rivetkitty

I’m so sick.

I’m sick of being financially irresponsible and on the verge of bankruptcy. I’m sick of doing the kitchen and dishes. I’m sick of the elimination diet and having to ask what is in food all the time and check ingredients. I’m also sick of reacting to foods, and my kids reacting to foods. I’m sick of irritable bowels, irritable skin and irritable behaviour. I’m sick of washing and folding and sorting clothes, and I’m even sick of the children growing out of them so I need to get more. I’m sick of looking at the mould on the bathroom ceiling. I’m sick of not having a back garden that kids are safe to play in. I’m sick of living under the flight path. I’m sick of driving in peak hour and parking and idiots in large SUVs doing illegal stuff. I’m sick of grocery shopping. I’m sick of my son being phobic that there is a dinosaur living in the washing machine and dryer so I can’t do any loads of washing while he is in the house and awake. I’m sick of paperwork, paying bills, forgetting to do my BAS, and having a husband who was too afraid to file tax returns for years and years. I’m sick of not having gutters. I’m sick of trying to explain to men that our car is making odd noises, and yet none of them can hear them. I’m sick of my son refusing to eat anything that isn’t mashed potato. I’m sick of the baby crawling and climbing and teething. I’m sick of explaining how dinosaurs died and what makes gas and how ovens were invented and what makes wind and how far away the stars are. I’m sick of people telling me what my daughter “did” to others today. I’m sick of demands being made by uninterested self absorbed far off in the distance in laws. I’m sick of having a twisted pelvis and disk problems and vision problems and sleep problems and curly hair and bad dreams and size 8 feet. I’m sick of being a mother, I’m sick of people judging me because of my choices, I’m sick of hoarding things, I’m sick of dragging the baby out of the bathroom and him screaming at me. I’m sick of technology and phones and cd players that break down. I’m sick of crap telly and everything costing so much. I’m sick of living in the wrong catchment area for good schools, I’m sick of chuggers and charities and phone calls from India. I’m sick of the never ending ness of this life I lead right now. I’m sick of being asked to get drinks, change nappies, get snacks, open things, get things down, read things, clean things, hand feed people and not make loud noises. I am sick of negotiating, explaining and describing and repeating and requesting.

I just want to be still. And silent. And alone.

Mostly I’m just sick. Ill, tired and run down, out and over.

This entry was posted on Wednesday, May 14th, 2008 at 7:24 pm and is filed under Uncategorized. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed. You can leave a response, or trackback from your own site.