Sometimes

Sometimes it's hard not to get tired.  Not to simply wish that things could be easier sometimes.  That I could disappear for a few moments and just be.  Just breathe.  Just let out exactly what I am and how I feel.  Sometimes.  But, I am trying to learn how to grow up.  How to do the right thing.  Though, on here you would hardly know it. 
Sometimes, though, it seeps into my regular life.  My safe places in life.  And I have no recourse.  I can't explain.  I do not allow myself to explain.  Feel like it's just excuses. 
Sometimes I wish that I felt like it was ok to cry when I actually feel like crying.  Like it was ok to say how miserable I feel about going home.  How overwhelming it is.  How tense.  How cold.  How I can just barely put one foot in front of another.  But I haven't figured out how to make that better.  So, I keep just trying to face it as it is.  To really look at how it is.  Frankly, it was easier to coat it with other stuff. 
Sometimes I feel invisible.  I figure that I've done it to myself.  Gotten good at blending in.  At not being seen nor asked questions.  Not to deceive, but to survive.  To hold it all together.  To somehow make it work. 
Sometimes I wonder why being miserable wasn't enough to make me stop.  Sometimes I remember that it's because I've made a commitment.  That I'm a christian and need to make it work.  That I will slap in the face all I know and love if I fail.
Sometimes I get tired of being the one that is supposed to make it all work.  To make things alright.  But I keep on doing it. 
I think it will be better when my birthday is over.  Well, at least I won't be dreading that part. 
My heart is beating rapidly as I try to write wondering if he's coming in.  My brain hurts.  Literally.  My stomach has been in knots all day.  I'm a mess.  I just want to have fun.  Want to relax.  Want to sleep in a bed.  Without feeling like I'll be harmed.  Want to go to work when I need to....not early.  And tomorrow I will probably have to drive him again.  And it makes me physically traumatized.  Horribly. 
Sometimes I wish that I could just have what I need sometimes.  Without a fight.  Or an argument.  Or having to prove anything.  Or a competition. 
I like laughing.  Playing.  Hoping.  Dreaming.  Traveling.  Being home.  Reading.  Learning.  Creating.  I like living.  It's a gift.  A blessing.  I know that I have been created for a purpose.  I know.  Sometimes.  I just have to try to remember who I am.  I have to somehow give myself permission to be that person.  And it's hard.  Because all of the blame will fall on me.  And sometimes, I get tired of being the bad guy.  The bad person.  The one who is mean.  I get tired of people seeing me as all of those things.  It didn't used to be that way.  I want that back.  More than sometimes.