Words.
Its amazing how powerful they are.
How you can retrieve the memory of them on a cold, lonely day and feel better. Or how they can fester deep inside, the echo of them always under the surface.
Its been brought to my attention that I'm self-centered. Look at my life, look at people in a country devastated by war and hunger. Basically quit bitching.

Yet, this is my place, and sometimes I just need to write. I'm sorry if it comes across as ungrateful or spoiled. It just helps me to write.
I know that I am so so much more fortunate than someone in Darfur, or Iraq, or hell just down in Mexico. I do know this. But despite this, this knowledge, I find myself spiraling downward. I either feel sad, or nothing, or just simply tired.

I feel like I've lost my mom and my dad. Its just so weird without him here. And my mom is dead to me. As I'm sure I am to her. It just feels heavy. I don't know how else to explain it.

Recently these are the words describing me:
self-centered.
Lazy.
Dirty.
A bad mom.
Hated.
That my house is disease infested.
Irresponsible.
That I've fucked everyone's life up. Badly. My financial decisions. My mood swings. My lack of doing overtime. My desire to be in Phoenix. My foul mouth. The fact that I don't go to the gym.
Apparently I'm just a big, white trash, rude, irresponsible bad mom. That everyone in my close vicinity would have been so much better without me.
I've been hurt physically. And emotionally with words. I still don't know which is worse.
Apparenly I evoke violence in people.
Recently.

My house is keeping me so down. I'm trying everyday to do something to make it better, cleaning something, fixing something. But it is just taking so long. It really is suffocating me. I'm trying to keep positive about it. But it really wears on me.

I try to wake up everyday, and tell myself that I am choosing to have a good day. That I will accomplish certain things, I will be grateful for what I have, I will love and laugh. Because loving and laughing are important. I will hug my children. I will make healthy decisions. I will embrace life. That I will not sweat the small stuff. That I will nurture the small things today. Hold on to the things that are good. Over the last 3 weeks, this has been my mission. And I think I have done pretty well. I've changed my attitude. I've made sure I kept my word, and looked at life this way. Like I said, everyday I wake up, and make a conscious decision to chill, to have a good day, to CHOOSE to have a great day.

But everyday, as much as I fight it, I go a little deeper down under. I find myself with no energy to disagree. I find myself sometimes, just stopping where I am at, and just stopping. I think about my dad. I can't get away from the bad feeling about my mom because she is right across from my house. I find myself with no opinion. No opinion on things that once would have outraged me. War, crime, news, lies, general wrongness. No energy to have an opinion. No opinion on Christmas, on Thanksgiving. Except feeling sad.

It amazes me how I am at work. No on would have a clue that this is me. Its a great suit with a great mask that I wear at work. Sometimes at work I stop and think, who am I? Whose skin am I in? I seem and feel so together there. So non-emotional. Even happy. No one would ever imaging what is under that mask. A couple of times Martin came up, and wanted to know what it was. If I was ok.

Yeah, sure. I'm great. Just peachy.

Bad mom. I think that is the one that hurts the most. Dirty. Irresponsible.
The one who fucked everyone's life up.
Loser. That pretty much sums it up. Loser.
I wish the words could go away.
I wish I could go away.

So what can I do today to fix all of these things.

Oh and Deb, I think you are right about the kids going to my mom's. But I have no place to have Thanksgiving for them right now. My living room is empty. No table to sit at. No nothing. They know my mom is cooking, and want to go over there. Sydney was sad when she found out she wouldn't be eating with me. Peggy and her kids will be there. They all want to play and visit. My mom is a really good cook, (something she obviously didn't pass on to me), and they will really be missing out. I can't imaging forcing them to stay in my house on Thursday, with no place to eat at, and the food I would make in comparison to my mom's that they know is just across the alley, and having them be able to see Peggy and her kids over there and not be able to go. Trust me, its the loving thing to let them go over. I realize you need to be with family on Thanksgiving, but if I keep them from going over there it is just selfish and because of my own issues. I want them to have a good day.

I personally would choose a day in bed, in a nice vodka/percocet coma.