Quiet insanity is the worst. When you have no idea if the person whose company you're keeping has completely lost their mind... or are just a fucking fool.
More often than not I end up settling on the latter.
I'm so fed up with people being mad at me because I don't live up to some long standing expectation they've had of me. Or because their assumptions about the kind of person I am have been proven incorrect.
I'm fed up with double standards and the quiet stress of living in limbo-despite the fact that our landlord has graciously given us the opportunity to continue living at here with a slight raise in rent. We're still planning, thinking about or being pushed into purchasing a home. Whether or not that's what we decide we want to do won't end up mattering in the long run. I have a feeling we're going to end up buying a house whether we want to or not, whether we feel ready for it or not... just so that we don't have to deal with the guilt trips and bullshit that will follow by not living up to someone else's lofty expectations of us.
Our happiness be damned.
Our personal comfort or goals are not a matter to be considered.
I'm fed up.
A very, very large part of me wants to say, "Fine, we'll buy a house." And then move up to Oregon or Washington and then quietly inform people that we don't have a guest room, we'll never have a guest room and that if they would like to come and visit there's a very nice hotel down the street.
I want to leave this area. I never would have stayed here this long if I hadn't married a man who so loves to live here. In this expensive hell hole full of too many rude ass motherfuckers.
But life is what it is and sometimes you have to roll with it instead of mold it.
So right now I'm rolling.
But I totally have brakes, so I'm not too worried.
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