So….. I spent my weekend in a place of zen, which oddly enough, should be a place a normal person would never want to go to. My ex’s house. He wasn’t there. He was visiting his woman. It has wooden beams and high arches and huge windows and it is surrounded by trees. Granted…… it does need some major clean up and organization, but somehow the OCD in me doesn’t seem to care too much about that. So I soak up any daylight that filters through the trees into the windows and I hang out with his brother who knows me probably as well as my bestie does… and in some ways…. even better. And I am completely at peace. We drink and eat and talk and laugh and play Skyrim. I don’t have any anxiety attacks. I don’t wake up sad. I don’t have to worry about wether or not I wear makeup because I’m beautiful just the way I am.
I can plan things without freaking out over how I am going to accomplish them. It’s easy. Step one, step two, step three. Everything is completely clear.
And then I wake up the morning I have to leave.
I make coffee. I begin to pack my things. I smoke a cigarette and drink my coffee as I stand outside in the morning sun, listening to the birds in the trees all around me. Watching them look for bugs under leaves.
Then I go inside and begin to pack my things and I cry…. because I don’t want leave. Because I know that I am coming back to a place where I will be constantly be made to feel imperfect. Where my daughter will be made to feel the same.
And on my way home my vehicular device starts acting up. Which really sucks, because Monday I had just reinacted my employment with the Temp agency that I have been with on and off for 15 yrs and has never failed to eventually land me in a permanent position. And now…. I have to figure out how in the hell I am going to pay for repair. I don’t know what is wrong with it yet, but I am hoping that it is just the fuel filter gummed up and not the transmission.
But until I figure out what the hell it is….. I’m screwed if she calls me for work… because not only will I NOT have transportation to get to Seattle…. but I will also NOT have transportation to and from work. FML.
It seems that no matter how hard I try, I am never going to escape from the soul sucking black hole that is Yakima, WA. *sigh*
Not to mention that half the time where I live is very negative…. and the favoritism in the family is very obvious and actually kind of hurtful. I guess I need to marry an abusive ass or become a meth head to get the little bit of assistance I can muster up the courage to ask for. I hate asking for help. It’s not like I asked you to buy me a car or to buy me a house. I flipping asked you to drive your granddaughter to school because her ride is sick and my car is broken. I’d send her on the bus and not even bother you with it…. if we lived anywhere near a bus stop. Did I mention public transportation here sucks ass?
At any rate… it just seems like every attempt to escape here is thwarted in some way. I do not want to be here. I want to go home. All I want to do here is sit in my room and hide from the world. Grrrrrr. I hate feeling this way.