My mind is not right tonight. It wants to lose itself. It wants to completely sink into oblivion, to drown in some substance that will allow my mind to be numb until it experiences a current of electricity that lends life to my world.

Tonight, the man that I love dearly called to tell me how quiet it was at his house, and that he likes it that way. And he seemed to think I wanted that too--permanently. It made me realize how much I need some kind of energy current through my life--and that I think life in a quiet home will be a bit too over the top for me. Yet, I crave a quietness--but only if I can somehow control it, control when it is quiet and when it is not. To feel like I can commune with crazy people even as I enjoy the stillness of an empty day.

I think I'm rebelling. Against all that he is, all that I think makes him wonderful. He's quiet, slim and intelligent. He has good common sense and thinks things through before making decisions. These are all traits I truly admire and wish I did more--yet, I want to scream as loud as I possibly can, to enjoy life and all it holds. And not just enjoy it, but enjoy it the tne "N"th degree.

And as I long for this, I feel the depths of despair deeply inside me. I feel like I want the despair to completely envelop me within the very deepenst center of its angst, so entrenched inside the pain that it completely seals me from all the good that life has to offer. I want to wallow in the depths for what would seem like forever. Somehow, I believe these depths will make me truly feel every possible ennervation that my body will allow. And, one that has been accomplished, I think reality will be totally stupendous.

In reality, I know you don't need to feel horrible to truly experience joy, but somehow I am thinking that it would make me more appreciate the glory if I truly experience that low in the depths--and, somehow, I just think that is my goal: to be feel totally engaged in the depths of darkness.

It's not good to feel like this, but I feel like I will never be excitingly happy--but the angst the completely surrounds me in despair will truly make me feel whole. Too, I'm hoping that writing this will help me realize the insanity in wanting to be drowning in despair. When I write, it helps me feel better...unfortunately, it doesn't seem to be happening this time, so I think I'll sign off now. Maybe tomorrow will be a better day.

My Sunday School teacher taught me
That I am a beautiful person
'Cuz, “God don't make no junk,” said she,
Or , at least, that's my own version.

Too, my high school teacher taught me
That studying will make you smart;
Education is the only
Proper way for good lives to start.

The father of my children taught me
That love overcomes all the pain,
And, when he left, I was lonely
Until all my tears fell like rain.

My brain took and learned these lessons,
And now know their truth time lessens.

Yesterday, I felt fantastic. Today, I feel horrible. Physially, emotionally and mentally. I just want to find a way to block it out, to be numb and not think.

I went to work, and it was very busy and very stressful. That was expected after being gone one day. But it shouldn't be like it is. There should be a calm day where one thing blends into another, making life interesting but not stressed out. But this job is extremely stressful, and you are warned of this when you accept the job. But you aren't told how much the issues insinuate themselves into every part of your life. And how when you give all you have at the job, then there's nothing left for at home.

And I get home and don't feel much better, and even am now feeling sorry for myself. My mind bounces up and down, and I would love to have it kind of even out, to simply move forward in a manner that allows me to really feel emotions without needing to be at one extreme or the other. I always feel fantastic or awful. There's no in between. And I want there to be a between. I don't think I'm asking for much. But what I think and what I get are two different things.

And I'm beginning to think that I need to try to get what I want. I just really have to figure out what I want.

I played hookie today. I took a personal day and just stayed home to be lazy. I needed to find my space, to find my place in the crazy world. And it has been a good day. I read. I cooked chicken noodle soup from scratch--even making the noodles from scratch.

I also found that I loved being myself, and no one was around to tell me that I should do what they wanted, the way that they wanted. And no one was there to tell me that I was not doing things correctly. I'm sure that's coming, but today I felt good.

I also decided that if I didn't work all the time, then maybe I'd feel better about myself and my home. I work all week and every other weekend. And on the opposite weekends I usually go to my friend's home. I think maybe I need to change my schedule and spend more time at home with me.

I love my friends. I really do. But I think I have to really start to implement the idea that I can't be a friend to others until I'm a friend to myself.

My head hurts tonight. And I'm not in the most happy of moods. And I am somewhat resentful of life, at least of my life. I want to cry, and I want my headache to go away, and I want to be happy.

Tomorrow night I am going to one my niece's baby showers. She is living with the father, who is about 20 years older than her. I have no problem with that. That is her business. But what I resent is that I called my son, who told me that his girlfriend would go and they would make sure to send a relatively high-costing gift--because, he said, he wants to not look cheap. Not just cheap, but cheap like I and my kids have always been viewed by my original family. That was what he said, not what I said. And it made me somewhat resentful, almost outright angry.

When I was a young girl, we were on welfare. I don't know anyone who had less money than we had. And after my husband left me, I struggled very hard, but my kids always had decent, clean clothes to wear to school--and they had what they needed, and not just basic stuff. When I was a kid, my mom couldn't afford for us to get a DQ ice cream cone more than once a year---and then, it had to be a very, very special occasion. My kids couldn't survive without visiting a fast food restaurant every couple days, if not every day now that they're older.

And my brothers and sisters weren't much better. One sister married very well, and she is good for life. One brother makes decent money and isn't married, so he does OK. However, the rest are not exactly rolling in the dough. One brother, I will admit, seems to have money. He's the one that I really get upset with about things that have happened in our family life at his instigation. And I honestly believe--though I can't prove it--that he was so financially bad off at one time that he took a very drastic and legally-chancey action to rectify that. And, once he started to get on his feet, then he started to think he was better than the rest of us--and it is him that my son is looking up to. I won't ever tell him what I think, but it makes me so mad to think that he feels like he has to prove that he is as good as this man, and my son stands a mile above his uncle. He doesn't have to prove anything!

And as for the rest of this family, those who married spouses that knew a good work ethic did OK. The rest struggled a lot, and we are still struggling. And we have nothing to be ashamed of--and it hurts to think that my kids have to feel like they need to prove something.

When I was little, I felt like I had to prove a whole lot more. I can't describe how horrible it was for us. To this day, my childhood influences my life, and I really am beginning to resent it. I want to throw something and make that life worth something, to make the pain mean something. But even when I get old, no matter how financially stable I might be, my kids will never know from where I came. No one can know that horrible place. It is a horrible, horrible place--and one that I am surprised was even survivable. But I won't stand up and tell the world that they need to feel sorry for me, or even that they have to recognize my value relative to that time. They just need to recognize, somehow in a way that is communicated to me, that I am a valuable person that has contributed much to life.

And my soft, warm baby blanket and baby pajama/gown will have to be enough to meet the standards of an aunt's gift. I don't have to prove my value by spending a lot of money. My niece should know that my most valuable gift will be that I will be there for her whenever she needs me, and I will be a good aunt. I don't need to spend money to be there for her, but it sure would help.