Lately, I have lacked patience in all capacities, with others, myself, and dare I say it: God. My faith is waning, I have no hope, and where is the love? I have been operating on such a short fuse. Work has been a trial. These youth here are driving me stark, raving mad! I have no patience. I have no desire to even be nice. I can’t even be nice to my own mother. Maybe it’s me? When did I become so bitter? Why am I so bitter? Is it because I can’t see what is next in my life? I’m so close to so many great things happening… I will be graduating soon. I will have a year’s experience and can work anywhere. I am saving money very well. I will pay off the Chrysler. We will very likely move to Florida(?) this summer(?) Wonder how much that will cost…
In any case… I think my job is stressing me out. I really do not like these kids that we have here now. This new group is full of attention seeking, self-harming, bratty nuisances. If I get called a “bitch” one more time… *woosah* I don’t think a day has passed where I have not been called a “bitch.” Who knew being called a “bitch” would be a trigger for me. Maybe it’s the tone of voice. Whatever it is, everytime that stupid girl calls me a “bitch” I want to punch her dead in her mouth, knock her daggum teeth out. That’s bad, huh? At least I’m self-aware. Had another kid tell me I’m on their list of people to “get rid of.” Oh yeah? Hah! I get it, these kids have issues. I’m beginning to lack sympathy. Lack empathy. Lack patience. Not beginning to, I totally lack sympathy, empathy, and patience. I’m in the wrong field.
I have no outlet. I have my KDramas. However, I am basically a recluse with those. I need to physically exert myself. I need to exercise, or run, or hike, or something. Otherwise… I’m going to become an angry person.
After this last divorce, it is difficult for me to not become a recluse. I feel as though I want to crawl into my shell and never again face the world. Although, I know that I do not want to spend the rest of my days alone, I know that I will. I do not believe that there is anyone out there for me. I do not believe that I can be loved. Maybe that’s the true heart of the matter. I was deeply wounded for four years – the entire time I knew him was nothing but pain to my heart. Now, as I try to recover, I am afraid. Two times have I loved. Two times was my heart torn apart. I can’t bear it. I don’t think there is anyone out there that will ever truly love me. Maybe I don’t deserve it.
I lack the patience for my own mother, to be honest. Maybe it is because of her abuse when I was young. Maybe because of what she did to my daughter when she was four. Maybe because she is a liar. Maybe because she never accepts responsibility for her actions. I have had enough. I can’t even stand to speak to her. I have not cut her all of the way off. I don’t know why I haven’t. Maybe it’s to give me time to figure out a way to nicely say “stop lying.” But, I can’t figure that out yet.
*Sigh* Lord, give me patience!