I was wrong.
I seem to be wrong a lot here lately.
To be perfectly honest, 2018 was really hard. It was hard on a lot of people. For many many different reasons. And to everyone out there who has gone through anything, ever, my heart goes out to you my friends. "Just give it time" and "Things will get better" aren't exactly what any of us want to hear. But in times like this, those people who say those things, they don't mean any harm. They just really don't know what to say. "I'm sorry" and "Are you OK" gets old real quick. And quite honestly, it isn't anyone's fault. They truly are sorry. They truly want to know if you are OK. They truly think that with time, things will get better. And in some respects, they might. But the reality of the situation is this. You don't have to be sorry...and ... No, I am not OK.
There are days where I wake up and think "OK. My heart isn't trying to break completely in half. Today might be OK!". Then there are all the other days. The days where you drag yourself out of bed having not slept for more then a few hours. Where the nightmares and visions in your head haunt you while you struggle just to get to the bathroom to take your shower. Getting out of the shower, looking at yourself in the mirror and being disgusted for a totally different reason then your nightmares and visions had swimming around in your head. Pushing all of those things aside and telling yourself to get it together, you have a job to do! A family to take care of! Animals that need you!
So that's what you do. You shove all those things down, take a deep breath and do what you need to do. Because not doing those things isn't an option. Ever.
And so now I am here. Trying desperately to recover my beautiful, wonderful, handy boxes. Boxes? you ask! Why yes! Thanks to an amazing friend of mine, I started using "boxes" to handle life a few years back. It was the best thing I could have done for myself at the time.
Box 1 - Things that concern you and you can do something about
Box 2 - Things that concern you, but you can't do anything about
Box 3 - Things that don't concern you
Box 4 through 100 - EXTRA in case of spillage.
When things got crazy, I put them all into their appropriate boxes. When things got crazier, I struggled to decide which box certain things belonged in. When my world seemingly fell apart, my boxes ripped apart and scattered in the wind. I have tried multiple times to get my boxes back in order. The tape isn't sticking very well and I am fairly certain that all of them are waterlogged from the torrent of tears they have weathered. I need new boxes. They will serve the same purposes but they will be a bit larger, water proof and possibly made of metal.
There will be an extra box this time. It will be titled "My Brother". And before anyone says anything, let me explain. Yes, he deserves his own box. It will have a lid and a lock and possibly be electrified on the outside. The best possible place for my feelings about my brother are in that box. Locked. Protected. Safe. Don't get me wrong. I LOVE my brother. More then he will ever know or understand. I HATE the person he has become. The person he has CHOSEN to be. And that, that is something I can't do anything about. I know this. I understand this. But the amount of ANGER I have AT him, OVER him, FOR him is suffocating. If I put anything to do with my brother in any of the other boxes with other things, they get contaminated. Tainted. At that point, there is no point to my boxes. They will fall apart, crumble, turn to ash and all those things I thought I had a handle on will be there. Laying right in front of me. Taunting me. Clawing at me. And then the illusion of control, because lets face it, control really is just an illusion, is GONE. And that is just one more thing for me to be ANGRY about.
Which brings us to this. The last conversation I had with my brother, I tried everything I could think of to NOT fight with him. But because a fight is what he wanted, its what he got. HE did this. Not me. I have done nothing but bend over backwards when he needed me. Every accident. Every rumor. Every break up. Every time someone hurt him and he couldn't handle it. I was there. And, God help me, I will be there when he really needs me in the future. But at this point, I can't handle the lying, the manipulation, the guilt that isn't my own being forced upon me. And I told him so. I have to protect my daughter at this point. And so here is where we sit. My own brother is not welcome around me or my daughter. He is toxic to everyone he comes into contact with. And until he realizes that this is no one's fault but his own and CHOOSES to make better decisions, it will stay this way.
So he gets his own box.
I don't really care about much these days if I am being honest. Everyday is a struggle, whether the people around me see it or not. I have gotten pretty good at hiding those silly things called emotions. Its only when my boxes are all over the place that things leak out. I go through each day the best I can. I try to keep myself busy because my brain loves to make me think of things I would much rather NOT think about. There is a lot of anger and sadness that I hold on to. No amount of "I'm sorry"'s could help that. 99% of the time, the anger overrides every other emotion in my body. Its irrational and stupid, but that's where I am currently. Its where I have been.
My weight loss journey is pretty well at a standstill. I don't care about eating better. I don't care that I feel like complete shit when I eat ramen noodles with a bologna and cheese sandwich. And I certainly don't give two shits about anyone giving my fat ass side eye while I do it. I. Just. Don't. Care. Until I look in the mirror of course. Then, then I care. Why am I this way? Why can't I just get my shit together? and then...Whats the point? None of this matters. So I lose weight and am 'healthy'. So what? Will that really change the person that I see in the mirror? Will that change the WAY I see myself? I'm thinking NO. Even when I was much much lighter, I always saw a fat cow in the mirror. Always. I don't know that I will ever see anything other than that. And that causes me anger too. Because Damn It! I am strong and beautiful and smart and funny. I have given birth to two children, one being an Angel. I have accomplished things I never thought I could. I have ridden and trained some amazing horses. I have overcome fears and stood up for myself after years of just lying down and taking it. I am pretty fucking awesome. I have the best friends anyone could ask for. I ROCK! So why do I hate myself so much?
And then, then there is the gaping hole in my heart. The hole that I cant seem to fill, to fix. The hole that is far bigger then I, or anyone, thought possible. I'm not ready to face that quite yet. Not in writing at least. Hell, just my husband mentioning it brings me pain beyond belief. I wasn't ready then...I'm still not ready now.
