maybe I really do need help

the internal rage that I feel this morning as my daughter screams at me "I am!" after I tell her for the 8th time, to come downstairs and get ready for school is so palpable, I had to resist the very real and almost tangible urge to fling all the dirty plastic bowls across the kitchen. I imagined myself screaming, and maybe it was internal but I hate my life, my kids piss me off and I want a fucking divorce so I can just get the hell out of here.

I feel like I’m even running out of sad faces, though the happy ones disappeared years ago. And the paradox of it all is while I’m writing this, I asked my daughter how far along she was in getting dressed and she told me and then said "my shoes are right here"> I said "You need to get a pair of socks because you can’t wear shoes without socks"> Then she started to laugh and that made me feel a little bit better.

If I left, I would miss their laughter and the ability to make them laugh but I wouldn’t miss everything else, the fighting, the lazy people, and the teenager said "I’ll be happy when I move out because I won’t have to take out recycle anymore.


One thought on “maybe I really do need help

  1. Wow what a lazy ass the teenager is. Fine, live in your own filth dude. As for the divorce: don’t blame you for wanting one. It’s OBVIOUS who the real caretaker of the little ones is. Might not be a bad idea to maybe look into a counselor or therapist for all the bottled up stuff. Sometimes we need emotional garbage disposals.
    And if you left, why couldn’t you have custody of the Littles? I mean, you are their caretaker even though the wife is the income (but the obviously doesn’t mean shit because she seems to like the idea of kids and animals but not really into, Oh, you know, BEING A PARENT…
    End rant


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