I stopped smoking weed. Hubby is trying to get a new job, and even though he has his medical card, he can’t be smoking til he’s potential pee tested. So I decided to quit also. It’s not been the most fun thing. We even had a small argument about it, because I never ask him to quit when I have had to in the past, but he really can’t do it on his own, clearly. He’s been emotional and reckless, frustrated angry irritable. It’s been a rough week, and he bought a cleaner that still hasn’t worked, so he’s super on edge. It seems like his job interview went well, and I’m super hopeful that plays out that way for us, but I’m almost scared to feel that way.
I went back on benzos. Day two, and it makes me feel a little sedated. I think it’s been a good thing. It makes it easier for me to eat like a normal person and still feel relaxed. Today I actually ate a normal number of calories. Which is better than my birthday when I binged and purged. I don’t know why food is so hard for me all the time I really excepted that weed is not gonna get me where I want to go in life. Or give me the body that I want and I desperately want to be back in the body that I’m OK with.
I keep having dreams about my parents. Leaving my sons lacrosse game the other night, I just started crying about them. About how unfair they made my life and all of the experiences they robbed me of. I see these smiling highschoolers having normal interactions and I realized that I never got that. I was trapped away the fucking trailer miles away from everyone else like a prisoner in a goddamn tower. And then again tonight watching the kids show because somehow even a cartoon mom is more supportive and lovely than my own was. My mom was a better resentful, emotionally, reckless, hurtful, angry. She was fucking miserable all the time, and never did anything about it so it just trickle down to me and my brother ruining our lives. I know I’ve done the best that I could with this, but it’s still really fucking sucks sometimes to realize.
They both reached out to me on my birthday, but I don’t even miss them. Well, I don’t miss my mom. I’m honestly very happy that she’s not in my life anymore. It’s hard to realize how damaging she really was. I question my self sometimes, but then, every time I look at it objectively I really sit back and think about how she acted, she’s just a terrible person. The worst part is she pretends like she’s a good person. I wish there was a way I could get my dad and not her, but I know it’s not a possibility, and honestly when we lived with them, he created so much damage and his dynamic with my husband I think I had to just pick sides. It’s not fair. I started to doubt myself as they called me on my birthday, but then I reread the letter that I wrote to them 2 1/2 years ago, and it all came flooding back. They are so mean and critical and unaccepting of people. Even their own daughter. They would rather have pride than their own daughter. Sometimes I wonder if my dad really realizes how terrible of a mother my mom was. I wonder how he would think about his life for the decisions that he made if he realized how much she fucked us. I wonder if I’ll ever get an answer to that question.
Hubby and I have been doing a little bit better. We had a very long talk the other night, and I think we’re in a good place. Who knows for how long, but I hope it lasts. I just wanna be a good wife and a good mom a good person and a good employee. It’s not easy to do. It hurts a lot to be the nurture for everyone.
I think lately, I feel good most days, but there has been a lot of stress. Thank God for benzos.
