Am I the Wood, Or the Screw?

Ever paid close attention to a screw biting through wood?

The screwdriver turns it by the head, until the teeth grab, forcing a hole deep into the wood's grainy interior.

It is actually a very violent process for both the wood and the screw. 

Yet somehow, there is a deep satisfaction found within conquering the mighty tree with a teeny piece of steel.

I'm not really sure which of these parties I relate to the most. Perhaps in turns, I experience both sensations of late.

I am highly unsettled. 

Highly agitated. 

Highly volatile.

...and yet, all I feel is low.

It's that damned time of the year again. 

"The Low"

I hate this. 

I can't control my own reactions. 

Can't control my own moods. 

I'm feeling like a raw nerve, sticking out into the cruel world... begging for someone to inflict some pain. 

The worst part is that there is an energy that comes off me that most people pick up on - no matter how hard I work to hide the repugnance I feel for humanity as a whole. People know there is something seriously off with me.

I went into the Accountant's office this morning to pick up cheques that I had asked to be cut, that weren't ready. I will tell you, although my words were nice and I pasted a smile on my face... they damned well knew I was less than pleased that my stuff was not ready. I waited there for over 15 minutes while they skittered around trying to imagine where my documents were...

Everything is off...
My health is off...
My job is off...
My kids are off...
My marriage is off...

I do not know what to do. I see this pattern with my spouse emerge again and again. Every time I turn a corner with my own mental health, my husband acts out. He starts digging in my shit, he starts with passive aggressive bullshittery where our roles are concerned.

I don't know what to do. Don't know if I am somehow causing this situation. Don't know if I can confidently take an offensive approach to solving the problem. Don't know if there isn't a drastic action required for both of us to really come to terms with where we are going - or not going, together. Sadly, I also don't know for sure if I am just being over dramatic and making mountains out of mole hills, or if my inability to act... open my face-mouth and speak my unhappy words, is adding to the stagnancy of my world at present.

To review, we have been through Hell in the past seven or eight years. I flipped my bicky in a fairly big way. There were times when I was not leaving the house to work, and to that end, my spouse became very complacent about household chores and responsibilities. That's fine - I really pretty much set it up that way... but I've gotten my head screwed on straight again - even though I still struggle with the peaks and valleys of my condition. I'm working. It isn't full time, but the income isn't very much less than when I did mortgages for a living. I'm trying...

But here's the thing - I feel like the only one.

My kids are great kids, but they are teenaged girls. There is a wasp's nest of crazy that follows me around my house from the time I get home, until the time I shut my light off, and shoo whichever one is still clinging to me off to bed... and often from there, I get to listen to the other one through the wall talking about things I do not want to know.

All feedings, washings, cleanings, appointments, purchases and assignments are mine alone. It feels as though I am responsible for everybody and I have to be honest when I say, I don't want 100% of the responsibility... especially when I am not getting support anywhere else.

I want to have some fun.
I want to feel special.
I want to feel wanted and loved.
I want a partner that will do these things for me... I'm not talking about housework. I want a partner that can take care of me! 

I do not currently feel 'taken care of'.

About a week and a half ago, I announced that I wanted a birthday party this year. Sad, I know... I have to plan and execute my own birthday party, but I guess I do. I know that my husband thinks he is on top of it... but I also know that he is not. Why? Because he is too busy with work... and he needs to work. We need the fat cheddar to keep on keeping on.

Maybe this is my issue. I keep getting my nose rubbed in his job. He's so busy and gone so much, all because the needs of the household are so great... which has a tendency to make it feel like my fault. Then I can't get mad because I no longer come first, as it is because of me and the needs I have created, that he has to work such unreasonable hours.

I'm tired.
Right in my heart.
I want change.
Now.
...and I just don't know what I am supposed to do next.

"We're not who we used to be, we don't see what we used to see... we're just two ghosts swimming in a glass, half empty... trying to remember how it feels to have a heartbeat."