Becoming Again

Posted: June 23, 2010 in Valerie Rayne

Today has been a very warm day, ever since I got out of bed this morning. I was almost immediately angry this morning too, which just made things worse. The landlord has decided to fix up the outside of the house. Not 100% an idea that I hate, except for the fact that I feel like he’s wasting his time. Is he forgetting that all the neighbor kids come to my yard and trash it?

Then again, I can’t even say that. Because there’s a Mom down the street who gives out Freezies, so the kids have now migrated to her yard. I don’t miss it. The thing that sucks about that is now it’s impossible to get our kids to stay in our yard!

And the kids lately… I don’t even know where to begin with them. From the constant lack of listening, to the talking back and hitting, there is almost never a point where I don’t feel some sort of anger or annoyance towards them.

The only time I didn’t was when I was taking a bath yesterday, and had to take all four of the kids down there with. Those who have seen my tiny bathroom, will understand the feat that this is. They were all lined up on the outside of the bath tub, splashing and playing with toys in the water. Kaeidyn and Kenzie took turns washing my back, and it was quite a bit of fun. The first time they’ve been in the bathroom in a long time where water didn’t end up out the bathroom door. Even through Carter’s screaming and crying, it was a good time.

The lack of listening though seems to be completely out of control lately. And I’m at a complete loss of what to do. Everything that we’ve tried doesn’t seem to be working, and they just carry on not listening. Sometimes I think they do it intentionally and other times I don’t think they even know…

Things between The Boyfriend and I have felt very… strained… Not because of him at all, completely because of me and whatever is currently going on. I feel like that girlfriend that I’ve been trying not to be for so long, has just crept up and bit me on the ass.

I’m all of a sudden very jealous of the fact that he has friends, can’t stand when he doesn’t want to sit near me all the time and cuddle me, and am completely convinced that he’s no longer attracted to me and thinks horrible things about me. I’ve become the jealous, possessive psycho that I was with Alfie.

Up until now I had it very under control. I didn’t mind all sorts of things. Now, almost everything bugs me. And I hate it, because I want to figure out why all these things bug me and lately the only thing that comes to mind everytime is my stupid insecurities.

The other day we go to Bower Ponds, and I already wasn’t looking forward to it, because it’s nice warm weather here. When the weather gets nice, more and more people start taking more and more clothes off. If I was still pregnant, and had this body, I would probably sort of be in that category. Last summer I was known for wearing my short shorts and the only insecurities I felt around that was if it would make people uncomfortable seeing my cuts.

Right now, I’m in this state of mind, where I’d just like to throw on some super baggy pants and a super baggy sweatshirt and just hide all my flaws beneath my clothes. So needless to say, whenever I’m in that situation where there’s hot girls everywhere in their short shorts and bikini tops, I’m automatically thinking The Boyfriend is checking every one of them out, wishing that’s what he had instead of me. Because I have a hard time believing anyone could be attracted to me, when I’m not…

Another part of the issue with The Boyfriend stems purely from my insecurities and the fact that he’s not even attempting to help. Since my brother so nicely pointed out to me that my stomach was “looking pretty big” again, The Boyfriend has not said anything nice. When we were at my Mom’s the other day and looked in her full-length mirror and disgust spread across my face, right in front of him, he didn’t say anything reassuring. My Mom did, he didn’t.

It’s hard to feel like  he’s attracted to me when he never acts like or says that he is.

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