Today is the culmination of little things that have gotten to me. I succumb to the weight of it all. I admit it has eroded my soul. I see the dust of my soul being swept aside in the busyness of the guys at work. I can’t even cry. I’ve been wrung of my tears.
I’m asking M about his job. While we chat, P comes up and asks M what choice of soft drink he’d like. They are free, in the staff room. M states his choice and P goes off to get it. I wasn’t asked, or even spoken to. This is my every day. Happens ALL the time. I am invisible. M shook his head in disbelief and stated that P didn’t ask me! Umm… yeah. This is my world, M. Welcome.
I try SO hard to stay afloat mentally. I don’t drink, gamble, do drugs, eat my emotions or resort to violence. I find ways to self soothe. Healthy ways to show my boys that we can rise above it. But they watch me sink a little further each day. Today, I am struggling to keep my car in a straight line.
It seems dumb; to allow whatever energy these men give/take away to affect me. The problem is, I have had this all my life. I know no better, or different. I tried for a good 40 years to play it their way. It near killed me. I cannot keep doing it. I am, however, determined to find a way to keeping my job and being in equilibrium mentally. I will not succumb to this state permanently. I cannot. Better efforts have been made to derail me, and I’m still here.
Battle weary, battle scarred and heavy hearted, but I’ll pick myself up and pretend I’m ok. But I’m not FUCKING OKAY. I don’t know what will make me ok. Maybe nothing? I would not know ok if it bit me in the butt.
I am wanting a different 44 years from the last 44. Sadly, I have no talent to bring me respect, I have no beauty to trade and no wealth to buy my way in. Like a prisoner in solitary confinement, all I have is my will and my bare hands to find a way to escape. I expect no mercy from my jailors any more. I’ve waited 44 years. It won’t be coming. If anything, it will get worse.
I have had a dream. To say FUCK YOU to the world, I KNEW I WOULD! I haven’t. Not yet. I have a spark of hope it might, but a greater expectation I will die as my grand mother died and the way it looks for my mum. Invisible, unwanted and insignificant.
All I have ever wanted (and I feel ill to admit this) is to feel unconditional love. For one day. To know I matter and that my efforts are not in vain. That I AM ok. Just as I am.
I have striven to be the ‘good’ daughter, the model employee, the ‘trophy’ wife, the ‘brilliant’ student. It has left me in the same place as everyone else. Not a thing has come of it. If anything, complete disappointment and abandonment of me when my ‘good’ effort dropped. I became that dust swirling around on the floor, unseen by anyone.
To the guys at work, I am a sexual object, a mother, invisible nothing, an apprentice and never a woman with a mind and a soul. It says volumes about their very closed minds, and virtually nothing about me. It should not even matter what they think of me. But it does. And I don’t know why. I am struggling to be me – whatever that entails.
People say that my boys value me. Not really. I am their mother. I have custody of them til they fly on their own. They love me as mum – not Kate, the person.
I have poured my being into motherhood and now my job. These two things get the best of me. I think it is time to fluff my own nest and look to finally developing deeper self value. Let me bend down to reclaim that dusty soul and make soup out of it. I promise to keep my car on the road. Just. One. More. Day.