MyBlueFunk

I’m feeling a bit calmer than I was in my previous post, but I’m still mad.

Well I’m a lot of thngs .. mad, angry, pissed, sad, alone, fed-up, broken-down, defeated.  Pissed.

My boss … let me try to sort this out in my own mind.  The reality is she is like 2 differnt people. She’s either extremely empathtic – to the point where she’d make a great therapist.  Or she’s callous – to the point that she scares me.

The 2nd personality doesn’t show itself very often but the more I get to know her the more I can see she’s battling it.  I can understand that. I get it. I admit I have a similar side to my personality. She’d never admit that.

We’ve had some very serious conversations about mental health and our backgrounds, but she really doesn’t see that side of her – or she doesn’t admit it. I saw her one time freak out at her husband to the point that I was nervous and embarassed.  It really unnerved me and left me feeling scared.

Scared. That’s a weird word that I keep using when I describe that nasty side of her. It kind of reminds me of how my mother would freak out when I was a kid. But she didn’t behave that way when we got older. When we were kids I’m sure lots of times she was overwhelmed and when she was it came out as this really scary woman!  But also, I was a kid, and she was my otherwise nice mother, so it all seemed even that more scary.

It’s weird how this woman can remind me a bit of my mother in that context.  I think it does make me revert to that child … feeling scared.  So is it my boss or is it me who’s the problem here?

The thing is – my mother never behaved like that in public and never behaved like that when we got older.   So I don’t get why this woman would be like that in the workplace. Thank god she doesn’t have kids.  The other thing is, ultimately I ended up having a good relationship with my mother … so I don’t think it’s weird left-over feelings for her that’s making me react this way. I think that the boss is just a really troubled person and a very manipulative one as well. She’s the type that has to be a martyr. I hate that. My mother was never that so there’s no comparison to be made there.

The boss is also extremely religious to the point that it can become obnoxious, especially for someone like me who doesn’t believe in any of that crap – with all due respect to those who do believe.  I get fed-up with people who act all high & mighty and then behave horribly.  And again, it’s the martyr thing that always comes up with her. It gets mighty boring mighty fast, I gotta say.

Anyway, regardless of all the psycho drama in my head – she’s got enough psycho drama for the 2 of us.  I never behave like that in public. Rarely do in private.  It’s just too bad that none of her bosses ever really see the full extent of her behaviour. They’d be concerned I’m sure.  She wasn’t at all stable today.

As for family, they’re always telling me how I’m not alone, yada, yada. That’s only true when it’s convenient for them. I mean, what am I doing tomorrow – it’s Canada Day, a holiday, and since most of them are out of town on vacation or home and have decided not to do anything – then I’m going to be alone.  No one ever includes me in their activities unless they’re having a family get-together, and then I’m part of the family. They don’t get it.

You know, when I had a husband and a house and a nice yard with a pool I always invited everyone – not that they came.  My parents stayed at another siblings home – one where they didn’t have a guest room, like my house did. So why was that? Basically it was because they’d rather not spend time with me given the choice. Pretty simple to see that.

So it’s like the chicken and the egg. Which comes first – do people not want to be around me because I they don’t like me or am I not enjoyable to be around because I know people don’t want to be around me.  Whatever. Who cares at this point in my life.

And sure, it’s not like I can’t go out and do something on my own, but to be honest – after 15 years of doing that, I’m sick of it.  I’m sick of being the one who can live on her own, be independent, go out to events or whatever alone because that’s just what I did.

I’m sick of it.

I also know I’ll never meet someone, not at my of stage life. I’m almost 50 and look at all the fucking bagage I have. There’s no way I can get my shit together at this point in my life to find someone. And if I did get my shit together … like I’m going to be able to find some shit-free man who also has his life together. Highly unlikely.

I knew this when I was in my 30s and everyone told me I was wrong. But I was right. I’m not the kind of woman men want – regardless of all the kind things people say to me or about me.  The reality is I’m fat and men don’t want fat women – I’m not saying all men are shallow and I’m not saying men don’t have fat wives that they love, but the majority of them loved them before they became fat.  I’m not in that situation. There’s no way a man would chose me over a thin woman given that we have the same personality traits. No way.

I’m completely and totally damaged goods in that department and I know it.  It’s hard to deal with but the reality is I’m alone now, have been for 15 years and will be for the rest of my life and whatever I say to make myself feel better about that – it just isn’t easy. It’s not easy being alone.

Having said all that – I do remember being married and being in a relationship and I know that’s not all it’s cracked up to be either. But considering all the factors one thing is for sure – it’s really nice to have someone on your side. Someone who understand you after a bad day.  Having no one day after day after day after day … it’s really, really hard.

It wears ya down after a while.  It’s been 15 years. That’s a long time to have to keep lifting up my spirits on my own.  That’s a long time to be my own cheerleader.  I’ve been doing it but the past few years I’ve become so beaten down.

And yes, I did have a few sexual relationships in the past 15 years, but that’s all they were – not emotional relationships. The men didn’t even really know me.  The last man I was involved with – it was just sex.  So yes, there are men who do find me attractive or who will have sex with me, whatever. Sex is easy to get – real connection like an emotional connection, damn – that’s so rare and much harder to find so I’ve given up. It’s just not going to happen.  So day by day I fade away.

Last year was like a fucking fog. I hibernated in this fucking apartment and just kinda died a little.  It’s days like this that remind me how exhausted I really am.  To the outside world I’m more together – but I have to say over the past few years it’s been harder to keep up that veneer.  Even I can see that it’s cracking.  I fear soon everyone will be able to see what’s really inside – god help me. Not that I believe in god – but whatever.  When that day comes they’ll be loading me in to a looney van.

I really am finding it hard to keep up appearances.  I’ve been worn down. Worn down. A lifetime of missed opportunities and regrets.  A life that’s been passed by.  I can’t seem to grab hold of life to live it again.  It’s pretty terrifying, actually.

Anyway – all just my thoughts … trying to get them out of my fucking head.  All in the hopes that I’ll have some peace tonight – but I doubt it.  I hate my life.

I don’t know what’s worse.  Knowing and admitting that I hate my life.  Or living like I have been for the past few years where I just ignore those thoughts.

I’m really not sure at this point which is worse.