Nobody in Russia is really following this blog...

“There is the solitude of suffering, when you go through darkness that is lonely, intense, and terrible. Words become powerless to express your pain; what others hear from your words is so distant and different from what you are actually suffering.”
― John O'Donohue, Anam Cara: A Book of Celtic Wisdom

 

I really hate whining. So everyone should just forgive me this post. I have to express this somewhere, and I'm quite sure nobody wants to hear my bullshit. At least here, you can skip it. I'll never know.I debated whether or not to even publish this, but I'm going to anyway. Writing about this crap makes me feel better. So it's worth it.

Falling into a pit sucks. I used to do it a lot, not so much anymore. So when it happens, it seems really brutal. Partly it's the weather. Days on end of gloom and cold. I couldn't even get excited and wonderous about the snow last night. Sick to my stomach, I had to leave work early yesterday, and I just came home, got in bed, and stayed there. Rarely do I just sit there with a class of kids and feel no enthusiasm. Now, much of this was the fear that I was going to have to run to the bathroom at any moment and puke. But there are things dragging me down other than just being ill.

But kids really don't get that. Children are necessarily self-centered (Maslow's Hierarchy of Needs, y'all). You can't usually just say "Hey kids I'm really sick today, could you just behave?", and they do. They weren't really bad or anything, it's just when you feel crappy everything is amplified. One little boy wrote "shit" on his artwork and folded it into a paper airplane. I'm not sure if this was some sort of self-critique or if he just wanted to express some primal naughtiness. Either way, it really irritated me. First graders just don't understand that, even on the best of days, their teachers have to keep up with one million things at once, and that a little bit of mischief is very aggravating to an adult that feels like vomiting and bursting into tears at at once.

The older I get, the less I like the holidays. I'm not a total grump. Seeing people I love and gathering with friends and family is always enjoyable. But it also reminds me  of what I've always wanted and never had, which is a family of my own. People will always say "You don't need a man!" "You don't need anything!" "You are independent and creative and you should be happy!" Should be... Wow, do I get tired of being told how I 'should' feel.

As for those things people say, I suppose I don't *need* a man. If I wanted just anyone, I guess I could get that. But what I want is what a lot of people I know have, a happy loving relationship. I've always been picky, and I'm told that's a good way to be, and that it will pay off in the end. Generally, I agree. Still, I go on Facebook and people are always posting things about how great their husband is, or pictures of them all happy and smiling. I'm always happy for them but it makes me feel lonelier. Though I'm not stupid and I know nobody is happy all the time. That's another thing people tell me. Usually though, people who say that don't know what they have, or what life would be like without it.

At what point do I just give up? 

Nobody has to be me. I'm kind of a weirdo. I'm not a pretty girl. I have an odd way of thinking and saying things. I'm independent in a lot of ways. Technically, I really don't *need* a relationship. I usually get by just fine. But being independent is still quite lonely. Being sick just makes it worse. There's nobody I can ask to get me a glass of water, or to rub my back. Small things that most people who are paired up take for granted.

If I didn't have my little creatures I'd be completely mental right now.

I didn't think about it that much when I was on cancer treatment. Though I think having a supportive partner would have helped. Mom was there through a lot of it, especially the brutal first few months. I'm ever grateful for that. After I finished treatment, I experienced several months of euphoria. Nothing much could get me down. But I have since come out of that and it's a real drag. If I didn't have my little creatures I'd be completely mental right now, though the two in the photo here are looking awfully smug.

And I will probably be just fine in a few days. The sun will come out. My illness will pass. I'll be able to get out and get some exercise. Maybe the holidays will start to be more fun. Who can say.

I'm actually usually nowhere near as pathetic as this post makes me sound. But I would like to know if anyone besides Russian robots are reading this blog. So please, comment or 'follow', or send me an email if you want, just to say hi. When I started this thing, I didn't care if people read it. But now I'm not so sure. Who am I talking to? Let me know.