I am so lost. Something has kidnapped me and I am trapped under a thick sheet of glass. It’s terrible because I can see out, I can see that I am lost, held hostage, but there is nothing I can do about it. At least not anything quick.
I see myself from underneath the glass and I don’t recognize myself. My smile looks forced; it is. It doesn’t reach my eyes; there’s nothing behind it. The self I see is grouchy, tired, moody and none of those terms describe the real me. I am short-tempered, I am so angry. I am sad and melancholy and negative. I hurt. I can’t see the good around me. I really struggle to find things I’m happy about.
This is not me. I’m lost.
I want to sit in a room and primally scream at the top of my lungs. Just scream. Until I can’t scream anymore. I want to scream that IT’S ALL UNFAIR! I GOT SCREWED! I AM TIRED! I DIDN’T SIGN UP FOR THIS! I DON’T WANT TO!!! I don’t think any of those things are true, but I feel them anyway. And I want to scream because I’m mad at myself for even having those thoughts in my head. I’m 11 years in, I should know better. But maybe that’s also why I’m so angry and tired. 11 years is a long fucking time and maybe, just maybe, I should cut myself some slack.
But I don’t. I’m lost.
I think if I just was a size 2, if I had a cleaning lady, if we had more money, if I liked my job, if I had new clothes, if Matt’s job didn’t drive me crazy, if I could just go on vacation, if I could just get a pedicure, I would feel better. But it’s not true. Because I don’t feel good on the inside right now. None of those things will change that. None.
Because I’m lost.
I don’t want to play Monopoly or catch or ride bikes. I want to curl up in the fetal position, take 2 Advil P.M. and cry myself to sleep. I want to read and escape to a fantasy land where there is no worry, no stress, just sex and love. I want to get in my car and drive until I can’t keep my eyes open and see where I landed. I want anywhere but here.
Because I’m lost.
The real me, the one who’s trapped under the glass is a positive, happy person who has the patience of a saint. Where is that woman? I like who I am, I’m happy. Where is she? I love being a Mom, I love playing with my kids, I love being with my family. What happened to her?
I know she’s still here…and I’m trying to find her. I know it will take me a while and I know that eventually I’ll get her out from underneath that damn glass. I just hope everyone who loves me will still be there.