Growing up

 So I told my mom when I got the new car, it would just mean me having to grow up.  Gone are the days when I can choose not to work until noon or one pm and be off by five.  I have to grow up and take the morning hours so that I can afford the adult car.

To that end, last night I started a new bedtime routine.  I take my pills at nine and go to bed by eleven.  At 10:45 last night I shut down my computer and climbed in bed.  At 11 when the bedtime alarm went off I turned off my phone and rolled over.  Did I go right to sleep? No.  But I didn't give up and go back to my phone I laid there and eventually it was five AM when the rain started.  And then it was 8 am.

I don't feel like I wanted to stay in my bed forever, and I don't feel the least but tired.  I almost kinda hopes that this will become my new normal.  It's not a bad feeling.

But I have to go. It's raining again and that means people in Charlotte will completely forget how to drive. So one must be on her p's and q's today.  Today is the 8 hour day so let's see how this goes.  

Smell ya later... Hey now, you didn't really expect me to jump totally into Adulthood did ya? LOL

Ta!

Why

Why does no one ever listen until you find yourself screaming?  Bald from where you e pulled your hair out not that it matters anywhere because stress is causing it to fall out anyway?  Clothes are falling off of you because you e list so much weight because you don’t even have the desire to eat even enough to keep yourself alive because if you’re alive that means this just continues.

I want to die.

I don’t even want to run away anymore I... I just want to die.

My mom is going in for surgery and as per her usual her being scared that she won’t make it out alive means that she feels like she had full god given permission to treat me like shit.

I am never going to be the daughter she wants.  I don’t call every few hours.  I don’t go visit her.  I don’t make her my number one person all day every day.

During this fucking pandemic shes has closeted herself in her house.  She won’t go anywhere she won’t do anything.  But me, the essential one is supposed to drop everything and run out to Gastonia and visit her.  At no time did it ever dawn on her that she could climb in her car and come see us.  Why?  Because my house is a mess and my lawn is not awesome and it’s such a long way and yada yada bullshit.  I mean, even if she just sat in the driveway to chat isn’t that a reasonable compromise than me trekking out to Gastonia all the damn time?  

This year on her birthday she pretty much demanded we come out to her.  That would have been fine and great since it was her birthday and no one would have minded but doing that meant that three people had to call off work because she wanted us ALL DAY and when I mentioned maybe half the day she pulled the “But it’s my 75th birthday!” Card.

In June I went away with my friends for one weekend and I didn’t call her every night of that mini vacation so by the time I got back she was butthurt  and didn’t want to speak to me.   

I wish it was just my mom this time.  It’s never just my mom. And I’m old enough to realize that my mom only gets under my skin when something else has already broken the skin.

I recently got insurance through my job.  Which is awesome but to maintain it you have to work an average of 35 hours a week and no matter how many times I try to tell them I am tired and hurting and need to keep it at that 35 maybe 40 hours a week, Linda keeps loading me up to the point where last week I hit 58 hours and this week is rolling up on the 50 mark.  I even said I wanted to make Saturday my one day off.  The one day where I could just take it down.  That email was responded to by say lol ok and could I work next Saturday...

I just need it to stop.  All of it.  Stop.

I have runner tendencies and I really feel like the day after I lose my mom people are going to look up and I’m going to be gone.  Slipped away without a word to anyone to a place where I can finally take a deep breath and exhale.  Someplace where no one is constantly nagging me, asking me for anything, or demanding anything from me.

Someplace where only those who have been paying attention will even think to look.

Away.