It could be the years of pent of anger or it could just be that I've reached the limit of patience that I have for.. well, everything... but I'm cranky as fuck.
I literally have NO fucks to give about almost anyone's feelings.
L wanted to text me how hungry he was after he's been in the house all day. Not to mention that I did some grocery shopping about 2 days ago and there's shit in the house he could've made. He's just lazy.
Don't fucking complain to me. Because you've been stealing money from the food stamps and in addition to that you had the nerve to ask me for more money (that I could barely spare).
And now you want to complain there's no food? Or you don't have metro card fare?
Like dude??? Did you not think of that when you were frivolously spending on your bad ass habits?
FUCK YOU, SUFFER.
Like, if I have to suffer because of your bad habits, my dude your ass is going to suffer too.
My mom wants to waste my damn time 2017 and expect me to nod my head in agreement and keep it pushing. NO.
I'm leaving, fuckyou, figure it out without me because I'm done.
My time is short in this life. I could die tomorrow. I'm only concerned about my children. They don't deserve to have to deal with people's bullshit. Seriously.
I've had it up to Timbuktu. If I had it my way I'd collect my shit and bounce. Alas, life is not set up that way. So I'm stuck here between a rock and a hard place. With an asshole of a man who can't fend for himself is someone paid him to.
I'm so ready to be done and over with all of this.. Honestly. Truly.
I'm tired of being nice. It's been my downfall this far.
If I'd been strict from the start then he would've gotten the idea that wasting 5 years of my life... wouldn't turn out in his favor. \
Because you're an adult and you can make conscious decisions without having to rely on me being your mother. Seriously.
Have the nerve to say if it was me that I'd be upset.... See the thing is that's never been me. I always do what I have to do, fend for myself if I have to.
I spent two days at work hungry, all day. Because I gave him the power to be able to feed himself at his leisure (even though he was in the house all day and I was not). I'm not doing that anymore. He had time to say, you know what. Let me stock up on things so that I can make sure no matter what I'll have something to eat or fall back on when the time comes. But NOOOOOO he needs me to think like that. Needs me to make the judgment call.
I'm tired of raising a grown ass man. Honestly. Truly.
How many times do I have to write about being tired of something. How many times do I have to express my unhappiness. Every time I turn around it's something else. It's something new. Nothing ever let's up for me. At least that's what it feels like, because this ENTIRE BLOG is nothing but lamentations. Like WTF?
The shit only covers like 6 years of my life.. how the fuck is there maybe 1% of joy and contentment? It's probably less than that if I quantify it properly, but you get the point.
That's why I don't write as much. Because it stopped making sense. It stopped feeling therapeutic and morphed into a death sentence by stress. Reading over anything doesn't make me feel any better. And it's not as if I'm talking to anyone. I don't get any advice or feedback. It just stays here on the screen for me to cry over later. That's some fucked up shit.
I'm so angry right now. It makes me exhausted.
Maybe I'm depressed... Maybe it's the pregnancy (that I have yet to talk about on here, it's bambino #2.. don't ask, it's series on it's own)...
Maybe it's just that I'm tired of being fucking tired.. and complacent. I have no patience.