Dear God. You suck.

NOTE: I wrote the following post yesterday. I was feeling very down and blue and was terribly sorry for myself (why not? who else will feel sorry for me?), but then last night I watched Betty Ford as she said goodbye to her life's partner. She had such grace. She is so strong (this country has had many many first ladies with buckets of courage and grace...seems there must be a few posts in that). I know that I will come out of this mess on the other side. I know that I will and can carry on. But I am sure that there will be times when I feel like the world is stomping all over me. The following post reflects that.

- sheilah

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I am going to borrow Cecily’s letter from a few years ago: Dear God. You suck.

I hate this. I usually love the holidays but this year I didn’t do anything for Christmas. Before all this crap happened I had such nice plans. A nice quiet Thanksgiving at home with turkey and all the trimmings. Then maybe stay home for Christmas too. Or maybe go to Houston to be with B’s brother and family for a few days and then home again.

That’s what I want to do next year. I want to be at home with my little family. I know I don’t want to go to the in-laws (I just have trouble with MIL & FIL…I like B’s brothers & sister). The visit this year was as excruciating as I thought it would be. The first 4 days in Houston were fine and would have been plenty for me. It was the last 5 in Austin that almost made me take a jump off a nearby bridge. If it hadn’t been for the fact that MIL & FIL now have custody of MY SON and I need to be SUPERVISED to be with him, I would have left after a day. I stayed only to be with E.

He can sense that they do not like me (never have…MIL disliked me after seeing me ONCE for about 10 minutes…not a good relationship with her at all). He asked me on numerous occasions, “Do grandma and grandpa like you?” I didn’t want to lie and I didn't want to tell him the truth so I just told him how much they loved him.

It didn’t help that I have been so sad and emotional and weepy either. E asked me more than once, “Are you sad, mommy?” I hated to lie to him but I didn’t want to make him sad too. It’s bad enough that I cried in front of him. He was so sweet. He held me and stroked my hair and said, “Don’t cry, mommy.” He is such a good, kind boy.

God, will this nightmare ever end?