Dear God,

I have been needing to write you a letter for a long time, but I've lost momentum, lost the desire, gotten interrupted and just plain haven't done it. But I need to. And today is the day.

See, the thing is, and let me be blunt here, I'm tired. Of. it. all. I'm tired of being fat. I'm tired of being sad. I'm tired of complaining, of seeing the glass half empty, of seeing my lack. I'm tired of being angry and not really knowing why. I'm tired of being tired, and lacking the desire and motivation to get off my ass, and do something about my life.

I'm tired, HEAR THIS, I'm TIRED of not having any joy, of not being able to count my blessings.

Do you have any idea how embarrassing it is to be in a prayer meeting and NOT be able to think of something you have been thankful for in the last YEAR! I'm sure I sound like an extremely ungrateful miserable person. But you know what? I AM. And I H.A.T.E. IT. i hate it i hate it i hate it i hate it. I hate feeling miserable 90+% of the time. I am not this person, and I don't want to be this person. So please, would you tell me how to get out of this?

I am a crappy mom, a crappy wife, a crappy daughter, sister, friend. I yell / spank / scream / throw things / say things I shouldn't way. too. often. I complain / am moody /am unadmitingly ungrateful for the fact that I have 4 beautiful, perfectly healthy children who are amazing souls that have been gifted to me. And I'm too busy being crappy to notice. I don't truly appreciate my husband for who he is, what he does, what he contributes, what he gives to me and our family, how you move in his life. Mostly I see that he's not around enough, not involved enough, that he's a spoiled, demanding brat (which he is) that doesn't seem to have any emotions, care about mine or anyone else's, and just lives to satisfy his own selfish nature. Who doesn't go to church with me and shows little sign of ever doing so. Or of having any interest in having our own spritual discussions together. And i see that all from my own selfish point of view. And let's not forget,  just last week, when a friend said she was having a hard time, my response was, "hm, that's too bad." And I only felt obligated to ask what was wrong, not because I cared or wanted to know. Because I was having my own bad day.

Just when exactly did I become selfish and why? Isn't marriage and motherhood supposed to hone you into a finer being, not make you worse?

And let's just talk about that anger. I've mentioned this to you before. But you seem to be ignoring me, and let me tell you, that PISSES ME THE F OFF. Now it's easy to blame it all on that stupid roommate I had, as the wonderful parting gift she left me, but I'm sure it came long before that. Kind of like a sleeping giant. Because it is giant. I'm angy at how you have a history of not answering my prayers. Of not speaking to me when I ask. Of not giving me the wisdom and answers on how to be a better mother, on meeting my children's needs, on being a better wife to my challenging husband that I do truly love. I need you, and I want you. And yes, I hear from you. But it would be nice, for once, to hear from you about little old selfish fat sad angry me, instead of everyone else. Talk to me. I can take it. Tell me all the crap I need to change. Show me all my flaws. Rip my heart out. Just don't stomp on it. And certainly, don't just say nothing.

So many questions and hurts that seem to lay buried, but the cemetery might be flooding and all those dead are popping to the surface.

The most recent being the whole deal with the miscarriage. Now I get that's life, and those things happen. And though I'm sad about that loss of life, why did you have to let my joy be robbed in the process. Aren't you supposed to protect me? I was defenseless then, and now it's gone. As the tears endlessly run down my face, believe me when I say, I want it back.

I'm a ruined mess.

Most days this monster, this giant, stays in check, not rendering me helpless or hopeless. Not making an ugly appearance for all the world to see. It's mostly hidden. But there's sure a lot of clouds. I could use a sunny day. A sunny week. A sunny freaking year. A new and improved me. And I think my children would greatly benefit from having a different mom. They really are the innocent victims here. And I really hate seeing my own bad behaviors and habits replicated in my children. It's the worst. mirror.  e v e r. And one that brings more guilt, and condemnation, and more feelings of being overwhelmed with life. ugh.

See, now even I'm getting bored with my complaining.

But from the bottom of my heart.

pretty please.

with all the sugar in the world.

Can i please have some joy? Can I pleeeaaase come out of this deep dark pit?

I need your help. I can't do this alone. I just can't do all this all by myself. Most of the time, I feel like I can't do it at all.

Blah.

And for anyone else reading this, I'm not sure if I should be posting it. So if you have any thoughts on the subject, please feel free to email me. Thanks.

snarl

I will warn you. You should just probably stop reading now. Really. The following is just a bunch of crabby babble. Melancholic musings of a mad mommy. Mad as in loco and angry. I may not even publish it. It's really that bad.

I have this really annoying character flaw. It's annoying to me because I have a hard time changing it, so it makes me stuck in it. And because it's a flaw, it is not a good thing. See, when I have a mood, it permeates everything, and I share it.. I can't put on a happy face for anyone. (I doubt my children will ever accuse me of being two-faced.) You know how mom's can go from screaming at you one minute, then the phone rings, and wham-o, "hi, how are you" sweet-like-honey comes out. Nope. Not me. Can't do it. Much to the dismay of Holly at some bill collectors office, I'm sure. Poor gal called at the. wrong. time. She kept asking me why I was mad at her. Stupid girl wouldn't end the conversation.

I am who I am, no facades, no masks, just me in all my shitty glory. (sorry for that but I am shitty. and I swear occasionally). So I share my glorious mood with whomever happens to cross my path. I should stick a warning sign on my forhead. "Run. Fast."

I also have a hard time getting out of that mood. It takes  m u c h  concious effort on my part. And lately (ok, since, like, August), I just don't have the energy for the effort. I try sometimes, and it all goes awry. Nothing works out. It all ends in disaster. And then it's worse. So I live a life of crappy attitudes, negative outlooks, and critical existence. I'm always tired, always stressed, always mad about something. Life is always too much for me to deal with. I'm always overwhelmed. I always see the obstacles, and can't find the rainbow to any rainstorm.

Don't you wish you were me?

And who would want to talk to someone like that, hang out or even make small chit chat. Who wants to read a blog by Negative Nelly? I doubt anyone really wants to waste their time bring themselves down by my negative commentary on life in the mommy lane.

The problem is, I'm getting sick of this, but don't know how to change it. I don't know how to find my happy, to laugh, to smile.

Not every day is a bad day, but no day is a really good day.

I want escape from my life. From my house, my responsibilities, my children.  I want to run away, to a far away place, where I can't hear cries, and demands, and arguing, and whining. Where people don't complain about what you didn't do, but in fact are grateful and appreciative for all that you do (and sorry, I don't care if those people are 3 or 33). I want to walk across a room and not be disgusted. I want to accomplish tasks and not have them undone a minute later. I want to stop screaming and being angry and discontent. I want to find the joy in my children. See my blessings for what they are.

Instead, I just sit here, listening to my son scream his bloody head off for an hour. Or so. I just want him to shut up.

This sticking my head in the sand thing is not working.

Have a nice day. Aren't you glad you read this drivel? I promise, some day I'll have something nice and pleasant or at least pensive and thought provoking to say. For now, it's just a pity party on my block.