Depression blows.

So while I planned to make this about my past, and not so much my present it's not possible to do this seeing that past affects the present. I have suffered from depression since I was a teen. I do see a doctor and am on medications, this was not always the case. There have been times that I wanted to hurt myself wanted to hurt others, and feel if not better when I piss someone off, then equal. I know its shitty to think more over write and yet it is the way I am. I have been really depressed this month, my husband will be in a good mood, and I just pick, and pick at him until I wear him down and we  fight, or more over he gets pissed and I didn't feel happy over it just....like we are equal. I don't see enough of him to be bitchy really and there wont be anything wrong per-say. I am just angry, or in  a bad mood. And I take it out on him until he is in a bad mood. Then we stop talking, and I shut down.
Fucked up isn't it? I wonder why I am this way, why do I have to tear him down? I don't feel joy over it. In fact when he gets mad it pisses me off most the time like why is he so pissed when I am the one with the problem. But in a secret corner of my mind I am vindicated that I brought him down. That's really shitty way to think I know that too. I push people away from me, that way I can't be hurt and I know that is stupid but the one person in the world who can really destroy me is him. I have given him everything I have my heart and soul, and he does not even know how much I fear that I could not stand the thought of life without him.
I love him, and I hate him. I let him know I love him and show him I hate him. I have some fucked up ways of looking at things. I hate him for making me love him, making me weak, making me need him. I keep waiting for him to get sick of my shit and leave me.......God knows I deserve it the way I act sometimes. I wouldn't want to be with me but so far he has stayed with me 15 years married 14 and he is still here. Poor man because I don't see me changing like ever.
It's not that I get sad thinking of him leaving me and then I get depressed, I am sad. It has nothing to do with him. It's me. I should be happier, I have a good husband, 2 good happy kids who are pretty healthy. I have no job but I don't want one either, I don't want to deal with people. I don't have it in me to deal with other people right now. I am close to snapping and I really have no reason why. I drive down the road, and think about how I could crash the car make it look like a accident only me in the car that way no one is hurt, not hit anyone I don't want to hurt anyone. I am just tired. I don't have anything to complain about but I am still very unhappy. I know I would not be happier without the family I have made. I know I don't want to be with another man. I know I love my kids, and am so very proud of the young men they are coming to be. I want to see them grow up, go to prom, date, collage, get good jobs, married have babies. I know I don't want to die. I just know I am sad, angry, upset, and there is no outside force for it. It is in me, and me alone.
I have more now then I ever thought I would have I know its more then i deserve. I am not good enough for the life I have been blessed with. I try to be most days I try to be worthy of it. Now though, today I am sad....and it's okay to acknowledge that. I know I am sad, and that it won't last. Because I am stronger than this......thats all for today I think 

Brothers

            This has taken me a long time to write here, not because I am so busy or that I don't have anything to say. I have a hard time looking back at what I have been through and where I was to where I am now. It's not easy, looking back at where I was. To remember the pain and confusion the self hate, depression. I am not a strong person. I know that some people say I am I'm really not. I wanted what everyone wants. To be loved, to be taken care of. I wanted someone to look at me and see the pain I was in to rescue me. It didn't happen. I wanted someone to see it was not just my mother I needed to be free from, but my brothers and their friends. I know most people have siblings that they don't always get along with, I had siblings that hated me. I had not done anything other to be born. That might sound melodramatic, but in this case it was true. I always thought they hated me, that I had done something wrong and if I could just try hard enough they would see that there was nothing that I did wrong. They would see that I was not a horrible person I was like them. But I know now that was never going to happen.
           I say that my brothers hated me for being born, not because I thought they were mean to me. which they were. No I know this for a fact because my oldest brother told me this a few years ago, he poured out his heart to me on the phone one of the several hours he made because he was drunk and well he felt he needed to let me know he hated me because he thought the reason our parents got divorced was me. He blamed me my entire life, and never hesitated to take his anger out on me. Be it physical or mental he held it against me. Blamed me for everything that went wrong, even once tried to kill me. See my mom loved to tell me how when I was like three years old my older brothers fed me poisonous berries. She would say that they had to rush me to hospital and pump my stomach, my brothers had thought they were feeding me strawberries. Or so they told her. But during one of the many unwanted phone calls he confessed that they knew the berries were poisonous and as a way to get me to eat them they told me they were strawberries. He thought if I was dead my parents would not fight.Only when I got real sick, did they get scared and told my mom. I was three at the time, he was seven, my other brother was six. This set the scene for the rest of my life. They hated me and I had done nothing more then be unfortunate enough to be born into this family.
            When he told me this I felt I  had validation for what I had always felt. I never fit in and was never good enough. No matter what I tried and no matter what I said I would never be accepted by them cause they hated me. He told me he no longer hated or blamed me, like I should rejoice or my life was complete because he forgave me for being born. Yeah well too little too late. He is a bitter man with a failed marriage, a daughter that runs wild he lives with our dad and has no plans to move at age 41. He also admitted he was jealous of me now too. Because my marriage was a good one, because I had good kids because I was happy. Really what was i supposed to do with that? The irony in this is even when he didn't hate me he still does not like me.
               When I was younger I would have tried to make him see my life was not perfect, that my marriage was hard work, and my kids were good and polite because my husband and I worked on them together. That we were a family because we worked on it. I love and respect my husband and he me, our kids reflect that. But it is not my place to explain to him how a family works. I don't need his love or understanding, I don't need for him to love me, I have my husband and kids that do. I am not perfect, nor is my family. But we turn to each other when life gets tough instead of tearing each other down. It's not my place or my job to teach him this. I don't need his approval or his understanding. I have grown beyond that and have found happiness and contentment in my life not because of what I have been though but despite it.
           In truth I owe him nothing, want nothing from him and I am okay with it.

Bored

I'm bored and feeling stifled. I want to write but I don't know who I would talk to or write about anyway. I have been trying to write a book like forever but I can't focus on it. I feel like I am just drifting and need to write but I have no motivation to do so. I hear voices needing their stories told but I don't even want to open the file and try it.

I hate when I get this way I feel like I am bottled up energy and I am not even that strong. I don't want to read, don't want to write, don't want to play my apps. So what is left to do? I could clean but hey I could also spit out a grand out of my ass but I don't see that as happening. When I get like this I either clean, sleep or get migraine. In fact I have been seeing the little zig zags before my eyes. I see them before I get a migraine.

And I am watching TV right now, and Cameran Diez is complaining that she was too skinny, and had bad skin awww poor baby! Give me a freaking break! She has no idea what it is to be ugly, and have to loose weight. I have to say shut the hell up! She is just trying to hawk her fucking book! Really complaining that she can eat anything she wants and be so proud of her 'genes' Going on and on about how she wants to age gracefully! Then complaining about women who use botox, women who do not look as good as she does. Fuck me but shut up please!

I am in no mood to hear about how much some star with little to NO concept how reall people live tell me how to love myself. Bitch please get your skinny ass off the damned tv and go eat a pizza. 

I am not my mother.

I used to be afraid when I grew up one day I would become my mother. I really thought I would one day look in the mirror and see her face. I am now almost 40 and know that I am not my mother. But when I was younger, it was the main reason I didn't want to have kids or get married, I didn't want to be like her, or worse become her. I know a lot of women fear this, and for me that fear was worse them most I think. See my mother, was 100 pounds of mean, unhappy, unsatisfied woman, who had three kids to take it out on.
For many years my mother had a huge negative affect on my life, that is not so abnormal. Everyone has a mother be it a birth mother,adopted, or step mother. Some are the best, the things that dreams are made of. Others not so much, my mother was one of the not so much. There were things that I loved about the woman, and things that made me hate myself. She made me hate who I was, and think I could not be loved I was worthless.  I can say she might have tried at times to be a decent mother and person. Other times we were nothing more but a rock around her neck tying her down, these times she gave us little to no thought but would be fast to turn on us in anger. Her excuse is she did not have a roll model and did not know how to be a mother. Excuses sad and no where close to being believable. She had a step mother that she didn't like, a father that set rules she didn't want to follow and a husband that did not know what he was getting into when he married her.

My parents were married young, my dad was 18 my mom was 19. They had the first of three children Phillip, one year latter my middle brother Jimmy was born. Three years latter I came and was their only girl. I was spoiled by them at first after all I was the only girl in the family, and the first grand daughter born so this made me a big deal. It didn't last. My mother did not like the thought of anyone being the center of attention other then her. So she would make dresses for us and dress us alike, my brothers she either ignored or screamed at. I know she loved us in her own warped way, but it was not enough, we were not enough for her. She began to cheat on my father, more then once. He took her back and forgave her until he couldn't any more. I was five when they split up and six divorced. He moved away and married someone 6 days latter.

After they split up my mother changed She became bitter, and blamed my father a lot for things she did, and she used us kids against him. She would tell us that dad no longer loved us and had a new family, even had a new daughter, my new step mother had a little girl 2 yrs younger then me. It was a confusing time, where I did not know who to trust or what to believe. I should have been able to depend on my brothers and we should have grown closer as survivors of a broken home. That didn't happen. I was not just abused by my mother, but my brothers too. I didn't know it at the time, didn't see it as abuse even thought that it was normal. But I know now it wasn't. Years and lifetimes latter, my oldest brother admitted he hated me when he was younger, that he blamed me for our parents getting a divorce. It was stupid and a child's thinking held over into adulthood. To a child's mind I was the cattliest that started all the trouble. He was not able to understand that the problems with their marriage started way before I was born.

Only years later would we talk about this, when it was happening no one spoke of all the bad things happening to us. No one even acted as if it were odd. My mother had a lot of boyfriends, most were named Mike, there always seemed to be a mike around. My mother resented us because she met a man who asked her to move with him to another state, and my father told her she could not take us. She claims he was her soul mate, and she should have just gone with him but we were the reason she was never happy. She had so many 'Mikes' we had to call them different things, There was Mike from Arizona, Mike B., and Mike H. Who was only 16 to her 33 yrs. The last Mike is one that had a lasting affect on her life. This Mike is the one she claimed was the father to my little brother, Mike and well one she was with the longest.

This mike had younger siblings, one who was 14, Brandon, his twin Barb, younger brother Brent and older sister Debbie.  His parents are Jean and William or Bill is what we called him. I mention them because long after Mike had enough of my mothers crazyness Brandon, and Bill remained in our lives.

I remember some of the things that happened, and some have faded from memory, which is best I would guess. As a child I had two different lives one with my mother, where I was hit, and beat with sticks, spoons, belts, had money stolen from me by her and made to think there was something wrong with me. The Mike H. Had the biggest impact on our lives not in a good way either. His family was even more dysfunctional then mine.

One way was they would watch porn with us, they would put it on like a family show. I was seven and did not understand what I was seeing, but I remember it still to this day. At seven I got my first kiss, from a 14 yr old pervert that should never have looked at me and seen me as anything other then a pesky kid, instead he preyed on my need to belong or fit in. I watched the boys fight, and play together when we were younger, and smoke, then do drugs. I was invited to join as long as I had money. I had many pets growing up cats, dogs, even a bird or four. Yet when ever my mother got tired of them or wanted me to be punished the animal would disappear.

I am jumping ahead and I don't mean too. There is so much in between my childhood and teen years. So many things that I need to tell. So I will just end this for now just saying I used to have three ways I thought my life would go.

1.) I would grow up and look in the mirror and see my mother there, that I would be as small and petty as she was. I would ruin not only my life, but the life of my children and some poor dope that wanted me. I never wanted kids, and never wanted to be with a guy to stop this from happening.

2.) One day years after I grew up my mother and I would be together, having tea in a fancy restaurant  after a day of shopping. I would show her how good my life had turned out despite her and the things she had done. I would listen to her beg me for forgiveness and I would do so. Because despite everything I wanted her to love me. (Yes this is the one I really wanted, unanswered prayers of a child with no hope but the ability to dream.)

3.) I would kill myself young, I would not get a chance to grow up or have a family. I would not have a chance to show her anything because I could not do this any longer. I hurt in ways that only someone who had gone through it would understand. I was so sure this was the way it would end. I wanted it only to end, Hell would be better then my life and what it was becoming. I had very little reason to live to go on......and yet I did.

Since I am writing this, none of how I pictured my future happened. I am married with kids, I have never cheated, and or hit them. My husband never cheated or hit me, we are going on 14 yrs of marriage. I will talk about this latter, because my story does have a happy ending. But before I get to that I have to tell the whole story. Only my story is true and almost had a very different ending....