>> Saturday, April 2, 2011
When things aren't going great, I have a tendency to hide. I stop returning phone calls from friends and family. I avoid facebook. I even shy away from the blog. The main reason is that I often feel like everybody's life is going better than mine. I am jealous, but more than that, I am embarassed. I don't want people to look at me and think "what a train wreck," or "thank God that's not me." I have realized lately, though, that this is probably the main reason why aside from my husband, I am essentially alone.
People have tried to befriend me, but I am too ashamed to let them into my life. I don't want them to know that our housing is subsidized, so I don't invite them over. I don't want to answer questions about how I'm doing, so I just don't call them back. I'm sure they are offended by my lack of reciprocity, but the fact is, I just always feel like I have nothing to offer and nothing to say. I don't want to return someone's call and be a total bummer about the fact that my life is totally out of my control. I don't want to be the friend they pity.
My life embarasses me. My job embarasses me. I don't want people to know that I got a degree and have a degrading, minimum wage job. I don't want them to know that we have no money, yet are on our SECOND unplanned pregnancy. I don't want them to know that our car was costing us too much money in constant repairs, so we are stuck taking the bus until we can save up for another. I don't want them to know how bad I feel about my life. That everything in it is completely out of control. That I am trying desperately to remain positive but I am mainly miserable. And so I'm basically alone.
I have no friends. I would never reach out to family for help, mainly because they all have their own problems and likely couldn't help me anyway. I am sad to say that I honestly have next to no prospects for who will watch my son when I'm at the hospital having our next baby. I felt like I was finally starting to make a few friends in my sewing class, but then I found out I was pregnant and had to quit that so I could start working. I was too embarassed to explain the situation, so I'm pretty sure they all think I just dropped off the face of the earth.
I really don't know what the point of this blog post is. I'm depressed. I'm exhausted. I am tired of taking care of a toddler all day, and then going to work all evening, and I have no idea how I am going to manage to do this for the remainder of my pregnancy. It doesn't help that I have to take the bus there and back--and hour (and two buses) each way, for a place that is ten minutes away by car. I am sick of feeling queasy. I'm sick of the fact that my hips and my back still hurt SO BAD from when I was pregnant the last time, and now they are just getting worse. I'm sick of standing on my feet all day and torturing my body for what amouts to a desperately needed pittance.
But more than that, I'm scared. I'm scared because nothing in my life ever goes as planned. I'm scared that no matter how responsible I am, how conscientious, how hard I try or how much I work, nothing will ever turn out the way I want it to. I'm afraid that the rest of my life will just be me dealing with a bunch of roadblocks and setbacks, and never getting where I want to go or being able to do what I want to do. I'm terrified because I don't think I'm strong enough to live that life. And because if that is what it is going to be, I'm not sure that I want to keep going, and yet I have no choice.