Slipping

I am writing this to keep myself upright. I am emotionless. Going through. Asked if I'm alright. I'm not, you better believe I will tell you I am. I cannot tell you why I am not. Maybe I cannot handle being me. The pressures of finding a job with my health limitations is amazing. Then throw in the fact that I am now using Cannabis as a pain manager. I am also a god damn lazy slob. My mind will not let me wake up and be anything resembling a human. I want to be everything.

I'll come up short. But, I'd at least like to make a mark on the wall. I have crushing anxiety that you will one day realize that I am damaged goods. I am a leech, I am nothing but excuses. I am self-deprecating and self-depreciating as the days go by.

When I was young all I wanted to be one half of 2 people married and happy. Because I had never truly seen the picture of happiness when it came to partnership. Two people contributing. Two people making bad jokes. Two people being. Two people not afraid of going to the movies because he is afraid he will snap on the person who will inevitably kick his chair. Even though the guy kickin' my chair is not even remotely the problem. He'll become it until he knocks my ass flat. How Bow Dah.

This ideology of the stay at home wife is that the husband goes out and works and brings home the money. Woman...? I don't know, Cleans the room, Does the dishes, Maybe does anything productive. Guess what I do? Write dick jokes on twitter, take 2 pisses and feel some semblance of accomplishment.

I realized January 2015 that I was never going to be what I wanted to be. But my biggest fear is that I will never be what you need.

D.