Debbie Downer

Let's see if I can make it through this post without breaking down. The fact that I can't even type on my old trusty Acer computer makes me want to scream, because slowly but surely the Mac is dragging me in..but I still don't understand it half the time. Is there a class I can take for "The iMac for dummies". Anyways, Wil is currently watching a movie on the Mac while Audrey is doing this half ass tummy time thing, and of course my mother in law is in her face saying "Who's a pretty girl?"

....Can you tell I'm highly annoyed? At life, by the way. I feel like I'm going in a never ending cycle of "what can go wrong next?".


This typing thing is really pissing me off...but even if Wil wasn't watching a movie I doubt I'd blog on the Mac. I feel like he's constantly over my shoulder reading everything I do or every move I make. Not on purpose, he's just curious, like I do to him, but I can't stand having someone over my shoulder. Gah.

This is not how I pictured my life. I hate my body. I lie to myself and pretend to love it so I feel better about myself, but theres no use. None. I hate my love handles, underarm fat, thighs, and my stretch marks on my wide ass. I have a gym membership, but I never have any damn time to go.

I want my own house. When I go on walks in the evenings, I long to have my own house. I want to use all of the Pinterest ideas I find. I don't want to feel like I'm living day by day wishing everything around me would just change. It's sad.

It's sad that my daughter can't take a nap without being interupted by doors slamming, dogs barking, or people talking loudly because no one gives a damn about how I feel, or how she feels I guess.

Am I just rambling? I think so, but I'm going to countiue.

I am sick of trying to make everyone happy around me, but getting nothing in return. Isn't it sad that I hear my daughters cry when she's not even crying? I can't even take a shower without thinking that she's crying, even if shes not. Something is wrong here. Very wrong.

No one gives a shit about my feelings, or how I want things. No one ever asks my opinion, they just assume. They never ask "What do you think, Candice?" because obivously it doesn't matter to them.


While on our evening walk, while I was longing at having my own house, where my daughter could lay on the floor on blankets without having to worry about dogs trampling her, my husband was five feet behind me texting his friend. We can't even have a evening walk without being interupted by something, and even if we did, we'd probably be arguing. Arguing over the reason why I choose to pick Audrey up when she's screaming because I honestly don't believe in the "cry it out" trick...or the fact that he just put her swaddle blanket on the god damn dirty floor that I have complained about needing vacummed (which he hasn't brought down the vaccum for me), that she was supposed to use tonight in bed...but of course it's covered in dog hair now...which I have to clean, and which I'll have to do all the laundry, and wash bottles, and feed audrey, all in a days time because it HAS to be done.


This is why I never blog. My life is crumbling around me. I keep it all bottled up because I have no friends. Literally zero friends, and everything is going wrong. Ugh.