So here I sit at the market, my friend Chris came out here one day, and he was in the mindset before the day was even half over and throw up his arms and call it quits and that he’d never do it again, I get this.for as I sit here I watch people buy popcorn and hats and rings lots of rings, and I get more and more depressed it is artwork because art is subjective. And since art speaks to the soul not always the pocketbook, so it’s easy to see how frustration and depression go hand in hand. Making artists of any form just want to quit and stop, about the way I feel today. Right now I just want to throw everything on the ground and say the hell with it, and quit, just quit. Yet that would be my life, a quitter constantly sabotaging my life. Never getting ahead no matter how hard I’ve worked, and here I am sitting in the cold, sciatic hurting, trying to smile and stay positive it’s going to be a good day, not be positive that this day is going to be one giant failure, like it feels right now. The best part of this is of I give up on this I not only hurry myself but 48 other people, even though Charles and I are fronting this booth at market, no one else and we are losing money, yet I keep telling myself you have the SPEND MONEY to make money, so how much damn money do you have to spend before you see a return. I am tired of ruining my life an through the self damaging sabotage that I was raised in and trained to do, so I would be constantly dependent on my father, and his abuse. To the point my entire life has been a war zone filled with constant arguments and fearfully defending myself, even when it’s not necessary. I’ve been in counseling now going on 5 years now, 3 of that in DBT group therapy, and I don’t remember how many EMDR sessions I had. You would think by now I would have learned to STOP this behaviour, yet I haven’t. It’s depressive days like today, which I feel like I have way too many for our sanity, meaning of I don’t change my behaviour, I’m going to drive my husband away. Or myself to a watery grave so I don’t hurt him or anyone else anymore. Which I know doesn’t help anyone, yet the thoughts are still there and merely add to the depression, my double edged sword. To live without fear of loving myself I never learned this, to accept help, allow others to be in charge, all of these things go against everything I was taught. So being a learned control freak has been nothing but one giant sabotage button, there’s never been an easy button in my life, only the giant fuck off, let’s let your fuck up your life button kick in to overtime.
I love my Charles, however I will end up driving him away, if I don’t get these changes made for us, for me, when will I learn.
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