Tuesday, February 5, 2008


I am angry today and, here's a bit of information about me that I don't share openly, I am angry most of the time. This was pointed out to me when I was in treatment and I put great effort into accepting life on life's terms and not being angry. Although this process allows me quality moments when I am not stuck in the middle of rage, I eventually come back to rage.
I really feel that my higher power did some cruel things to me and I can't shake that feeling. I was born with (and I guess I still have) a very humiliating disease. This disease doesn't cause any serious health problems and I guess that should make me grateful. I do have very pronounced male characteristics and it frequently makes for awkward and embarassing life moments. I am bearded and flat chested and quite hairy and, on more than one occasion, I have been mistaken for a man. If I had lots of free time and disposable income, I could alleviate some of the problem. HP has also decided not to give me either of these things.
I also have crappy self esteem (surprise) that my husband exploits by letting me believe that every household duty is mine. And, I mean EVERY duty, laundry, cleaning, decorating, repairs, garbage, lawn mowing, snowshoveling, paying the bills. His lazy relatives do the same thing. Is it my fault for taking on more responsibility than I should? Partly. However, I certainly would have been able to negotiate for a more helpful and considerate husband if I didn't look like a circus side show freak. I'm lucky anyone was willing to overlook the hideousness and, that's not low self esteem, that's the truth.
When I was young, I was raised in a Christian home and I believed if I prayed with a strong enough faith I would be relieved of my burdens. My prayers fell on my higher power's deaf ears and, as puberty approached, the hair growth and freakishness got worse. I am experiencing this all over again as I pray for a second child. He did decide to give me a glimmer of happiness late in life with my husband and daughter, yet he absolutely refuses to give me second child. I am a cruel experiment where he dangles the hope of happiness and normalcy in front of me like a carrot just to see how high he can make me climb before I come crashing down.
The one really useful thing I learned in treatment is that I can tell HP how angry I am in loud, colorful terms. This is the only thing that gives me relief. So, today I'm here to say, "YOU'VE BEEN SCREWING ME OVER MY WHOLE LIFE. IF YOU CLAIM TO CARE ABOUT ME, LISTEN TO ME AND HELP ME! DURING THIS LIFETIME PLEASE!!!!"