An Epiphany

Yesterday was a bad day.  I'm actually really surprised I haven't had more of them in this last week.  January 6 - January 15 is a harsh time for me.  Brandon weighs heavily on my mind and even if I don't consciously think of him, my soul still aches. 

Yesterday was one of those days when something small sent me into a screaming coniption.  Yes I have them.  They're generally uncommon, maybe three or four a year at most.  I guess I wanted to get 2005 off with a bang.

I was going to come here and blog it out but I hesitated - which was wrong of me to do.  My whole commitment to blogging this journey was that I was going to be honest even if it hurt.

I didn't really take into account that it would hurt more than just me.  So coming here and blogging about how angry I am at Steven or my kids when our relatives, or more specifically Steven's relatives (because my folks don't read this journal) read this feels like I'm ratting him out or disappointing them by airing our dirty laundry. 

 

But the good thing that came out of that was that I actually talked to Steven about what was bugging me, and I guess that's better than flinging it out into cyberspace for all the world to read. 

However we are going to go over some of the finer points of the conversation, because I feel it's necessary. 

And again, total honesty.

 

Since about September of last year things have been building up.  I work for my sister and our business was seriously compromised by some reason we could not put our finger on.  Normally when we hit a slump in sales (and in this particular instance we took a hit of about 20% from about September till, well, now) I can figure out something to keep us going.  This time nothing worked, we weren't able to pull out like we thought we were.  My sister said election years are hard (and it was only my second election year working for her), that people tended to hold onto their money.  Now as I watch the sales go up and people who normally bought twenty items from us a week are back, I figure she was right.

But at the time, it was very scary.  Of the two of us, I make more money than Steven, mostly because I work at CA wages.  I was living in CA when I first started to work for my sister, so that wage has carried on even while working in Texas.  I don't work near as much as I used to, but I still make a pretty decent living.

And it's from home, so I can be here with the kids and not have to leave the safety of my own four walls.  Yes, that was a deliberate thing to keep me safe from the brutality of the world. 

However it's got a lot more benefits than just that.  I have an extremely flexible schedule and that fits my life.  I don't like living by a rigid time schedule.  I like a lot of wiggle room.  I have that with this job.  And that's why I like this job.  And that's why the thought of this job going away TERRIFIED me.

 

Around this time I had earned a modest savings.  Very modest.  Under four figures modest.  But it was a start, especially since I'm a paycheck to paycheck kinda gal.  This was when Jeremiah got hurt and we ended up eating into those savings in order to pay the copays and make up income from time off work for both Steven and I.

This put us back on the downslope.

Also around this time was when Steven's job at Blue Cross became very uncertain.  One more screwup and he was fired.  This happened before at another company, so I took them at their word.  With my job future also up in the air, this hit me at my core.

 

I'm very afraid of being homeless.  I've been homeless before and it created an obsessive compulsive need for security in all things.  So this turn of events made me stress out in ways I did not identify. 

Although if you watch my eating patterns and my exercise patterns and my weight loss commitment, you'll see where I took my outlets for the stress. 

 

This was also around the time I ended up taking control of the household chores.  My children and my husband are not the cleanest bunch in the world, and living in that constant state of upheaval was driving me crazy.  If my life's a mess, I want my house to be in order.  I need some control of the chaos somewhere.  Living in a pigsty had me at the end of my rope.  So I took the chores onto my already heavily laden shoulders because someone had to take control in this house.  I told them what the conditions were, and all of them were okay with that. 

It must be nice to have someone you can depend on to take care of things so you don't have to.

I wouldn't know.

 

All this lead into the holiday season which as well all well know screwed me up.  I'm a mess from September on, anymore.  With 9-11, Dan's death, the holidays, Dad's death and right on into January with Brandon I'm just a great big ooey gooey emotional mess. 

In the past, I've had quite an effective stress reliever.  This year, I had to try and cope without it. 

This year I had to struggle to maintain the weight loss I worked so hard for.

And believe me, it's been a struggle.

 

The fight with Steven incorporated just my complete and total breakdown of being the only responsible one in the household.  I'm the one who has to make sure everyone is fed, clothed, a roof over their head, the place is picked up and sanitary, obligations are met.  Steven helps out, but the bulk of it falls on me.

I'm just barely standing on my feet, guys.  I have the weight of the world on my shoulders and no real way to find a relief valve for it all. 

Yes I know exercise should be it, but it's not.  To me, exercise is just one more obligation - one more thing I HAVE to do. 

 

I'm raising a family, working full time, writing part time, losing weight all the time - I have the equivalent of three full time jobs here. 

And it's not like I'm not strong enough to pressure through.  I just need a little help every now and then.

I need for my family to recognize I can't do it all, I do need some help and for them to WANT to help me.  If I ask my kids to do something I get the heavy sigh and the eyeroll. 

God forbid I interrupt their fun life of playing a game system all night long for them to take out the friggin trash.

 

Yes, I'm still angry. 

But here's where the epiphany comes in.

I realized that maybe I wouldn't have so many entitlement issues if I would just stand up for myself and say no to people laying their burdens on me.  Instead of taking on the housework, I should just continue the fight to make them do it (although it spends about twice the energy).  I should demand that I be treated better.

I deserve it.

 

 

However being raised by the mother of all martyrs, my mom, this is difficult.  I've already been trained to do it all and harbor resentment for everyone for doing it.  When I look at my sister, who also does the same thing, I see the same destructive behavior patterns.  She smokes, drinks, eats and spends.  I drink, eat and spend and have been guilty of other interesting addictive behaviors I choose not to put here.  Let's just say I have a colorful history.  Nothing illegal, but immoral?  You betcha. 

So maybe I wouldn't feel the need to indulge if I just set the proper boundaries and just said no once and a while. 

If it were okay for me to get mad at Steven for losing his job at Blue Cross that put the added burden of not being medically insured anymore, for instance.  Instead of patting him on the shoulder and saying that's all right, *I'll* go get a job at that boring place just to have those benefits. 

Because to me, it's more important to have security than entertainment.

And I'm really annoyed that I don't have those choices, and the men in my family do.

 

Then I think, well Steven came from being totally single with zero responsibilities to become a husband and father to two children who aren't biologically his own.

I feel guilty that he has to be responsible.

I'm officially insane.

Instead of saying this was HIS choice and by making it HE decided to grow up, I feel like I'm asking too much if I tell him I don't want him spending so much leisure time when I'm working my @$$ off trying to juggle a gazillion things at once.

 

No, I swallow it all.  Along with Papa Johns cinnapies and Chinese food takeout and pizza and Taco Bell.  I feel "entitled" to skip going to the gym, going on walks, going out and working any harder than sitting my big fat butt on the sofa and just taking chill time for myself.

 

There won't be any time for that this weekend.  I have a bunch of stuff to do and very little time to do it.

That I've done Pilatesreligiously even though I didn't want to is pretty impressive.  There was no gym yesterday but we're going to try and go today to make up for it. 

Then it's back in this chair and working for the money I hardly ever see as it goes from my hands into whatever bill needs to be paid, or in this case, to spoil birthday boy Timothy as he turns 15 on Sunday.

 

There truly is no rest for the wicked.