Oct. 16th, 2010

sirius20_81: (sad)
It's strange: I love to be the shoulder to cry on for other people. I feel I'm at my best when helping someone through their worst. I know everyone gets knocked about in life, and I just want everyone I know to enjoy what little time they get here as much as they can. But when I'm having a tough time I feel like I'm being a self-indulgent whiny annoying bitch.

I almost feel as though I'm not worth helping. It's as though no matter what anyone says or does, my life is still going to go to shit and it's going to be my fault.

I know I'm far better off than some. I've got a loving husband (ok, not exactly. We've been together for 8 years now and the ONLY reason we're not already married is Indiana requires a pre-marital exam performed by a doctor and we just can't afford that. Nor can we afford to go to Vegas. To me, he is my husband. Plain and simple) who drags himself out of bed every morning to support us at a job that is literally wearing down his body. My son is awesome. I know it's a mother's job to say that, but he really is. He's smart as hell. He's never gotten below a B on anything (except his citizenship grade this term), he's in the advanced reading group, he's already multiplying and doing word problems (he's in first grade) and he LOVES to go to school. We rarely have to discipline him and we STILL get comments on how he's amazingly behaved (he does get distracted easily though, hence his C in citizenship). My extended family is a bit crazy, but whose isn't? I only have a few friends, but I've always been the kind of person who prefers quality over quantity.

So when it comes down to issues, I always feel like I'm the problem.
If I had finished college, I'd have a marketable skill.
If I hadn't taken the time off to be a stay at home mom until Xander went to school, I'd probably be a manager somewhere by now. I'd at least have 6 more years of experience to put on my resume. As it is, my last real job (other than my 2 months of seasonal work at the gas station last year) was in 2001. I'm pretty much unhirable it seems. So I'm a drain on the family finances and I don't contribute anything. And, honestly, most of our problems right now stem from the fact that we're always broke as hell, but don't want to deny our son (within reason, we don't buy him everything he asks for, but he's got a HELL of a matchbox/hotwheels collection going).
Also, I (obviously) have some emotional/mental issues. Particularly with my self-worth. I know it's (mostly) a result of my stepfather beating it into me for years (sometimes literally, once with a guitar) that I'm lazy, ugly, stupid, and unwanted. But you can only hear something so many times before you start to think that maybe there's some truth to it. Hell, my biological father didn't want me. He's never even made the effort to contact me since I was 6. Sometimes I think my mom's life would have been better if I hadn't been born. I was an accident. Because of me, she got married to my ass of a sperm donor, got divorced and had to go into the army. If I hadn't come along, who knows what she could have done with her life.
I can't deny that I'd rather lie in bed than do the dishes or laundry, so maybe I am lazy. Maybe if I had been a better daughter to my ex-stepfather, he wouldn't have beaten me. Maybe he wouldn't have felt the need to cheat on my mom. Maybe they'd still be together, maybe my little sister would know her father as more than someone she goes to see every few years, maybe my mom wouldn't be so lonely now.
My health also isn't the greatest since I let myself get so heavy (I'm an emotional eater and with all of the stress I ballooned up to 400). I'm down a bit now, I'm hovering right around 340, but it's been hard and I'm having trouble sticking with my diet. It doesn't help that it's more expensive to eat healthier foods.
I'm also scared that I've messed Xander up. I know he's a good kid now, but he's almost guaranteed to be a nerd growing up. I remember what that was like, and I don't want him to suffer through that. But more than that, I'm afraid I've passed on my crazy to him. And I feel like his problems concentrating in class are a result of my minor drug usage as a teenager.

Sometimes I just don't see the point in anything anymore. Sometimes I feel like if I were to disappear, no one would notice or care. And if they did, they would realize soon enough that their lives got better once I was gone.

I feel horrible when I get into one of these moods because they scare my son. I've tried to tell him that he's the best thing that's ever happened to me, and that I've just got something wrong with my head that makes me cry sometimes, I'm just not sure he understands. I just don't know what to do about them. When I was on medication (right after I graduated high school, I was institutionalized for 3 months), my moods were steady. Zombie-like, but steady. I can't function on the meds though. Not that I can afford them anyway. I can barely afford the things we have, there's no way I'd be able to afford a doctor.

I'm so sorry I've rambled on. Sometimes talking makes me feel better, but I hate burdening other people with my problems. I'm done now. I do feel a tiny bit more positive, all things considered. Thanks for listening.

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