The Bad Teacher

Today was useless. I actually skipped class today to read my book. As pathetic as that sounds, it is even more pathetic that I didn't get that far in the book. Today was spent with Simoun. He has been here all day and I see him trying so hard to make things better but we have so many problems. Everything he says pushes my buttons. Just now, he sits with the baby and is saying things like: Mommy doesn't look at me but if I were somebody else she would. He is mumbling ot himself because he wants me to give him attention rather than write. I have been giving him attention all day and here he acts like a child.
ENOUGH talking about it. I feel bad for him and yet I cannot push the feelings away. He becomes obnoxious. He never chews with his mouth closed. He snores. He says things every other minute to annoy me, accuse me or simply to reject me. I try to talk to him and it is like talking to a nun. "I am God's chosen and do no wrong. You are the problem, dear, you."
On another note...or two...I feel my energy draining. I am trying to get up more, do more things, be more productive. The Army taught me that many more things can be done in a day than you can possibly imagine. So, I try. But there are days when depression saps me and I lie in bed for hours, sometimes all day, just to deal with the sadness that consumes me. Sometimes getting up seems too much. I will admit that today was very near one of those days. Very near. Adam was supposed to come over yesterday and he couldn't and really, it broke my heart. He can do that effortlessly.
Simoun and I have two years. Or less. We are breaking up! I can live again! One day I can live again. Because right now we are both miserable and hateful. Two years. Simoun is singing that to the baby. Two years, two years, two years. Gag.
We are exhausted now.
Mia's teacher called and says, "She is having trouble reading. She is not with her peers." I said, "She is sitting here reading with me right now and we were just talking about how great she has become." The teacher goes on to tell me Mia just can't seem to improve to another level and really I wanted to hang up the phone, get into my car, drive to the teacher's house and bitch slap the hag. Mia, having overheard everything, went into her bed, pulled the covers over her head and cried. Teachers are nasty antagonizers. I have had this experience before where I marched up to Eric's teacher and said, you shouldn't talk about him as if he is stupid while he is around. She said "sorry." But this time, it was just me standing there defending my beautiful daughter while her teacher continued to tell me how far behind Mia is and Mia caught wind of what was going on.
Poor Mia. Sometimes being a mom is heartwrenching.

Sleep, Panic and Him again.

Totally not feeling well. I hate nightmares. I feel I am still in them for hours afterward. I believe we all live nightmares just as we live everyday life. Dreaming is still living after all. While you dream, you live and you live a far more fantastic life than when you are awake.
But this is no good when you have a nightmare. The good thing about dreaming bad things and living bad things is that the dreams fade faster.
I am sick for him tonight. I just wish he were here next to me, with me, bound to me. I wish, I wish. Somedays it gets bad like this. The wanting. Like today when I am stuck in this aftermath of a nightmare because the minutes passing don't feel right. I think it's almost this faint though doubtful fear that I am still dreaming and what's real? Is this real? Was that real? This is the basis of my panic attacks. I have discovered something about them. The fear that grips me is death, just like others, but it is not a death of afterlife. It is this feeling of nonexistence. It feels as if there is a vast and meaningless nothingness and really, it is by far worse than when my nephew died, when Buffy died, when Geronimo left me that first time, when Adam was with Terri, it is worse because absolutely none of it matters. They do not exist either. Nothing does. Literally NOTHING exists. That fear can consume me and really, I wrote this poem years and years ago and Chell read it and he didn't understand it at all. I think I will try to find it and post it here. It is a very bad poem, of course, I wrote it when I was something of a preteen. But it puts the matter in words.
I had my first panic attack when I was 12. The doctor said it was growing pains. I remember it so well! I was reading scriptures and kneeling by my bed (nothing says horror like religion) and this feeling of nothingness swept through me. I will never forget it. In that same room, I saw monsters on the walls, lost my way in the dark and tried screaming bloody murder to wake someone up and open the door. I hate that room. I think I still dream about it when I dream about ghosts and fear. That time in the dark I was feeling around for the light switch, crying, sreaming and I knocked a picture off the wall and the corner of the frame hit me in the head. Hurt pretty bad.
Anyway, I miss him so much. He is so much a part of me. He is my life and my love. Always. He is the first person who I felt I could love as much as I love my own children. If I had him, I could be happy for the first time in my life.

SEVEN SUREWAY TO REPULSE YOUR LOVER

1. During sex repeat overt demands such as, "Look at it, look at it, you know you want to, just do it, just a little bit, come on, you know you want to."

2. During a serious conversation repeatedly ask moronic questions such as, "What baby?" or "What dishes?" or "You don't love my son like you do the others, do you?"

3. When your lover wakes up around 3 am slurp, crunch, suck and lick food items such as hot dogs, pineapple and cheese. Be sure to not stop eating until your lover has fallen back asleep. Add in a vociferous burp and fart.

4. After eating all night long, wake up and complain that your stomach doesn't feel right.

5. When offered alcohol, drink as much as you can, as fast as you can.

6. While your lover peacefully sleeps, consistently grab and pinch her boobs until she wakes up with horror and says, "What the hell were you doing?".

7. Scratch your balls incessantly throughout the night and then offfer the baby your finger when he cries.

He is Beautiful and I am a Hag

Why do I always get sick during school break? It makes me think of that horrible panic attack I had just after Holden. I remember thinking, I can't lose control because no one is here to take care of the baby. Then the second Simoun walks into the room a lever was shut down and my mind screamed: NOW. I had the worst panic attack of my life and only those who have had panic attacks can clearly understand what I am writing about. Breaks from school seem to go about the same way. Viruses are already in there, snoozing away, but as soon as break comes around KABOOM. They kick it in high gear. I know exactly what everyone thinks about this: It's the stress of midterms blah blah blah...and maybe that is true but I don't really give a damn. I just don't want to waste all my time being sick.
Adam looked like a god tonight. I was afraid to get too near him because I am sure he doesn't think the same way about germs as I do. I believe that any germ I get from one that I am obsessed with is a good germ.
Again, I have had serious doubt about things. I don't hear anything for days sometimes. I seem to fumble around when that happens, trying to distract myself but I always end up hurt and mad and sick to my stomach.
My love child is beautiful! How many women can brag that they have a love child? Not many. I took the chance and he is stunning, beautiful and I wouldn't take it back for anything. I would, however, take back the way I did it. Certain things, like the fact that there were many others at the time, and he could never trust me and he is too good, too godly anyway. There are too many things about him and someone else is bound to fall in love with him and he will return that love and then I am the old, lost hag. I hope not. I pray not. I don't pray at all, actually. Just hope.

Another Passive Agressive Punishment

What has he done now? He had a "talk" with the ex about me and now things are all fucked up. He did it to hurt me. I don't know what he said yet but all of it is horrible. He says it does it because he doesn't want other people to hurt me! Really? Because he hurts me more than anyone. He does it every way he can. Geronino wouldn't look at me. I didn't know he was here and I went downstairs to put in some laundry and he was sitting in Annie's room helping her with the computer. I said, "Oh, hi!" He glared at me and didn't respond. I nearly broke out into tears but made it into the laundry room to regain myself. I knew Simoun had done something. If I felt he had done something out of concern for me, I would be fine. I would be grateful. But he did something for the sole purpose of hurting me. He has done it enough times before. I asked Annie what happened and she doesn't know. I hate him. I have to fix another problem he created to hurt me. I told him we need to create a seperation plan, but of course I will do all the planning. He doesn't care enough to plan. We split up the bills (even though I don't have a job) and I paid mine and his money is gone and no bills are paid. I will have to pay them somehow. Like I always do.

Just another day, right? I really cannot stand Simoun. He is so difficult to be around. It's too much most days. Right now I wish I could take my children and move to another state, as far away from him as possible. I know that I have been in this relationship so long that I have given up a little. I have given up on ever getting away and Simoun and I can't stand each other. How do I change the way I feel towards him? I don't want him to touch me or talk to me or even do favors for me. I can't stand the way he says things, the things he does to seem good to himself, the way he fools other people into believing that he is something he isn't. At least he isn't to me. He is an embodiment of rage and discontent. He wallows in his pity. He can't move forward and I almost hate him. Almost. But not completely. I have a son that occupies so much of my heart that is part of him and that I can't deny.
BUT he is not a part of me anymore. I want to hide from him.
Here is how today has transpired. I have been content, reading, studying, cleaning. I take Holden to the park and I met a woman there. We talked about her job at the U, the job market (700 people apply every to jobs at the U) and her son who had a funny looking head but big, blue eyes. She says, "He is so cute and well, my niece is so ugly. I know most kids get cute eventually and blah blah blah..." She was interesting but a little insecure which means I could have become friender with her if I had more time. But I left to come home and Simoun wakes up. Holden is in the car crying because he wants an ice cream (he's so spoiled sometimes!) and what does simoun do? He comes into the kitchen and shuts the garage door. Slams it actually. I say-Simoun you can't leave a three year old crying kid outside by himself. So, he seems to feel a little guilty and calls Michael to come and get him. I already feel angry with Simoun and it has been less than three minutes since he woke up!
It gets worse. We end up screaming at each other over Max and he leaves call me a fucking bitch and says that I am the most evil woman he knows. Over. That's ten minutes after Simoun waking up. THAT is my life.
This is my life. For now. It can't last much longer.

It's almost amazing how my time skips and jumps between good and bad. A week ago I was under such duress that I felt the only way to cope was to sleep it away. For the last two days I have been high on life. In fact, I may be happier than I have ever been! Yet, trouble brews. I can feel it. It comes into the eyes of that ex-boyfriend I was talking about and how much, how very very much I want that ex-boyfriend to stay true to his girlfriend, soon to be wife. I know that I will feel obligated to whatever he wants and I KNOW how stupid that is and I KNOW that it gets nowhere-that kind of "pleasing." I have done it before and I look back with so much shame and embarassment. What will I say if he wants me to come over to his house? Oh, I know all the people out there who are thinking, "Well, you tell him no, of course." But really? Really? I can't!
Here is another thing. He was here a couple of days ago and I had stood him up (to his perception. Really I forgot and was drowning in midterms) and he was cruel and vicious.
I will tell him no. There is only one person in the world I want. Everyone else is pollution.
Time to think.
I worship that man. The man. The one. Not many find such a one. I live for him and will die loving him.