How low can you go?

As I've said before, my blog is my space to share -- the good, the bad, the funny, the sad.  It's also a way to connect with others who might share my experiences, as well as provide a platform that I might offer something too, even if it's as simple as a five-minute diversion from your world.

Maybe you've gathered, maybe you haven't but I consider myself a believer.  I wouldn't say I'm devout, but I've been given a good moral and faith-full foundation for my life and I'm thankful that I can draw on it in times of need.  Boy, is this a time of need.

I'm really struggling.  I'm having so much trouble navigating these changes in my life and I find that I'm not doing very well.  I find myself wanting to go back to the way things were when I was single because I knew that life, I knew how it worked.  I don't hate my life now but I feel like I don't know how to do it and I'm failing.

My (biggest) issue:  the dog.  In and of itself, it's not the animal.  It's what she represents -- a complete and total loss of control, an unwelcome (in my book, children are welcome - just to be clear) intrusion on the serenity and balance and order of my life.  I made light of my earlier post when she destroyed the house, but in reality it was all I could do not to burst into tears and run screaming from the house.  It was absolutely not her fault, she did not do it on purpose and I do not blame the dog.  But I couldn't help but think that if she wasn't there, it wouldn't have happened.  If she wasn't there, we could have nicer, new throw pillows in the house, I'd be able to leave my slippers on the floor, I could roam freely in the house, leaving doors open; it would stay cleaner longer. 

I try to apply perspective:  children make messes too.  But I can't shake the notion that it's not the same thing.  A dog is not my baby, it's just not the same thing.

I don't know what to do.  I want to run away and never come back because of this dog.  I know I have said that before, yet here I am saying it again.  The feeling hasn't gone away - if anything, the pregnancy hormones have made it worse.  I resent Drew because I feel like he takes the dog's side against me, that he doesn't understand my anxiety, my desperation, that he's focused on the fact that it's his dog and if I loved him I'd try harder.  How do I convey that I'm trying as hard as I can?  That yes, fine I agreed to this but I am seeing now that I am not up to the task?  I can't. do this. 

I start shaking when I think of life with this dog and newborn.  She's getting bigger and more powerful and jumps higher and nips harder and I'm terrified of what that will mean with a baby in the house.

Drew and I got into a terrible fight last night over the dog.  But again, it's not her - it's that she represents something that makes him happy and to him, I'm trying to take that away.  But I'm not that kind of person, I'm just not.  His happiness is extremely important to me but at what cost? 

I can't make him care more about me than the dog.  I can't make him see that I'm miserable, mildly depressed even.  The house is filthy and I don't even bother cleaning it because the dog will just make it dirty again.  What's the point?  And I know that's not the real me - I don't let things get me down.  I don't admit defeat.  But lately I just find it so hard to care.

When it was just me, my home, my sanctuary, my base, was so special to me.  It was just a generic one-bedroom apartment, but to me it was my haven.  That's how I see my home -- so how do you deal with people/things in your life that don't respect that notion?  Who says that type of thinking doesn't matter?  Men get their man-caves, shouldn't women get a sacred space?  I feel so lost because I don't have an escape, a place that's off-limits to everyone.  Even having a time that's off-limits would help so much.  That used to be my yoga but even that's gone.

I keep saying that I miss my yoga and I miss the calming effects it has on my life but I don't go.  That's me - I take responsibility for that.  I don't go because I feel so guilty not coming straight home and caring for that dog.  That she's cooped up and it's not her fault and she needs to get out.  So then I feel resentful that she's taking from me.  I have had a chair in the garage that has sat there for the longest time because if I even think about taking time to re-do it, I feel guilty, because that's time I should spend training the dog and working with her, and that's what gets thrown back in my face.  If you spent more time with her, she'd be better behaved.  If you tried harder, things would be better.  You're not trying.  It's your attitude.  You're not trying hard enough.  But I really really am.  I swear it.  

Where did this come from?  I don't feel guilty for anything.  Usually, I do what I please and apologize to no one about it, but it's only because I don't really do anything major.  I don't apologize for laying in bed and reading a book or something equally decadent.  When did I lose that part of me?  Why did I let it go?  Why have I allowed myself to sink this low?  

I spent all last night in prayer with my lovely beautiful friend Kesha.  She talked with me, she listened to me and she prayed with me.  I'm so far past empty at this point only God can save me.  I'm praying that God changes my heart, that God will guide me, direct me and help me to find happiness again.  I'm praying that I can find peace in this chaos, that whatever path I'm given, that I have the courage to follow through, whether it's stay and cope or something else.  

I don't know what's going to happen.  I don't know where we're headed.  We both threw down lots of ultimatums last night.  Ultimatums, that if followed through, spell disaster for all involved.  I don't want that, but I can't sacrifice my sanity.  I feel like it's all I have left, and even that is shaky at times.  I don't know what to do -- how do you be okay with someone/thing f*cking up your world with no regard for you and your space?  Moreover, WHY am I supposed to be okay with it?

And kids are not the same - they're just not and I won't believe otherwise.  They're not.  Being a mother to a child is not the same as being an owner of an animal.  It's not.

Why, instead of saying 'I'm calling someone right now to come get the dog because I don't trust you' couldn't you have said 'I'm sorry you're struggling, let me see if I can call someone to come give you a break'.  Not combative but compassionate.  I'm not trying to cause trouble, I'm not stirring the pot, I'm just trying to preserve my sanity.  Why this animosity, this 'me against you' stance? 

I don't want to fight - I don't get off on it, I don't enjoy it.  I thrive on balance and peace and compassion for those we're supposed to love.  Where did I go wrong?  How do I make it right?

ugh *wipes tear*  I hate feeling like this.