Seems like I can’t do anything right lately. Things were going great for a while there. My girlfriend and her boys moved in with me and my kiddos. I proposed and she accepted. Happiness all around! I love having her come home to me every night. I love having all of our kiddos in the same house. We sleep in each other’s arms. We share our story now. It is as amazing as I had hoped and dreamed. Now if everything else could’ve just fallen into place too.
In April, I was let go from my job. I loved my job. I’m an IT Project Manager and that means I “people” for a living, translate between technical and non-technical people, negotiate, find common goals, and write reports about it. I’m good at it. Unfortunately, my company made some financial mistakes and too many of us are now looking for jobs because of it. So I’m unemployed.
I went to see my therapist which I have done consistently for almost a year now. Each week or every other week, I sit there and tell her what’s been bugging me and she helps me sort through it all. Definitely one of my heroes through the hell I’ve gone through with this divorce and the ongoing issues with my body following my accident two years ago. She’s been with me this entire time.
A few weeks ago, I had a joint session with my fiance’s therapist just ahead of moving in together and he asked me about my ADHD and how it is being treated. I looked at him like he was on drugs. Then my fiance nodded like, yeah. So I asked my therapist and she was like, yeah. And so I told some friends and they were like, yeah.
So now I’m like WHAT THE FUCK? Has no one thought to talk to me about it so that maybe I could be treated for it? So that I could quit being such a fuck up? So that maybe the stupid shit that I forget to do every day I don’t feel so horrible about because I’m actually biologically fucked up and forgetting simple shit is what my brain does to me? Maybe if I were treated for this, I could actually be able to not forget what the fuck I was doing and get something done for once!
All I know is that when I forget to do something small, I seem to gather up oh it’s ok she’s just stupid points. I can no longer just let myself be a fuck up. I need to fix this. I need to quit forgetting to do simple shit. I’m pissed off that I have no insurance right now – which means I can’t get on meds – which means I can’t fix my fucked up biology – yet.
We moved. I’m unemployed. We should be fully unpacked right? Wrong. Because I keep fucking that up too. Can’t seem to find time to unpack even a single box most days. I’ve been looking at the same pile of shit in the front room for a month now. I manage to get a few things done each day but it never seems to meet the standards of either my own expectations or my fiance’s. I see disappointment in her eyes when she gets home from work and the same pile of shit greets her. She says she’s not disappointed but she’s frustrated at a minimum. But the fridge is dispensing water now! I sold the giant ass TV and made a hole in the garage’s pile of shit. I slaughtered the rooster that was supposed to be a hen and kept waking us up at 5am and he’s ready to eat now! I’ve made delicious dinners every single night this week using scraps from our empty cupboards and fridge. I’ve kept the kitchen reasonably clean. I’ve managed not to kill the children while you’re at work. For the first few weeks, I drove two hours each day to pick up two of the kids after school because they were still attending where you used to live and it was during rush hour. Often taking them to sports or therapy afterward – and I never once complained because I didn’t mind at all. I liked being needed and feeling loved when they ran out of their classrooms and into my open arms.
But I fucked up my unemployment. I missed requesting four checks because I’m stupid. I didn’t hit “confirm” so they weren’t sent and there’s nothing I can do about it. Then I forgot to update my address when we moved so when the checks started flowing, they got sent back because government mail doesn’t get forwarded – and somehow everyone but me knew this. I forgot to do a five second task I promised I would do. I left a couple of bills on autopay because I’ve used it for the past 20 years without any problems but now it’s a problem and having those bills come out as planned sucked for my bank account. I forgot to deposit the one check I needed to on time. I forgot to email the old landlord about them stealing $550 from us. I forgot to tell my ex to pay me for the damn truck he got in the divorce because no the bank won’t just put the loan in his name. And on and on and on.
I’m tired of disappointing every single person, every single day. I’m tired of feeling like a failure. I’m tired of not feeling good enough for anyone. Can’t clean up the pile of shit in the living room or the front room. Can’t remember to start dinner early enough to eat at a reasonable hour. But hey, want that picture hung perfectly level – I can zone in on that for hours until it’s done right. Want me to start six projects and finish none of them? On it. That’s my specialty.
My therapist actually says it explains a lot about the way my parents treated me as a kid. Here I was this high energy, super excited kid who noticed everything and my parents just wanted me to sit down and shut up and be who they said I was supposed to be. Then I grew up to be something they believe to be disgusting and reprehensible. I’m divorced and gay. Obviously, they raised a piece of trash.
To top it all off – my kids are going to go spend 10 days with my bio family. The ones who are angry with me for some unsaid reason but the only thing that’s changed is that I’m not married to that man anymore and I am gay. That man who they have accepted with open arms. The one who committed perjury on the stand. The admitted, untreated alcoholic who verbally, emotionally, and socially abused me and flat denied all of it. The one who practically raped me when he found out I preferred women. Only, I can’t say he did because technically, I didn’t say no. But they are paying for his airfare – flying him down, welcoming him to their table, speaking kindly to him, allowing him to stay in their home, allowing him to teach my children to question my devotion to them… all while pretending he’s done nothing wrong that I am the person who is to blame for the marriage failing – when his drinking, lying, and daily endangerment of the kids was the sole and only reason our marriage failed. I figured out who I was only after the hetero-christian box I was forced into collapsed around me.
I was in town six months ago for New Years. I reached out. I offered to meet for coffee. My parents said no. MY PARENTS SAID NO TO COFFEE. Coffee. They can’t even be in my presence for half an hour with several weeks notice. But they can let him stay at their house with open arms and an open wallet. I shouldn’t be surprised. They didn’t call when I was almost killed in an accident. Why should I think they’d want me now?
He’s a prince and I’m a reject. How the fuck is this reality? I am an idiot for thinking I was ever loved by them. They chose when to give me praise and it was so infrequent that I spent every day trying to live up to their standards, just to get that ounce of praise I craved. I was never good enough then, I’m not good enough now, I’ll never be good enough.