This is just how we live. But why do I feel so deeply about it? No one else seems to be bothered. Sometimes I wish I had an emotional off switch. I know he wishes that too. Emotions cause weakness and right now I feel so pathetic.
Every week there is a riot.
And when it comes, the air suddenly changes. It becomes suffocating, toxic; a hazardous environment. Shouting, screaming, slamming doors, bags dragged down the stairs. And then they all gather together to discuss the issue behind closed doors. We’re unofficially cordoned off on the side, it’s a don’t see, don’t ask policy in operation. Yet it requires so much energy to engage in this acting, acting like we’re completely oblivious to the chaos that’s consuming the house.
I say “house” because that’s what it is, this place is not a home anymore.
He distracts himself with life admin and it works. I try to do the same by pouring myself into the kids…but not quite to the same effect. The stench of bitterness in the air is just too rancid for me to ignore. The tension in my gut just won’t ease.
Two days of draining our souls, wrecking our sleep and taking our peace, just to play happy families again at the end of it. At the drop of a hat. Right, everyone assume your roles again. Lights, camera, action! No explanation, not even an acknowledgment of anything ever happening. Wonderful. Superb.
Yet if you don’t instantly snap back into your assumed role, you’re considered the crazy one. Just keep a smile plastered on your face at all times, speak little and keep the peace. Keep the status quo intact. If only the same rules applied to everyone, hey.
How one’s head doesn’t burst in this place is a mystery to me.
So what is the solution you ask? Oh that’s the best part: there isn’t one. There’s no escape from this hell hole that we call reality. We’re locked-in. Well that is until they decide to call it quits and make an exit. At their mercy yet again.
And so we plod on. Walking on eggshells in constant anticipation of the next blow-up. And there will be a next one…there always is. This is just how we live.
Just A Small Town Girl... 
But what is the solution you ask? Oh that’s the best part: there isn’t one.
Having been in your shoes, there is always a solution. Either you find a solution or a solution is forced upon you (as it happened to me).
Do not take life too seriously. You will never get out of it alive
As your readers, we want what’s best for you and hope to see you writing posts like you used to. You have a wonderful blog and you’re an excellent writer. Please keep it going—start living for yourself.