Some Things Never Change

As a child, I was the bane of my parents' existence. Always into something, always in trouble, always screwing something up. Sometimes it was little things like leaving toothpaste in the sink or leaving my bedroom light on. Often it was bigger things like getting into foods off my diet, getting my clothes ripped or stained, disappearing without telling my folks that I was going, throwing tantrums, breaking things, smarting off, among the long list of things. I was forever in time-out or getting spanked, well-deserved, mind you.

And now that I'm grown, out of the house, married, with kids of my own... I'm still a constant screw up. I am forever reminded of my shortcomings. Everything I do falls short of the mark. He walks in the door and there is always something. Toys in the front hall. Shoes in the kitchen. The dishes aren't done. Mail is on the counter. Dishes are on the table. There is always something. We try to make a sweep before he gets home and pray he doesn't come home early. Look for his triggers and take care of them. But the thing is, if I could, if I *would* just get up and clean up the house, there wouldn't be those triggers.

I was told by someone that if I took care of his triggers, he'd find different ones. I was told by someone that I will never be able to meet his expectations. But I think that our vacation disproved that. He laughed and smiled and he didn't yell all the time. He was happy a lot of the time. Because he wasn't stressed out. He didn't have to face a full day at work and then walk into a mess and have to deal with all of us on top of it. The fact is, I am a giant stressor for him. I create an anger in him that borders on rage. It isn't him, as evidenced in his temporary transformation over vacation. It's me.

Why can't I be the right person? Why can't I be who I want to be? Why can't can't I seem to want to do the things that I want to have done? I am oft heard speaking of the Tipping Point. Everyone, everything, every situation has a tipping point, that straw on the camel's back that propels someone to make a change or take action. Why can't I seem to find my tipping point to be the person I need to be?

I'm so tired, tired of fighting, tired of treading water, tired of trying to keep my head above water. I don't want to swim anymore. But once again, this ever-present, all encompassing, completely pervasive feeling of being trapped. No choices. No options. No hope.