I am a single mother.
I am drowning.
I've officially become the one thing that I promised would never happen. I've brought my children back to my childhood.
I'm numb. I'm floating in the middle of a dark sea at midnight. All I see in every direction is black. Miles and miles of black. Where is my spotlight? My beacon of hope? Where did I go wrong this time?
Why is it fair that he spent ten years ruining my life, leaving my broken, afraid, and unqualified to face life, while he sits in a fully heated perfect little home, with brand new furniture and a steady income?
Where is my beacon?
Am I asking too much? Am I becoming that person that relies on everyone else to do what I should be doing? Am I officially that person that everyone hates? The one that I promised I would never be? The "welfare mom" that could get a job, but refuses because its easier to take advantage of everyone else? Is that what I'm doing? That's what I feel like I'm doing.
I supposed I could always go with the "ten years of abuse" route. Explain that every blog post on this was soaked with a false positive. Strategically worded so that all you could see what the wonderful bits... not the sheer pain and confinement that I was always feeling without even knowing it was there. Telling you about the cute things my children did, instead of explaining all the names he called me, or the many holes or destroyed televisions etc. The bowls of food thrown or the numerous affairs that where so obvious to everyone else, but not to me in my own little bubble of reality.
I was abused by a man.
To me, that's not enough of a reason for me to be in this situation. I'm living my childhood all over again, except now I'm the one that isn't adequate.