Back when I had Voldemort – and by “had,” i mean, “expelled him from my body,” people would ask about his birth, and I would say how fast it was, and how intense, and how disappointed I was that Brandus hadn’t gotten to be there.
And, I’m not sure if it’s because there is a large military community in Alaska, or what, but almost universally, if I said that, they would come back almost immediately with, “At least he isn’t in Iraq!”
Because, you know, obviously, I was being a selfish bitch to express the want to have my husband by my side while being in labor – when I was overwhelmed and hurting and alone.
I always had to resist the urge to punch the people who said that in the face.
Because what if he had been in Iraq, and I had said how disappointed I was that he hadn’t been there – what would they have said then? “At least he isn’t dead!” “At least he hasn’t abandoned you!” “At least he doesn’t hit you!”
I mean, just..what? Why CAN’T I be sad about something I wanted not happening?
And why can’t I be sad that I’m at a new school, in a new classroom, with a whole new set of expectations and stresses and stupidity?
Why do I have to hear, “At least you have a job!” “Just be happy you’re employed!” Why? I want to punch these people in the face, too. If it was someone who was unemployed saying it, at least they have an excuse to say it – bitterly, even. But every single person who says it to me is EMPLOYED. Usually in a better paying job then mine.
At least I have a job! At least I’m not on the streets! At least I’m not on meds to control the anxiety I feel about dealing with the principal and the expectations and the utter shit that goes with being in an intensive needs classroom!
…no, wait. Never mind about that last one. It’s too late. My one goal this year was to make it to January without anti depressants. I forgot to make a goal about anxiety.
At least Im on anti anxiety meds! At least I’m not suicidal!