to drive to fast in the rain as she monitored the speedometer the entire trip.
I was not a cutter when I was a teenager. I'm not sure why other than my life was so sheltered I had never even heard of it. Had I even the slightest inkling of it's existence, I would now bare the scares of at least 25 years. I have stopped counting the days since it began, as it now seems like it was always comforting me. However, they are marked in merely weeks at this point. I don't know why my mind has chosen this for relief. That is something I struggle with everyday. Why do I think it helps me? Why does it help me?
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