Blogging for the sake of blogging.

Out of no where it just hit me. At 11:30 at night, when I am supposed to be in bed, on "bed-rest," it hit me. I should blog. About what? I don't know.. About who? I, again, don't know.

Maybe it's because my mind is in a fog and I usually feel much less stressed after I write. Maybe it's because things are again seeming like they can't get much worse, and I need to free my thoughts.. Who knows.. I sure don't.

I have been reading blogs all day it seems. Well actually for about a half hour now. And I had a thought cross my mind numerous times. I really am a terrible writer. Between the typo's and being so grammatically incorrect most of the time, and the fact that I can't help but drag anything out, I realized I will never have one of those popular blogs with thousands, or hundreds, or even ten's of readers. I will not have a blog which people just have to check daily. And, while that was my intention in the beginning, I am okay with that. I am totally okay with knowing I may be the only person who faithfully reads this ugly thing. Whatever. I am happy with it.
I like having something to look back at. Just like I enjoy reading my diaries and journals dating back to when I was a child, an adolescent, a teen.

Maybe one day, when I have had more time on this earth, and have accomplished more than just being a heroin addicted, suicidally depressed wife and mother, more people will come to read this. And if not.. Oh well. I am okay with it..

Maybe tomorrow I will blog about something worth reading.

Or not.

Another day, another dollar fight.

I say we need to talk more.
He says I don't try.
I say we need more moments alone.
He says it's gotta be on my time.

I say we need to make love more often.
He says I push him away.
I say we need to be there for each other.
He says he is here every day.


Maybe it is the financial stress. Maybe it is more. Who knows. He claims it is all me. I claim it is all him. We are always in this vicious cycle it seems. Months where we are just so happy and in love. Months where we aren't even sure we want to fight for this anymore. I am sick of the bottom of this cycle. I want to be back at the top again. Just a couple weeks ago, things were grand. Though I had not been giving even 2% into our marriage, and he had been giving it 110%. He had been doing so much to help me be comfortable. Letting me sleep, taking care of the kids, taking over all the household responsibilities. He was doing it all, as I was barely leaving my bedroom for more than an hour.

Maybe I was taking advantage of him. I probably was. I have always been a selfish person who prefers everything to be about me. At least that's who he tells me I am.

He had said I am also retarded, stupid, idiotic. All words that make me completely shut down and run away. All words I had been called through out my entire childhood. He then tells me he only says it out of frustration. He 'really' thinks I am smart, intelligent, wise. All things my parents used to say after I would cry about them putting me down. I feel like a little kid again.

Then he said the worst thing anyone can ever say to a mom.
He actually said I don't love my kids. According to him, I can care less about them. About him. About myself.

Maybe this is my own fault for being so negative towards him lately. Maybe this is my fault for pushing his buttons instead of being grateful for all he was doing to help me.
Maybe, maybe, maybe what-fucking-ever.

I don't deserve to be told this shit. Just like he doesn't deserve me being ungrateful, selfish, unloving.


We are both in the wrong here. Yet I am the one left begging for forgiveness. Begging him to talk to me. Begging him to get over whatever. Begging him to put back on his ring, after he threw it at me. Begging him to stay awake. And now.. begging him to join me in bed.

5 of the last 8 days have consisted of fighting. I have a feeling this time the cycle is on slow motion and this will be drawn out....

Desperately seeking help and guidance

I thought these feelings were behind me. I thought I had everything under control. Not anymore.
The suicidal thoughts are back with a vengeance. The depression and psychotic breaks are tearing me to shreds. I need a helping hand. A miracle worker. Help.

At this exact moment I am struggling, with every part of my being, not to slam my face into the drywall. Struggling to stay away from the pills bottles and knives. Struggling to stay calm. I know, beyond a shadow of a doubt, if it weren't for this life inside of me at this moment, I would be back where I was a year ago, trying to end my life.

I sit here typing this as it is my only way to get these ramped thoughts out of my mind. Tears streaming down my face, fingers barely able to find the right keys as my hands shake so tremendously.

The only person I am willing to call and speak to about these thoughts will admit me immediately. I cannot, though I desperately need to, go back into the nut house. I have to work. I have to make it to my appointments. My children need me here, home. Yet, I need me sane.

Doctors, medication, and counseling cannot help me right now. Only the state of Connecticut can, yet they won't, not until things get worse. I cannot, as a mother, as a human being, let things get worse.

I learned today, after doing some math and speaking to a few social workers, there is no way I can come up with my rent this month. My utilities are officially way past due. I should shut off my internet, cable, and phone; but am petrified of what I would do without any connection to the outside world. I have no idea where my children and I will be going in a few weeks. I cannot even throw my son a 4th birthday party, as I don't even know where I will be living. I had one thing I have been looking forward to, which will only cost $25 tops, and I cannot go. I can't even afford clothing that fits me. If it weren't for the baby shower my wonderful aunt is throwing for me and a few dear friends, my soon to be daughter would have nothing.

No one knows this but I am seriously considering putting her up for adoption. It breaks my heart to even type this as I cannot even say it out loud. I have wanted a daughter so desperately for years. Yet, right now, how dare I even contemplate bringing another child into my life? How dare I bring her into my household when I can't even support myself or my two boys. There are millions upon millions of women out there so desperate to have a child of their own. Those women would give everything to make sure she was well taken care of. I can't even take care of her when she is in the most protected place she will ever be in.

I never saw myself here..I swear a few years ago, I would have never seen myself as a heroin addict, manic depressive bi-polar psycho, who believes her children are truly better off without her. Yes. I do believe they are better off with out me. At least they wouldn't be looking at living in a damn shelter in a few weeks. Or sharing a couch and floor with each other and their parents in the middle of drive-by central. At least then, if I weren't here, the state would help my boys.

Yes. That is where we will be in a few weeks. Either in my in-laws living room, living in the middle of the ghetto, where the house next door gets shot at on a weekly basis. Or.. In a fucking homeless shelter. And, not until we are homeless for 60 damn days will the lovely, children 1st state of Connecticut, lend a helping hand.

Fuck. I have always fended for myself. Never needed to live off the damn state. Yes. I got married young. Yes, I was a teen mother. But damn it. My children, almost all three, in fact all 5 of my damn pregnancies have been fathered by the same man. Damn it. I moved out at 16, always been able to pay my own damn way. Even when the damn times got tough, my husband and I have gotten through it.

Then I lost my mind. Then everything went down hill. Starting with the depression and suicide attempt, continuing with the heroin, followed by us losing everything. Then things started looking up. For a whole couple months. Now... Back to falling down this damn hole into the pit of darkness, where everyone is just standing at the top laughing at us struggling to hold on.

I am sick on holding on. I am sick of fighting so hard to provide for my children. I just want what any caring mother wants.

To provide for my children.

I just want some help finding a place and paying to get out foot in the damn door. And a damn job for my husband. Yep. Fourteen months laid off now. Unemployment should have run out weeks ago, yet, some how he is still collecting. Some people would love to make what he makes a week in unemployment at a real job. But when your rent is more than most mortgages in the area.. it just does not cut it.



I knew if I began to type I would calm down. At least for now the tears and shaking have stopped. Now to prevent these suicidal thoughts from returning I must continue to fight and search for help. I know it has to be out there. I know this damn state cannot really expect someone who is actually not milking the system to go into a shelter with a preschooler, toddler, and soon to be newborn. I know if I keep fighting, as much as I don't want to I will find what I need to take care of my boys.

Damn head games.

I am worse than a little girl with a celebrity crush sometimes. I meet a guy, or a guy I already know begins to pay me a bit of attention and I start feeling all mushy about him. I say it is like a celeb crush, because I know I cannot act on it. I know nothing will ever come from it. I know I am happily in love with my husband. Yes, after 9 years he still lights my fire. But lately, so is this guy. Man, what I would do to have one night where I am single. Or just a few hours.. Actually.. I wouldn't do anything to have a few single hours. Why? Because I am happy with my relationship. I am happy being married. I am happy with who my husband is. And I would not change a damn thing. For now, I will enjoy knowing another man finds me interesting and attractive, especially now when I feel my worst. I will enjoy his flirtatious comments, gestures, and smiles. I will even think about him and what could be. Hell, I might even flirt back a tad bit. But risk my marriage? My over all happiness? My family? No way in hell.

All because I already have the most amazing man in the world, who makes me feel like a super model millionaire, even when I am big and pregnant, and a miserably unhappy person.

Some days..

Some days I am just unsure of this life I chose.
Some days I actually wish I could be an average 22 year old woman.
Some days I do not want to be an expecting wife and mother.
Some days I wish I had no responsibilities, no husband, no children.
Some days I just want to have fun, do what I want, when I want, with who I want.

Then, I look at my children, or my husband, and realize just how lucky I am.