I made a decision today. That I have to call my mom. And I called her. I asked her for help. I think maybe I made her very happy. I have been so very hurtful a daughter to her for not needing her. The thing is, I really wanted her to be proud of me. For standing up and being a grown up and trying my best to get things done. But I look around the house. I keep taking one step forward (wash and put away dishes) and then a step back, wash clothes and never put them up...
I already talked about the depressed looking house. I know that I'm happier when I'm not here, or when I'm getting ready to leave. I know that I can't just make myself do the things that need to be done around here and that putting it off isn't healthy. I can clean for company, but not for me.
I also need help to get to a good starting place. I don't know if I've mentioned this, but one of the hardest things in the world to me is to find places to put things. It's my biggest moving anxiety... and I could never get Allen to understand or help me out with it.
Growing up, everything in my room had a predefined place it was supposed to go. I was told where this place was and in trouble if things went to the wrong places. It was the same for everything in the house.
When I went to college, the only place for things to live were on/in my desk, the drawers under my bed, or the closet. Not too hard. After the dorm, the real struggle began, and I've never quite mastered the art of homing my belongings. I used to try and get Allen to help, but he wasn't good at it either. And he was easily frustrated when I would ask for an opinion on wether it was a better idea to put the dishes into the cabinet by the stove where we could easily make plates of food to go eat, or by the sink for ease of putting them away after the dishes were done. I didn't really understand why this was annoying, I just finally got someone else to show me where to put things in the kitchen. (Yes, it was my neighbor who has the same floorplan and already had a good workflow)
I don't even know what the worst room is right now... I have a ton of things to go to Goodwill. I need some organizational help in my craft room. I need to pare down in there as well. And my closet is a disorganized black hole right now.
I couldn't let just anyone come help before, but hopefully now I've found everything I wouldn't want anyone to see... so maybe, just maybe this weekend will go well and the three of us will be able to get a lot of work done. I really hope so. I'm hoping to have a new roommate soon. As well as my dream to get the hell out of this house.
I thought it would be ok to stay here for a while anyway. But I want to leave. I want to get out. This isn't the house in Memphis I wanted. We didn't buy the house in Mississippi I wanted, we got what he said we should get. That was fine, but I REALLY DIDN'T like this place before we bought it. I wanted a regular house. I wanted a specific house that was in excellent condition and had a yard for our dog. Well I don't even have the dog anymore... and I don't want to be in this space that used to contain my family.
I asked someone yesterday if they felt they were at home. I don't. And I haven't in a very, very long time. I tried so hard to tell myself that where my husband was... that was home. But in actuality, it wasn't. I haven't felt like I had a real home where everything was ok and safe and wonderful since I was 14 years old. I'm not blaming anyone. It's my own shortcoming that I felt out of place in some way.
I thought getting married and building a life together would fix that. I'm pretty sure that part didn't happen because we didn't have our whole life together. There were things I could never understand or be a part of and as much as I tried to make space... I was never really comfortable being left alone and left out. I wasn't comfortable when I was told what I did and did not like regardless of what I said I actually felt about it. How could I feel at home when everything I asked if we could do to our living space was flatly refused and said it was stupid, then if I asked what he wanted, I was told things were fine as they were. We didn't have to agree on everything, but I didn't try to make everything a fight. I wanted a partner. I wanted to be a partner. I thought for so long I was, but in rethinking... I wasn't. I gave up that dream a long time ago. It seemed the best option at the time...
I keep hearing that I'm going to hurt over this for years and years. It seems to be a theme and it comes from so many people. Ok, I accept that it may hurt for many years that I married someone who killed themselves. But I won't dwell in this forever. There are a lot of days that aren't bad at all. RT dying just set me back, I'm convinced. I don't like the fact that I felt I was shutting down. I don't like the shutting down thing. I think it's unhelpful in the long run, and I know for a fact it's really hard for me to deal with.
Lots on the mind today.
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