Today, I’ve wanted to run away again. Instead, I’ve distracted myself as much as humanly possible from my feelings and thoughts. I watched a movie, read in the bathroom and knitted on my sock at every possible opportunity. I did go out for a bit earlier, looking for a job. I cried in between one place and the next, as I felt (warning: teen angst years relived) that all of this was totally fucking unfair. This is not how I wanted to return to the workforce. I have a college degree! I shouldn’t be waiting tables or pushing a mop, dammit.

Alas, I will do what I must, I s’pose. Growing up and all that jazz.

Buddha not feeling well has been a bit of a mixed blessing. I have swung from one extreme to the next on the inside – wanting to wallow around in self-pity and wanting to become wholly distracted (thereby escaping) from all the shit. When the meds wear off, he’s whiny and clingy and inconsolable ‘cept at the boobie. When I’ve held him and rocked him, he calms for a few minutes and I’m consumed with thoughts of sympathy for my poor boy. But when he insists on lying down for milk, my mind wanders into misery and I wish I were anywhere else.

In any case, I don’t want to be here too long (’cause it’s hard not to think about all the things I don’t want to think about). I’m just testing out the new blog software Windows Live Writer. Earlier I read BlogBloke‘s recommendation for it in my Google Reader and thought it would be a good distraction to try something new. So far, I dig it. Hell, I dig all things BlogBloke (If you haven’t yet, you should check out his blog).

Since I’m here, I thought I’d share sock progress pictures. The first is from this morning before I started and the second is how much I’ve done today. Once I publish, I’m going back to work on it. Well, at least until I reach the heel. After that, I’ll be stuck and must wait until I can get to Sunergos again for help. Maybe I’ll finish one of my many other projects. Or make some leg warmers.

Buddha is sick. I vaguely recall him feeling a bit warm last night during the late-night nursing session. It was confirmed by vomit in the crib this morning. He was fine earlier, but he’s grown cranky as the day has continued. He’s extra whiny and clingy.

I’ve been plugging away at my mom’s site for at least 50 hours and she is going to pay me $100. She made a pointed remark that she just spend “quite a bit of money” on Joy for school uniforms and supplies. We’re talkin’ maybe $50. It’s like a slap in the face. That’s $2 an hour. Needless to say, I’m done working on the site, even if everything isn’t as I had planned.

I have no idea how we are going to pay our rent.

Two nights ago, Husband made a comment to me that hurt much more than I expected. He said he’d wondered what it would be like to have a skinny wife. I’ve suspected for some time now that he is unhappy about the weight I put on during my pregnancy with Buddha (of those 25 pounds, I’m still carrying 15). I’m not thrilled about it, either, but I know me – I know that the only way I will lose the weight is to exercise (as opposed to diet) and the only way I will stick to an exercise routine is with gym membership. I have stated this to him for at least 10 months. Not that it seems to matter, as we couldn’t afford gym membership now even had we gotten it heretofore.

I mean, I have never been skinny. I have never even desired to be skinny. Thin, perhaps, but skinny strikes me as unhealthy. I have struggled with my weight my entire life, but I don’t see a fat girl (or even a chubby one) when I look in the mirror. I see me – beautiful, if imperfect. I found a way to love myself as I am years ago and nothing said to me has ever swayed me from that – not Big Rob’s comments about me being a “big girl,” not Joy vocalizing her worries that I “weigh more than” X, etc.

In any case, I felt so… I’m not even sure what the right word here is. Like humiliated. Like ashamed. And strangely, surprised, even though I suspected his feelings. Something about hearing him say it out loud changed things for me. I’ve felt distant from him. I can feel the wall going up. Part of me doesn’t want to be mad at him because I know people cannot really help the way they feel. But why did he hafta say it? What good did he think it would do?

The hardest part about that is while everything else has crumbled and fallen around me (and us), I’ve felt safe and secure in our relationship. Now?

I feel so fucking alone. And helpless.