There's a monster over me.

In my current state of mind, i don't believe i should be writing anything. Likely, i should be finding opportunities to be a member of a demolition crew. You know, one of those who use sledgehammers to tear down walls... Yea, that's what i should be doing.

Except. I'm not.

Here i sit. Writing pointless words i don't have the courage to speak out loud. Pretending i'm a happy, peaceful person has it's toll and that facade has come to collect it's dues. I almost feel as if my sanity is slipping away from me and i'm helpless to stop any of it.

An addiction. It's JUST an addiction. I should be able to decide to merely shut if off. That's what everyone expects. Even those who have already been able to shed the same addiction. No fuss. Like a switch. Off and i'll somehow be free.

I need to quit smoking. My husband's budget for this year dictates i need to. No pressure. My health dictates i need to, even if it's already too late. No pressure. My family doesn't think i'm capable. No pressure. My children expected instant results. No pressure. My in-laws feel the need to remind me "gently" how badly my smoking impacts our household budget. No pressure. Ad nauseum. No pressure.

Yea. Right.

What no one knows is my smoking is holding it all back. All that lies behind the mask of happy peacefulness. The grief i've never expressed, the words i've held back to not hurt when the painful truth should've surfaced, the lies i told to survive, the angers, the frustrations, the self-loathing, the self-doubt, the worthlessness i was taught to feel, the... well, everything no one has ever seen.

I'm afraid i will be a different person and those few who love me will cease to care because they won't know who i am anymore. I realize this is unlikely and love doesn't just take a nosedive like that, but i can't help the fear. It's there and it grabs at my insides like a snake squeezing the life from it's prey.

The less i smoke the more frightened i feel.

Every time i try to cold turkey, all it takes is one bout of anxiety and, poof, i've failed again. Failed everyone. Even as i satisfy myself.

Maybe my mother is right. Maybe i've never been "right in the head" enough to be okay and smoking hides those things... Maybe she's wrong... I don't know. I'm terribly afraid though. Regardless.

All i know is i need to quit. And it hurts. Can i be stronger than this pain? I don't know.

I feel adrift and lost.

The highest price.

I keep thinking i may be going completely crazy.  People are such idiots.  Seriously.

I can't imagine what people believe they are going to achive by lying to others.  Especially when it includes lying to themselves.  Really?!  What a bunch of numbskulls.  Blah.

I'm good.  Truly.  I abhor ignorant stupid people.  Kind of like a pet peeve.  I'd much rather they didn't waste my time and the oxygen around us by opening their mouthes.  Not kidding.

Onward.

I'm trying to be upbeat.  Is it working?  Didn't think so.

Well, that was fun while it lasted.  I'm over it now.

You know, it's really too bad.  I can be such an upbeat person face to face.  Oh, wait.  That would be because no one wants to hear what is bothering me.  Ever.  So i have to keep it to myself and, hopefully, dump it here.

It's a plan, if i do say so myself.

So, the latest thing to be bugging me?  Still the same.  It always lasts for a while after i see her again.  Friends.  Just friends.  She always wants to be friends with her exes.  I wonder if she realizes that i am still friends with her because it's better than not having her in my life at all?  Probably not.

Come to think of it, she never did say she didn't notice that.  Hmm...

It's funny.

We couldn't be together the way she wanted because i can't divorce my husband.  If i do and something happens to me, being single would leave my kids open to being taken by my biological family.  Let's just say it would not be a good thing.  Not in the least.

So, i said i couldn't.  I had long since realized my kids had a right to keep me in their life the way they always have had me.  After all, i didn't come out until after i had them and they did nothing wrong, duh.  My first priority and responsibility is to them.  No one, not ever does anyone come before them.  Not even myself.

Unfortunately, no one else agreed with that except my husband.  Granted, he simply wanted to keep me in his life and was afraid i would just disappear if we split.  It's a justifiable fear considering all the other women in my family had done the same thing to the fathers of their kids.  I was the only one to get married and have all my kids with one man only.  Yea, my biological family has some very undesirable legacies.

I finally felt okay to be me.  I finally let myself be me.  Trouble with that is all the other people our lives are connected with.  Either by choice, chance, or happenstance.  So, four years ago i came out.  It felt good.  Still does.  For all the drama, i don't regret it.

Since i was finally being honest about myself, i found it easier to be honest with others and to expect honesty in return.

The problem is things happened and people formed opinions.  They created ideas and decided judgements.  Oh my...  It never ends.

I just...

Oy.

My words escape me.