I have lived in this room for 11 days. I was accused of stealing her tupperware within 24 hours. I happened to have the same one, but it did not matter. I was accused of stealing her things. Her sorry was half ass and then she still said that hers was missing.
I have received a text while at work from her saying that a neighbor came pounding on her door complaining that I did not pick up my dog’s poop. I did not even know what to say to that one. Now the neighbor that did it has made it is clear who he is and gives me dirty looks when he sees me. Great.
The other day I came home from work during my lunch to get a salad from my food in the frig and I let Morgan out in the backyard. In the midst of trying to eat something that was good for me, I forgot to close the backdoor. I texted her to let her know and she laid in on me about someone breaking into her home. I did not do it on purpose and I said I was sorry. It did not matter.
So, I live with a bully. This is where I will be for the next six months. I have no space in the cabinets in the kitchen and therefore, can not eat or cook in the kitchen. I have just been skipping meals or eating crap I have bought on my credit card. I do not know what to do about it all. I feel like I have just a room and judgement.
I talked to her friend that she tried to hook me up with. Friend, yup, I can see how they would be friends. It was not for my best interest, it was for hers. She likes his supervisor. She wanted to do possibly a double date with them or something. She saw a way to manipulate me into seeing her friend to get to the one that she wanted.
When I just came home from my walk, she asked if I used perfume. I told her no. I know from her facebook account that she sells it on the side. You can treat me like crap and yet, still try to get something else out of me.
It is all good. I will keep living in the shame I am very familiar with while I live here. You will keep treating me like nothing as it gets you to a place where you feel good about you. You will continue to push me down, it will help you be raised back up. Your choice. I am stuck.
Stuck. I was told the pastors at the church would help me through this. They left me and let me deal with all of this on my own very quickly after I made a decision to leave. I was told by countless friends that they would stand by me through this. They all walked away.
If I do not talk to my children again, then they can not be hurt by my choices. Thier win, it is what I need to do. I can not be responsible for yet more pain that my choices have caused them. It is not fair. It is not fair that they have a mother who has screwed up thier lives by her choices in her own. I have no parents. I have no foundation of my life. I am accountable to no one. No one wants me. The ex dropped me like I was nothing. He never loved me, he used me. When he got all he could from me, he walked away. It was years ago, if I am honest. Years ago. Again, I do not think he ever loved me. You do not just walk away like he did if you loved someone as much as he said he loved me.
That is not love. So I walk the only thing that loves me, my dog. I sit at the park and nice older men will talk to me, just to be nice. Nice. What is that word? Nice is all I have ever been to anyone. Nice, take advantage of me. That is where it has led me. It all does not matter anymore as I do not matter. I am rent and a way to feel better about herself to my room mate. I am money to my daughter. I am nothing to my sons. This is what my life is about. Love hard, be rejected by all. This is what life is about. Try and just keep failing. This is what it has come to.
No one cares, its clear. No one cares. Just get it in your mind. You are to work and pay your bills. That is all there is to life. Work and pay your bills. Put up the walls, do not let anyone in as they will just hurt you. Do what you know you need to do. Fake it, no one cares anyways. Pretend everything is okay when it is really not. Like you want to die, but you don’t want your dog to be alone. Reality is that he would find a great home with a great family if you die. They would love him and treat him the way that he needs to be treated. Room mate would do that, she would take him to the pound to get rid of him. This is my life.
Quiet Intensity 