No, as a matter of fact I can’t get the laundry out of the dryer where it’s been since 3 days ago which was the last time I could bend over and use my fine motor skills to grab things.
No, I don’t have any ideas for dinner. No, I didn’t load up the two year old and go to the UPS store, the post office and the grocery store today. But yes, as a matter of fact I will load up the two year old 3 times next week to make it to different appointments for which I am in charge of scheduling, finding child care and producing the co-pays.
No I do not want to chat on the phone. No I do not want to get in my car, heave my bad leg up into the seat, and drive an hour to have a cup of coffee with you. No, I cannot have company because no, I cannot clean my house and I’m the only one that lives in it who gives a shit.
No, we can’t have a bonfire in the yard because there is a cat that was dropped off here 10 months ago that has decided my gravel path and the dirt directly under my deck is her litter box. No, I can’t make the decision to kill her, so no, I can no longer use the yard I spent four months renovating this spring.
No Jack, you cannot go into the backyard becuase no, I can’t chase you through the space between the stairs and under the deck where there is a huge pile of glass from the bowl that you shattered last week, whose pieces fell through the boards. No, I can’t work the saw or the drill at this moment so no, the steps cannot be child-proofed. Because why in the world would anyone else bother with the saw and drill, since this problem is only a problem when the kid is outside, and everyone knows children only go outside during the day with their mothers.
No, I will not take the car to the shop to get the codes read and this time I will not research the problem, buy the parts, and repair the car. You know why? Because after I’m done will all that, MY WORK WILL STILL BE HERE waiting for me in the house. The car can go to the shop like normal cars do. It’s the shop or the housekeeper, but either way EVERYTHING COSTS.
For instance: I have a new hobby. It’s inexpensive for the most part, and it’s keeping me from killing myself or my family, and I mean that in the literal sense.
However the hobby is about to get very expensive because during the weeks I’ve been embracing my new hobby while making the transition between sane and insane, the entire system that governs the house has fallen apart. there’s no such thing as grocery shopping, or laundry, chores or throwing diapers in the trash. Teeth don’t get brushed. The bathrooms reek of piss. We go to the gas station for junk food every single day and last week we had pizza four times.
No I do not want to “clean” the house by making piles of things that we’re trying to get rid of, and pushing those piles to the back of the closet.
No, wiping the counter tops in the bathroom doesn’t= cleaning it, and no, flushing the toilet does not eliminate the stench of urine that’s part of the hinges on the lid.
No I do not want to hear about how many other sadder, more challenging stories there are out there. No, it is not lost on me that I am one person taking care of one person all day, not a frazzled mother of four toddlers who hears voices and somehow manages to complete her masters is Russian History using online classes while working as a telemarketer to make ends meet.
I get it. I am lucky. The child eats. We’re not homeless. I don’t have cancer. I am in control. Life is suffering. Everything that I am experiencing is a result of a choice that I have made. I am responsible. This is the life that I built for myself.
I am having a bad day, that is one of a string of bad days, that is part of a larger cloud of years of watching a life spring up around me that I cannot sustain, of watching myself become a person that I do not recognize in a relationship I do not recognize.
I don’t even watch TV or read magazines or even other people’s blogs because those lives are what I wanted for myself, those marriages are what I aimed for. My normal is fine so long as I don’t ever have to witness anyone else’s normal.
So no, thanks. I don’t want to have dinner. I don’t want to double date. I don’t want to have a lunchtime chat where we talk about your promising career or your incredible grades at your part time college or your gifted children (who are playing quietly in the corner).
No, I don’t want to put my (formidable) sales skills to use to make the world a better place through biodegradable, affordable cleaning products. As a matter of fact, no I DON’T care about helping mothers just like me.
No. I don’t care. No.
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