The Edge of the Limit
Some days I want the world to stop. I want my world to change. I want a different life. I get tired of it all.
I get sick of taking care of someone else. I get sick of being responsible for for everything that needs to be done. I want it all to stop. I want to be normal.
I don't need a vacation. I don't need a break. I don't need a hug or a pat on the back. I need for it to end.
I don't need to leave my husband or shun him or think of him as a burden. I need for him to be normal. I need for us to have a normal marriage and life...just a normal day. I need for our lives to stop being controlled by a screwed up twist of fate that happened twenty-five years ago. I don't need it for my sake. I need it for his sake too. He's tired too. I know he wishes every moment to have one day like everyone else. One hour.
And I'm not going to get it. He's not going to get it. Not any of it. We are never going to be normal. We are never going to live spur-of-the-moment. We are never going to take weekend trips together or chase each other around the house or have a meal where one of us isn't shoveling food into the mouth of the other. I am never going to be free of it and neither is he. And we accept it. We understand it. But some days we just don't like it.
So there are days when I need to be frustrated. Days when I reach my saturation point where I can't take in any more. And I need to have the freedom to express that frustration and dissatisfaction. Do it without remorse. There are moments where I could scream and I want to punch the walls and tear my clothes and cut off all my hair as if within the span of a moment it would all grow back and bind together as though I lived in a cartoon world. That's how close to the edge I get.
I won't do it but I want the freedom to do it. I want that much control over the minutes that pass in my life.