In a world of hate, where is the light?

The past few months have been really hard. I’ve had money stress, boyfriend stress, immediate family stress and extended family stress. I’ve had job stress, health stress, deadline stress. Every kind of stress imaginable has gone through me. The biggest are relating to the first 4 four mentioned.

Money stress: I haven’t been able to make ends meet for several months, mostly due to poor spending habits and higher bills than in previous months. It has made the rest of my struggles and stresses bigger and badder.

Boyfriend stress: Henry and I don’t have sex. We barely kiss, touch, or anything even remotely intimate. This has gone on for several months. I began to seek solace elsewhere, which I knew was unfair to him. I felt like he constantly made himself unavailable. We had a bit of a power struggle. I wanted to be home in bed by 11 but he never wanted to get together during the week before 9. Because I wanted to see him badly, I blew off my bedtime many nights. Any time I was able to coax him out before 9, I felt as if he didn’t really want to be there. It hurt my feelings and made me feel very undesirable. I continued to make excuses for him, like his chemo killed his sex drive, or maybe he just wasn’t feeling well when I would see him. But with each excuse I gave myself on his behalf, the more I resented him, and the more I hated myself.

Immediate family stress: I live with my parents so anything that happens, they’re pretty much aware of. My dad has been unbearable lately. In February or March, my dad was snooping on my Facebook page through my mom’s Facebook. He saw a photo of Henry and I. He told me that he didn’t like the idea of me seeing a black man. He also told me he wanted me to break up with Henry but I could continue to be friends with him. So, when he told me this, I was devastated. I was ashamed of my family and I wanted to just die, to end it all because that would be better than living without Henry. So, I asked Henry if we could take a small break so I could sort things out. He was understandably upset, with the situation and with me. So, he gave me space. Eventually we talked and he admitted how much that had hurt him and how he was never quite sure where we stood. So, then and there I asked him to be mine again. He agreed and we have been moving on ever since. My family’s betrayal hurt more than I’m willing to admit. I hated them with every fiber of my being. I was told that if I were to live with a black man, I’d be written out of my dad’s will. My reaction was essentially “So what?” although I didn’t verbalize that. I was told that if I married or had children with a black man, I would be disowned. My dad was holding my family hostage from me. And I hated him. And I still hate him, although I can tolerate him again. He would check up on me on Facebook through my mom’s page, so I deleted my mom as a friend on FB. I told them in May that I was thinking of starting to save for a down-payment for a house. I had told them previously that I wanted to move out in November. While I’d prefer to be out sooner, I am stuck here unless I can find a roommate. It is a tense situation but it’s what I have to deal with.

Extended family stress: My maternal grandma is great. She is the light of my life. I do things for her when I can from 900 miles away. My maternal grandpa just celebrated his 11th death day on June 23. My paternal grandma is ok. She is a private person but she will talk to me for a while on the phone about all that’s going on there with my cousins, aunts, and uncles. I like her quite a bit, although not as much as my other grandma. My paternal grandpa has always been special to me. Shortly after my dad’s threats, my dad told me that someone had shown my grandpa the photo of Henry and I. He also said that my grandpa was disgusted with me. Cool. That stung like a slap to the face. A few days later, my dad asked me to go with him to Missouri to check on the house and tenets. I agreed and we took my car. My grandpa was there when we got there. We did what we had to do and then went to lunch, the three of us. After we were finished, we went over to my dad’s cousins’ house for a bit. My grandpa decided he was going home so I told my dd “what’s the point of staying if grandpa’s not going to be here?” So we turned around and went home. We were gone less than 36 hours. Once we were on the road my  dad makes it a point of saying “You know your grandpa is only going home because you’re here. He can barely stand to be in the same room as you. He won’t say anything because he doesn’t want to hut your feelings but that’s the truth.” Since then, I’ve resented everyone. My parents, paternal grandparents, and paternal extended family. I don’t want to see them. It hurts because I don’t think I’ve ever been hated so much by so many people so close to me. And no matter what I never thought badly enough of my grandparents to forgo seeing them when I got the chance. But I do now.

All this has given me a lot to think about and a lot of hate in my life. I hate just about everything anymore, even myself. I ended things with Henry because I feel so guilty that every time I think of my (formerly) beloved grandparents, it makes me sick. When I think of myself, I hate what I see. And when I think of our relationship, I think off all the times I’ve been stood up and all the broken promises. And it hurts. I need to do better for myself and I can’t if I stay around all these negative people. Henry is great on his own. He’s very supportive and I love that about him. But support won’t fill the void I feel lately, the need to feel desired. Now that it’s all out there and hundreds of tears have been shed, I think it’s time for bed and some Clash of Clans!

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