I’m tired again.
I hear it come out of my mouth. I can count the repetition.
I know he’s reacting to it, but I still ask “what’s wrong?” as if I have no clue that the great evil depression is taking over.
I say “I’m fine”. I say, “I’m just tired.” I say, “Nothing.”

I feel severe. I feel overloaded. I feel left out. I feel tired.

The girls are sensing it too.
The little one cuddles more. She’s quieter. She’s more thoughtful. This makes me feel like a piece of shit.
The older one turns up the bitch. Intensifies the attitude. Talks louder. This makes me feel defeated.

If Dad notices, I haven’t noticed.

Something has to trigger it.  Somehow I knew, even while I was praising you that you would let me down. Because in a lot of ways, you’ve always let me down.
I’m like your dog that sits by the door and waits for you to come home. And sometimes I get really pissed waiting, but then I hear the key in the lock and I get all excited and I just don’t care anymore that you hurt me, or left me alone, or forgot about me. Again.

And that is the heart of it. Accidents happen. Mistakes are made. These things are made up for with gestures of kindness and genuine feelings of guilt.
Occasionally.
But with you, I expect you to fail. It is like your special gift. If this situation were baseball, you would have a percentage of failure.
I want to be really mad at you.
I want you to feel hurt, too.
But it won’t happen. You don’t see me as being as important as I see you.

So I’ll just sit and wait by the door for you key. And forgive you. Like always.

But I digress.
It’s not all about the trigger. There are other things. I am surrounded by chaos. Nothing in my life is controllable anymore. I have no schedule. No one follows my rules. No one seems to be helping me.

I want to cry (and I am) but I feel foolish and self serving. I know it isn’t doing me a bit of good. I know it won’t make a fucking difference. I know, in the end, everything will always be exactly the same. The same arguments. The same dishes. The same bullshit. The same laundry.
I was looking forward to working on something I love. Something I cherish. Something that I can do in my time. In my head. But now I will have to wait. Again.