what matters and why

void of all feeling

3/5/04
You think i hate you, and i think i do too. But i don't know. i don't think that i have the capability to hate anyone. or love, for that matter. Sometimes i wonder if i really feel anything. if i've ever felt anything. i know i did so many things wrong. When you needed me, i was off in my own world. i never took the effort to build you up, to make you feel like you were important in my life. And you were. But not in the way you wanted. You wanted so much that i couldn't give you. i can't do it. i can't be who you want. i don't think that i do love you like i'm supposed to. i probably never did. But you have become my best friend and the most important person in my life. And now i'm losing you because you've found something better, someone who treats you the way you deserve. Over the years, i learned to share everything with you, and for me, that's quite an accomplishment. You know everything about me, the good and the bad. And there’s so much bad. Even you, the one person who has loved me since he ever knew he could love anyone, failed me. I never thought you would be capable of hurting me the way you have. Everything I have ever doubted about myself, you have confirmed to be true. Not only do you dislike my bad qualities, but you so much that you can’t even make any effort to come home.

I hate you for allowing me to open up to you like that, and now it means nothing. I hate you for not having any confidence in my abilities to accomplish anything. I don’t think I have one ounce of self esteem left in me. I feel like everything has been sucked out of me and there’s nothing left. I’m just here, and I don’t know why.

We’re driving somewhere today, and there is our son in the backseat, protesting yet another routine errand. He takes his shoes off and throws them at me from the backseat. We get to the store, and he crosses his arms and puts on his defiant smirk, and refuses to budge. It’s my fault, because I insist that errands must be run. I insist that shoes must be worn, and that children open doors rather than climb out the window and onto the roof of the car. He can’t stand that I would tell him that he is not allowed to sit in the front seat of the car, and that he is also not allowed to use foul language. According to him, I am the meanest person he’s ever met. He is so angry. He has lost all control of his life and I have lost all control of him. His security that once made him such a content child has been swept out from under him and he is completely lost. He will do anything he can to get my attention, even if it requires anger and frustration. He doesn’t know where all this anger is coming from, so he assumes it to be me, since I am here with him all the time. He pokes at me all day long, waiting for a reaction, waiting for me to crack under pressure. I try so hard to keep it together and I’m so sad and so angry I’ve lost my ability to be a decent mother. I am here, attempting to raise this child who hates me so much, and tells me every day, and who knows where you are and what you’re doing or why you’ve lost your desire to be a father to your son. It’s not enough. I can’t do this alone. You can’t sweep in every two weeks and think your discipline will have any effect on his behavior around me. Your absence and your lack of consideration make me hate you. You don’t see the emotional damage you are causing because you are not here.