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September 01, 2006

Strongoo than yesterday

"September ... a fresh start" (O Magazine)
"[Life] is demanding of me, 'Start again. Begin new things. Again set to work to build your world.' " (Jean Toomer)

What I really want for my life is for it to be different from what it is now. Now that I'm not taking Cymbalta any more I realize how much I thought about ending my life; I thought about it every day, practically. The thought of not having to do anything, ever again, was like a beautiful song in my brain that I couldn't get rid of. But, of course, I got rid of it with the drug, and here I still am.

But here I still am.

What I really want for my life is for it to be different. I want something different. I feel overwhelmed by my house with its messes, and the decks that need replacing, and the paint that needs touching up, and the carpeting that needs cleaning, and the kitchen that seems to always be have dirty dishes everywhere in it. I feel overwhelmed by how bad a job I'm doing with Moo and Herself, Herself has a cold and Moo is an insomniac, and nothing I do seems to help, and Herself wants to make a cake, not peach pie, she hates peach pie, so what am I going to do with the five pounds of peaches getting wrinkly in the refrigerator?, and how I'm always too busy to pay real attention to them, and how I dread the school year more than they do, probably, because of the arguments about homework, and the inevitable science project, and the teacher conferences, and coaxing Herself through mathematics.

Two years ago The Husband moved out and I'm a bit surprised to find that I still want to be married to him, no matter what else I might say or try to make myself mean when I say it; that's the bald, ridiculous truth of it, the awful, exhausting truth. I still love The Husband, and I still want him, and I can't seem to stop waiting around for him to come to his senses. God, I hate that. This yearning, ridiculous, which nobody else understands how I can still feel, sucks everything into it, and meanwhile there are the bills and the car and the back-to-school supplies, and the rest of the world, all walking around like things are normal, and the peaches, unloved by everybody but me.

Posted by JudyLa at 11:30 PM | Comments (0)