***WARNING! BITCHING AND MOANING AHEAD***
I’m having one of those days where I want out. Out of my marriage, out of being a mother, out of this city and state, out of my body, out of this entire life.
I know, I know, in a couple of years Darwin will be older and more independent and I’ll be able to spend time on my own, but for now I’m a prisoner here. You’d think that having a husband would help with that, but it doesn’t. When I leave Darwin with J, I leave my child with someone who’s seemingly totally unenthusiastic about spending time with him. He never says, “Hell yeah, get outta here, take your time, have fun, because we’re going to have a blast.” No. Instead he says, “Fine. Hurry back.”
How is that supposed to make me excited about going away?
So I am never alone. My entire life is spent in the company of this little person who *needs me for everything*. I can’t ever just exist as myself anymore. Instead I just have this tiny shadow following me everywhere I go, screaming when I’m not paying enough attention to him, keeping me from sleeping, and taking all his food and comfort from my body.
I’m fucking exhausted. If he could sleep for more than two hours at a stretch, that’d be a start. If he’d understand that I’m not the only person in the world who can provide safety, that’d be good too. If he’d actually eat food, instead of using it as a sampler and me as his primary sustenance or let me eat a meal without tipping my plate over, or spilling my water glass, or getting a giant handful of something potentially hazardous to his health, that would also be awesome.
I just truly don’t know how much longer I can last. And yet this “mothering instinct” or whatever it is, won’t let me spend too much time away from him. It’s too frightening.
And all I really want to do is run away to Mexico.