Trapped

I feel like I keep making up little traps for myself lately.

They start like this, "Oh, I'll just put the dishes away really quickly then that is done, and I can finish cleaning up after breakfast, and somewhere in there I'll get the garbage taken out, then I can make sure that meat is thawing for dinner tonight, and then I'll be able to do some artwork while Autumn is sleeping."

This is what really ends up.

I open the top drawer of the dishwasher and at least 4 of the plastic containers still has food stuck on so I gotta hand wash those, which I have to get through the sink full of dishes to get to hand washing those, which I have to clean out the dishwasher to get those washed out and I wish I could figure out what was making the dishwasher not clean the top shelf very well and yeah know, if you weren't such a spoiled brat you could just hand wash everything after every meal you do and keep up with it we wouldn't need a dishwasher and you could be better at this and fuck these stupid plastic containers that I chose they are wrong anyway they are the wrong size and I just cracked a lid yesterday so now we'll have less lids to containers and I should've been more careful and I still need to clean up after breakfast and you didn't even do the workout that you meant to do which you wouldn't have to do if you weren't such a fucking fat ass that is was too lazy to keep the weight off and you couldn't let go of something but no...

I ended up crying very hard curled around a pillow wondering why I was so angry so much lately and I figured it was because my counselor now wants me to love myself.

It is not enough to just think I don't deserve abuse from my ex, I have had to face that I don't deserve it from myself, and NOW she wants me to actually find love for myself.

This has angered me quite a bit. I want to yell and scream about it (or just cry curled up over a pillow).

I really don't understand these emotions and I have been trying to.

I've been imagining journal entries lately and I had some much better ones planned out. For example, my daughter had eaten so much body art glitter that it showed up in her poop. This actually delighted me, because it made her poop look better and I find it hilarious. My husband worries she'll be hurt, but she didn't eat that much. Truly.

Or the Thanksgiving we had the Saturday after we had our own and I got to enjoy my Mom (step-mom Judy) revel in her emotions during a play we attended. I love watching people light up with joy.

Nope. Now I am writing about this anger because I wasn't sure what else to do with it.

I don't want to write any of it out or down because then there is PROOF that I am not what I wanted to be to be in a good life.

How can something like me have such a good life? There are so many other people that deserve it.

I keep being told though how much I do. Even by people that used to elucidate my murderous shortcomings to others around them. To the point that a group of people though I deserved bodily harm.

I think I may have hit the problem though. I just snatched at a thought. I have trapped myself in a wonderful life. I have to realize I was wonderful to get there. That those things that I thought were the epitome of what would make me be a better person and then lead to a good life- the fit physique, the good mental health, the well-paying job, the well-traveled experiences which added up to this perfect person that OF COURSE people would love to have around are nothing compared to my kindness, compassion, patience, creativity, joy in others, and absolute love for those around me that I keep no matter what is going fucking haywire in my life or my head.

I feel like the lyrics to the "Dog Days are Over" to Florence & the Machine have been ones that resonate.

Happiness, hit her like a train on a track
Coming towards her, stuck still no turning back
She hid around corners and she hid under beds
She killed it with kisses and from it she fled
With every bubble she sank with a drink
And washed it away down the kitchen sink

The dog days are over
The dog days are done
The horses are coming so you better run

Run fast for your mother run fast for your father
Run for your children for your sisters and brothers
Leave all your love and your longing behind you
Can't carry it with you if you want to survive

The dog days are over
The dog days are done
Can't you hear the horses
'Cause here they come

And I never wanted anything from you
Except everything you had
And what was left after that too, oh.

Happiness hit…

Maybe I am hitting the anger portion of the grieving portion of letting go of that portion of me that held so tightly to the abusive-deserving thoughts I had. It was hard to even say that I was something worth more than I have been given by some in my life.

Now I have to learn to love myself? LOVE? Something not even my own biological mother could figure out? Loving the unlovable? Me?

Fuck you.