Sheets

I kid myself. I convince myself that if I just don't acknowledge it, don't even glance at it, that somehow it will not exist. The pressure comes, the waves of stress start crashing and I dive under the covers, close my eyes and make it go away. Writing. Writing about the mundane of my life. Even this little task forces me to come out from under the covers. I like the alone better. I like to put on my "look at me i'm normal" face and go to work and come home. Life with Princess is an every day thing and I am thankful that I have that reality every day to keep me grounded. It's just so hard. I am tired of it all being so hard, taking so much effort. The holidays seem to bring more of everything. More demands on my time, more forcing myself to put on a happy face. I have taken to not answering the phone, heck I don't even listen to the voice mails. I'm tired of people. Alone is easier. I don't know how the rest of the world does it. Goes to work, meets friends, takes care of a house and kids. I can barely put on matching shoes some days. And yet I trudge on because there is no other choice. The hope that tomorrow will be a little bit easier. Couldn't it just be a little easier? I need the pieces to start fitting so I don't feel so completely seperate from the rest of the world. So little of my life is under control. I'm tired of "hanging in there" darn it all I just want a piece of my old life back. I'm not completely sure what part - maybe the part where I felt slightly human.