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Archive for June, 2017

Morning person

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The ugly cry is not fun. The before and after hardly qualify as fun either. As I plod to my car at 1am on Monday morning after an eight hour work shift on a Sunday evening, following a four hour shift at a third job at church, I start to cry. 

My body aches from hours of retail floor set  activities and Sunday school on the floor. I cry. Then, I get angry and louder and punch my steering wheel, while I make mental comment to myself (great, now you’ll have a bruised hand). Now the ugly comes on in a torrential hail of tears, slobber, and snot/tears. My teenager and preteen had gotten into a fight like they always do when I leave and the youngest locked the oldest one out of the house. During a rainstorm. 

More ugly crying. Not because I was exhausted and in pain, but because I have failed. I have failed to raise two kids who can tolerate each other and behave for 8 hours in a non homicidal fashion. I have failed to provide financially for them because I “chose to make that decision” (thank-you ex). I have failed to be the mom that I wanted to be. I have definitely failed to be the wife that I wanted to be. I have failed in so many ways that I can’t even remember a good thing right now. I have failed to pay my rent on time. Again. My utilities are late. Again. My check engine light came on and has maintained its presence for a whole week now.

I have failed to get it inspected since it went out in January. Somehow food and child expenses seemed more important at the time. 

More snot. More tears. More sobbing and hitting things. Screw washing my face at this point before I sleep. Screw everything. I get to get up in 4 hours and go to a job that I hate. For what? I don’t even know anymore. Cue more tears and snot.

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Two years ago today, my mother in law passed away unexpectedly. Two years ago, my life was turned completely upside down as my husband’s life and health spiraled down at break neck speeds. 

I never really got to grieve my mother in law’s death. My husband had a massive heart attack the following day. Her funeral, I was told, was beautiful. I was in a waiting room while my husband was on the operating room table with his chest cracked open. 

I didn’t know that I would never see either one of them again. My husband physically survived, but his personality was gone. The person that I knew was beyond gone. 

Now I sit in an armchair in my rental home. Looking out the window and thinking over the last two years. So much loss. So much heartache. These are not cherished anniversaries. I miss my mother in law. I miss the ex-husband that I used to know. 

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It’s Friday!

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