Summer Blows

I’m having a difficult time lately.  Somehow I keep forgetting that I am disabled.  I’m still new to this.  It’s only been two years.  This is my second summer like this; actually it’s my third but I don’t count the first summer because I was so pregnant and in recovery from the stroke and surgery.  I was still “taking it easy.”

I am struggling still with so many aspects of my stroke and the shock of it all and this damn hemiparesis.  I fucking hate it.  I hate being like this.  I hate being, dear God, 30 (will be official this coming week) and feeling so trapped inside my own body.  I am so limited and it is driving me insane.

Do you know what makes it hard about it being summer already?  Legs. Fucking legs. They are everywhere! Commercials, ads, music videos, parking lots.  I feel like everyone is rubbing their legs in my face; especially the females.  All long and tan and I can’t even think of wearing shorts outside of my house with my stupid bulky AFO and my geriatric shoes all over-sized and comfy.  I just look silly.  It’s so depressing.

My kids are the ones that suffer and will suffer the most.  I just can’t locate my courage, I can’t find the strength to smother my anxiety long enough to make it to the car.  They will never see a park if it’s left up to me.  They’ll never see a beach or a carnival or fair.  We could never afford the gas to get those places or the tickets to enter anyway.

I had to deactivate my Facebook again.  That’s the third time this year.  I become so overwhelmed with  jealousy at the sight of people’s posts and pictures.  I’m at an age where my former classmates are officially entering adulthood.  People are posting pictures of their new houses, new rooms they just remodeled, their big yards loaded with friends at the BBQ pit or in the pool or sitting around the fire pit and here I am…sad pathetic little me sitting in my living room staring at the pictures knowing I will never have any of that.  Pictures of people swimming and on water slides and dancing and that will never be me again.  I can’t even leave my house because I am so…..just….pathetic.  I hate myself.  What kind of adult is this?  I have no job; I live off of every stupid program the stupid GOP wants to cut except for TANF.  We cut corners where we can to avoid that.  I just hope that Kasper will get a job at the end of summer like planned and I can handle Boonshka on my own so we can get out of housing, get off SNAPS and not have to worry about people taking away everything we have.

You hear or read these stories about people overcoming fear, working through adversity, championing wins of every challenge they were forced to face without a choice to turn away. How do they do it?  I can’t do it.  I was doing arm exercises every day, trying to strengthen my shoulder.  I stopped.  There was no reason.  It’s not even an inconvenience.  It fits in quite nicely with my daily routine.  And yet….I still stopped.  What is wrong with me?  I want what is best for my kids; I want to give them the better half of my memories and yet I make no moves to give it to them.  They will grow to hate me and they will never understand and instead of taking action, I sit here and blog about it to no one instead of taking action.  How did I become so Goddamned idle?

I wasn’t that bad of a person before, was I?  Maybe I was.  Maybe my sister is right.  I deserved this.  I deserved all of this.  But my kids?  Sometimes I wish my husband hadn’t stopped me from cutting my wrists.  Sometimes I can’t help but feel that my kids would have been so much better off without me.  Skas is always bored.  We never go anywhere.  We can’t afford to and it’s all my fault.  Everything is my fault.  This whole mess is all me.  I just wanted a better life.  Was that really a bad thing?

Was that so bad a desire that God had to literally strike me down and cripple me for life?  Why does he do things like this to people?  My kids don’t deserve this; they don’t need this as a parent.  They are just kids.  They need more sustenance and I am not doing anything positive in the way of providing that.  Pretty sure I’ve already fucked them up just by being here.  Maybe if the GOP really guts and cuts everything we survive with, Kasper will have no choice but to drop me to save our kids and I can die alone in misery like I am meant to.

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