So

I had a list of things I wanted to write about. I've been up to shenanigans. John has thrown like 8 curveballs this month.

But all I can think about is how much I don't want to exist anymore.

I have my THIRD sleep study later this week. Weeks ago I had to come off Prozac for this sleep study.

And I wish I was dead.

I'm not a good mom. I'm not a good employee. I can't maintain relationships, friendly or romantic. I feel helpless and hopeless. I don't want this life anymore.

The next person to tell me that things will get better, they'll get better when I can take Prozac again this weekend.

But no. That's not the case at all.

I've reached out.
I've taken the meds.
I've seen therapists.
I struggle and try. And I have. Every Goddamn Day. since I was 16.
I'm so tired.
I get up and show up. I graduated from college. I got two degrees. I've held a job with the same firm for 7 years. I've raised a child.
Don't you dare tell me that I need to hold on.
I have been exhausted and miserable for YEARS.
Motherfucking YEARS.
I don't want to do this anymore.

Yes, sure. My brain is a dick and telling me these things.
But guess what?
It always has and it always will.
My brain chemistry is wrong.
I'm put together wrong.
I'm not supposed to be.

Brandon 3

What am I doing with this man. Every other day, I'm thinking, "I'm in love, have a key to my home, live me us, love me like this forever." And then on the other days, "The sexual attraction is ....lacking, for fuck's sake stop talking, please get a job or a hobby or fucking something to do besidesfollow me like a puppy."

Its not good. I know I'm making this worse. In a phase where I thought it was love, I introduced Brandon to the kid. And my mom. And had dinner with his mom and brother. And agreed to a trip together next month.

Now I'm obligated to stay for a while.

He has like, 2 flaws. Nothing major. Nothing that should prohibit me from being crazy about this man. But I'm not, most of the time. The idea of starting over exhausts me. I don't want all the damn dating apps. I don't want shit first dates and awkward conversation. I don't want to throw this fish back only to find out there is nothing wrong with him, its what's wrong with me that makes me feel this way.

Lemonade

Beyonce is getting me through some shit y'all.

I know its not "for me." But I love it, its art, its important, and I love it.

I had my heart fucking broken in January. Crushed. Wrecked. Destroyed. In a way completely different than the other times. In a way that makes me question and wonder and worry. And I'm different. He'll forget me and I'll forget him, but I'm a different person now. Harder, tougher, thicker.

I am the dragon breathing fire
Beautiful mane I'm the lion
Beautiful man I know you're lying
I am not broken, I'm not crying, I'm not crying
You ain't trying hard enough
You ain't loving hard enough
You don't love me deep enough
We not reaching feats enough
Blindly in love, I fucks with you
'Til I realize, I'm just too much for you
I'm just too much for you
-Don't Hurt Yourself

And your heart is broken cause I walked away
Show me your scars and I won't walk away
-Sandcastles

And I've been hustling like a champ this year:

She pushing herself day and night
She grinds from Monday to Friday
Works from Friday to Sunday
Oh, stars in her eyes
She fights and she sweats those sleepless nights
But she don't mind, she loves the grind
-Six Inch Heels

I'ma keep running
Cause a winner don't quit on themselves
-Freedom



But can I get back to a place where I let someone in?
Maybe.
Maybe not.
I don't know what I'm doing. I'm almost 30. I'm not ready or excited about it. I don't feel like I'm on track. I don't know what on track would look like anymore.
But if Queen Bey can get back to love, I'll fucking try again.

All I wanna, ain't no other
We together, I remember
Sweet love all night long
-All Night

Current Mood

Stood there and watched you walk away 

From everything we had 

But I still mean every word I said to you 

He will try to take away my pain 

And he just might make me smile 

But the whole time I'm wishin' he was you instead 

-Haunted, Taylor Swift

I wish

I wish I was dead. I don't have the balls to hurt myself, but if there was a home invasion, if I was in some horrific accident, I wouldn't mind.

Light

I haven't written in a while. I didn't have much to say that wasn't depressing. But I'm doing better now. I'm not 100%, and I'm not sure I've ever really been 100%, but I'm doing pretty great. My Mom has been such an amazing help for the last month. My Dad too. There are little bumps here and there, but I'm managing them. I'm getting out of bed and actually living. My new little business venture is keeping me busy and motivated.

I think the best part is that Landrie and Chelsea and Rebecca have all told me that I seem so much happier and excited than I have in quite a while. I am so glad that I have them (and about 15 other amazing girl friends) who kept me treading water for the last six months or so when everything seemed terrible and I wanted to give up on myself and life.

I'm still on medication, I'm still seeing the therapist, but I feel lighter. I feel pretty and funny and worthy again. I'm knocking things off my to do list, I'm doing things I want to do, I bought a plane ticket to meet up with these amazing girls for a long weekend. Things are looking up.

So I was thinking...

Here are a bunch of thoughts I need to write down so I can stop thinking about them.

1. Jack's stuff is boxed up and ready for him. He has like two things I would like back but I just can't get up the nerve to text him. So I guess if he wants his big pile of belongings, he can make the first move. 
2. Its so so so cliche to say "let's stay friends," especially since Jack doesn't really "do" friends, but I miss him. Neither of us are mad at each other? Nothing when catastrophically wrong, we just decided like grown ups that we aren't right for each other. Does that mean we never speak to each other again? I guess we don't have any real need to be friends, we don't move in the same circles and would just be confusing and sad. I deleted him from FB, but only because when we broke up in July, he admitted to keeping tabs on me. If he wants to know how I am, he can ask me, otherwise he can just wonder about it. 
3. My ex husband is sniffing around. He's being very nice and letting me see the kid on days that aren't mine because I'm so pitifully lonely. I'm like 5 cocktails away from just getting back together with him to keep the black hole of loneliness from swallowing me whole. 
4. My friends are advising that I not sleep with the ex husband unless I want to get back together because without a doubt, he'll catch feelings about it and it will be a disaster. So they think I should get on Tinder and just bang a couple of randos.
5. I cannot bang any randos because my head is still not right. I though Jack and I were in love. I feel like he let me go so easily and without a second thought. I feel like all the things he said when we were together were just pretty words with no feeling or conviction behind them. So yeah, I could go out and catch a dick, but I'm unloveable. So if I went home with a one nighter, its highly likely that I'd burst into tears and act like a fucking weirdo. Because right now, more than I need to feel sexy and desirable, I need to feel loveable and worthy. 
6. Waterproof mascara is a joke. I finally quit trying to wear make up for this week because I just cry it off. I look like a gremlin without make up, but on the plus side, no one notices my puffy eyes because I just generally look unkempt. 
7. You know how my parents are generally dismissive of me? My feelings aren't valid, I'm just dramatic, depression isn't real, my problems aren't real problems. My Dad, my goddamn Dad who NEVER talks to me on the phone, called last night to check up on me and tell me that they will help me how ever I need help and to think of depression and anxiety like a broken leg (i.e. its a real medical thing requiring treatment). Which isn't a new thought for me but I've never heard that kind of stuff from him. 
8. Having my parents acknowledge that I'm struggling makes me feel worse. I must be the poster child for someone who is "in a bad way" if even they notice and worry about me. I mean, I appreciate their concern, but fuuuuuck, apparently my facade of holding it all together is not fooling literally anyone. 
9. Whenever I go through a breakup or am especially anxious (i.e. my current life) I don't eat. I just have no appetite. To be honest, I don't want to do any of the things necessary to keep on going. Washing my hair and shaving my legs sound like feats requiring entirely too much effort, and I'm single now, and with no makeup I already look like a billy goat, so who the fuck cares, right? But anyways, eating. It sounds like too much effort to make a meal, or even take the steps necessary to buy a meal. So I just haven't. I'm not hungry anyway. Plus, eventually I'll get my head screwed on straight and Natalie minus 10 lbs. is a better version to present when I eventually "get back out there." But my sweet little boy noticed I wasn't eating and insisted that I have dinner. 
10. I know I'm not quite 30, but when is it ok to just quit? No more websites, no more awkward dates, no more searching for this mythical, lasting love. I figure I'm about 3 more cats and an increased drinking habit away from embracing the Cat Lady lifestyle. 

Help.

I think my least favorite compliment is to be told I'm strong. I'm not strong at all, I'm just stubborn. If I don't go to the grocery store, or pay the bills, or teach myself to do taxes, or push myself to keep going when I just want to stop and cry, nothing gets done at my house.

I'm the only adult. I have a kid and two cats counting on me. I'm not strong at all. I often wish I never was, like in Its a Wonderful Life. I don't think I have it in me to hurt myself. But I wish I never existed. I wish that everyone I know, or ever knew, would go on living their lives as if they never met me.

I'm depressed. Its not just the break up, it's everything. It's work, and my ex, and my kid, and my friends, and my parents, and my finances, and my ever growing to-do list.

I get up and show up and through sheer force of will, I keep raising a kid and going to work. No one else thinks anything of it. But it's so fucking hard. I don't want to do any of this. I want to lay in my bed and cry and sleep. I want someone to notice that I'm at a breaking point, they don't have to fix me, just acknowledge me, hug me, sit with me for a minute.

It had been months since I had an anxiety attack. Yesterday I had two.
I keep myself physically busy, but my brain never stops. Sometimes I wish I were just a bit dumber so that my brain would focus on one task at a time. I can be watching tv or reading or working, and doing fine and absorbing that, and at the same time, my brain is overclocking itself.

My sleep is all fucked up. I needed pills to get me to sleep. Then I could get to sleep easily enough on my own but could never get enough. Two sleep studies later, I'm slapped with a sleep apnea diagnosis and handed a CPAP machine which all but guarantees I'll never have sex again. I finally got used to the stupid darth vader mask and sleep with it for most of the night, but now I'm back to not being able to sleep. My brain sits there replaying conversations, playing out worst case scenarios, pointing out my every flaw. Do you know why I'm able to be so funny and give a minimal amount of fucks what anyone thinks of me? Because nothing anyone can say to me is half as mean as what I think about myself.

My brain will be the death of me.

Winter Repeats

I wrote something a week before Christmas, getting all my ranting frustrations out. I thought that would be enough of a release but it wasn't. I plucked up my courage and had a conversation with Jack about the state of our relationship.

It went fine. He said the right things, he always says the right things. We had 3 good days over Christmas. And now it's back to how it is. He has some stuff going on, and its not my place to talk about it, so I won't. But how much slack am I required to give.

Something always comes up. There is always some new reason why he acts the way he does. I'm tired of talking about it. He'll say all the right things. I'll feel like a bitch for even making us have a conversation. Things will be good. And then back next week I'll be right back here again.

I don't know how to get out of this rut. And what's worse is that I don't think I can.

A New Project

I need something to do. The kid is with his dad half the time. Jack doesn't have a job but I don't see him any more than I did before. I have some free time on my hands and I need to fill it or I'll get into trouble. Books and TV aren't holding my interest, and while I could and should go to the gym, I'm going to be honest and say that's not going to happen.

I need a hobby. But I feel broke as shit and nothing sounds interesting. And its too freaking cold to take up something outdoorsy. (Everyone else in the Pacific Northwest has an outdoorsy hobby). I kind of want a part time job. Something I could do on the side. Not retail because the hours suck and they always schedule you for inconvenient times.

There is a MLM I'm considering. I buy the products anyway and could do it, but it seems so pyramid-y. I'm doing some research and finding that I wouldn't need to sign other people up, in theory I could turn a profit just selling the product, not creating a team or downline or whatever you want to call it.

Extra money would be nice. The kid is only going to get more expensive as he grows. I need to make sure that I won't lose money because I can't really afford that. I'm planning to talk it over with my dad because he's extremely smart and level headed. I know from watching my friends sell shit on Facebook that this looks like a dumb idea, and I keep talking myself out of it, but there is this tantalizing chance that I could actually make a buck. So I keep reading and calulating and thining and debating.

The Grinch

I am trying like hell to get in the Christmas spirit. The tree went up right after Thanksgiving. we visited Santa, we made cookies, we decorated the house, a gingerbread house, watched all the classics, Christmas music round the clock. I'm just going through the motions for the kid. He's old enough to get it and be excited. I want him to have a good Christmas and set the foundation for fun traditions.

If I'm honest with myself, every holiday since his dad and I split up has been like this. I just don't give a shit. I go through the motions and do what I need to so that the kid has a good time. There is no feeling behind it for me. I don't need any gifts. I don't care if I wake up to an empty stocking. Usually 4th of July is my favorite holiday but John, alcohol, and my drunk mouth ruined that this year too.

I don't think this is depression? I take my meds, I go to work, everyone is happy and healthy and there is food in the house. I do all the things I'm supposed to do or "like" to do. It's like I've lost my sense of taste, you keep eating to survive, but you don't really care what  you eat. You eat so you'll keep living but you derive no pleasure from it.

I used to easily read 40 books a year. I think I've read 5 this year, maybe 10 last year. I just can't get into anything. I've been listening to podcasts and watching the news more, reading more articles online, so I haven't let my brain completely atrophy. The DVR fills up with the shows I've asked it to tape and used to greedily devour. I just don't care anymore. And I thought, ok maybe this show got boring or that show lost good characters. But has that happened to every show I used to like? Maybe it's just me. I used to love hockey, I haven't watched a game once this season.

I wake up, I go to work, I parent (with varying degrees of success), I go to sleep. Repeat.
I make time for friends. I maintain a relationship. I run errands. I have conversations. I turn the tv on but don't absorb what they say. I am hollow.

I don't think I'm depressed. I'm not really sad. Nothing is wrong with me, my life is as fine as it ever is, little bumps here and there.
I've never been suicidal, but I've periods of life where I didn't want to exist anymore. It's a weird concept for some people to get. I don't want to harm myself. I just wish I never was. I think about not existing, if somehow I disappeared, but it had no impact on my parents or kid or anyone else.

But I don't even feel like that right now. I feel like I'm in a body snatchers movie or something. I see my life unfolding in front of me, I'm sitting in the driver's seat but I can't or won't grip the steering wheel. I guess the most fitting word is ennui. I don't know how to shake it.

Broken

I have an iPad but I don't use it often. Recently the Kid and I went on a little trip and I downloaded some apps and shows onto the iPad. Anyway, getting the iPad out, I was reminded that my texts go to my phone, computer and iPad because they are all linked. There was a whole text convo with Tom from last May.

Because reliving old hurts is my version of self harm, I read through a large part of it. It sucked. We were so in love, I thought. We did favors for each other, Tom took care of me and I took care of him. I was so spoiled. He would come over for a week and help around the house, drive me to and from work and then fuck me all night.

I don't miss him as a person. He was controlling and scary and I'm glad to be rid of him. But I miss the dynamic, I miss the person I thought he was. That version of Tom would have done anything for me. Not just talk, he did several amazing, difficult, selfless things for me. I don't have that anymore.

I know it's not fair to compare the two, because right now I'm reminiscing about the good parts of Tom and the bad parts of Jack, but my relationship with Jack is so much harder. Jack is good to me, he's good to my kid, he's never given me any reason to be afraid of him, he's been kind and funny, he brought soup to me when I was sick. He checks off all the boxes, but I feel like we are going through the motions. I have a deep sense that he's "not that into me."

His biological clock is ticking, I'm here and I'm "good enough." He's not crazy about me, he's just not that into me. I don't know if its because we aren't right for each other or because we need more time. Maybe I'm just feeling low because we haven't seen each other in two weeks (trips, schedule conflicts) we've texted, but no phone calls besides me calling to wake him up.

I can feel him settling. Maybe I am too? I don't know how to separate the good parts of the relationship with Tom and the bad. Tom and I would text constantly throughout the day, even when we were at work. Jack and I don't do that. Is it because Jack isn't a control freak and trusts me? Is it because he's a workaholic? Is it because he just doesn't want to?

Ducklings

The whole conversation I had with Jack had my brain working overtime. For a few reasons.

1) Does he really want a baby with me, or is it just because he's getting older and I'm the girl he's with currently?

I told Jack we have a lot of ducks to get in a row before we can even seriously discuss the idea of having a baby.
2)  What ducks need to get in a row? I thought about it, and came up with 4 ducks. (It's feeling weird to keep saying duck. Calling them issues or problems doesn't seem to fit, so I'll keep saying ducks. Deal with it.)

Reframing the Issue

I belong to a few Facebook groups. The smallest is a group of 20 women. A handful of us are single moms. One of the women, Landrie, brought up today, how frustrating it is to talk about a child-free weekend (because the kids are with their dad) and married women will think its cute to say,
"You are so lucky! I should get divorced so I have every other weekend off."

No ma'am.

That is a stupid thing to say for more reasons than I have the time or energy to get into here. But Erica had a great point, which I'm not going to retype here but basically she had been a single mom and is now married to a great guy who works hard, loves her, and loves her three kids as his own.

I have a few fears I want to discuss with Jack, but mostly, I just need to calm THE FUCK DOWN.
Jack is a funny, smart, amazing, creative, hard working, caring, gentle, strong, and protective man. I am lucky to have him, hell I'm lucky to be with him. I let my anxiety and fears run away with me and convince me that he doesn't want me.

And maybe this won't last forever. Maybe Jack and I aren't meant to be. But what if this could be something great, except for me being scared and wrecking it? What it things could be good?

Jack tries. He honest to God tries to do it all right, and I've been too critical. So what that he's busy? He is busy with actual businesses, unlike a certain ex who would just play video games. I've never once worried that he's looking at another woman. I have nothing to worry about with Jack. Being busy isn't so bad, there are at least 50 other vices I could list off the top of my head.

Jack has been trying to get me to let him in and I've been the one resisting. Its foolish and short sighted of me. Jack cares about my kid too, asks about him, and was great at playing with him.

I've been letting my anxiety fuck everything up in my head.

Mom Guilt

I feel like I'm failing as a mom. Its awful.

My kid hates daycare. He's been there almost a month. At drop offs, he so sad. He stands in the window and waves to me. I blow him kisses and smile and tell him I love him. But then I have to turn my back and walk to my car and it feels like I'm abandoning him. When I pick him up in the afternoon, he is overjoyed to see me but almost cries out of relief.

The teachers say he's doing better. He has at least two little friends. But when I ask the kid about school, he shuts down or tells me the best part is when he gets to go home. He whimpers when we have to leave the house in the morning. He whimpers when we pull into the daycare parking lot.

I just worry for him because he seems miserable all day long. This week, after I put him to bed, he woke up twice in the night crying. I'd go in to calm him and ask what's wrong and he'd say he didn't want to go to school, that he was "just a little bit nervous" about school.

I don't know what to do. Because he is my child, he is nearly as stubborn as I am. For the first week, he refused to eat at daycare, all day. His dad and I started sending him with food from home and he eats a little now but the lunch lady gives me grief every morning, acting as though I don't feed him enough. The mom-guilt is crushing.

I don't know what more to do. In the mornings before I leave him, I give him a big lipstick kiss on his hand, so he'll have a kiss from mom all day. I also put a heart sticker on his shirt, which is his backup kiss for when the lipstick washes off. He has pictures of his dad and me and him in his cubby. I reassure him that mommy or daddy will always come to get him. None of it seems to make much of a difference.

I Can't

I can't stand it. This relationship with Jack. Whatever I'm supposed to call it. He calls me his girlfriend, "my sweet," "my love." I know it looks lovely from the outside, and probably from his perspective too.

I can't relax. Today for example, I received one text late this morning. And I responded and received nothing back. That's fine, or would be fine, except that the evening Jack broke up with me, he spent all that day not talking with me. So today, and anytime he doesn't seem very "chatty," the level headed part of my brain tells me he's busy with work, he's driving, he's asleep, he'll talk to me later. But the louder part of my brain says, "He's going to leave you again." I comb through our most recent interactions. Did I say the right things? Was I supportive enough? Did I ask thoughtful questions when he explained work concepts? Did I overstay my welcome in some way?

I look for my faults. I start mentally preparing for the break up. I have my kid and my friends and my job and I'll stay busy and be ok. I harden my heart.

And then, the break up doesn't come. But the cycle repeats. I cover my heart with layers and layers of shields so I won't be hurt when he leaves me.

We don't say "I love you" anymore. I don't know if I can honestly say that I am in love with Jack anymore. I'm too scared to be that vulnerable. And he doesn't say it either, which only reinforces my belief that the next breakup is imminent.

Since the break up, Jack doesn't come around when my kid is home or awake. I'm scared that he's stringing me along, but because he is a decent person, he doesn't want to get my kid tangled up in a confusing situation with "mommy's friend Jack." I guess that the smart choice, it makes sense and I'd do anything to protect my son's feelings, but its another weight on my heart that Jack isn't really in this and I'm fooling myself.

Because of his chronic lateness, Jack works fairly late into the evening. As a result, we usually just see each other once on weekdays, once on weekends. Twice a week. I guess that's supposed to be enough? For me it doesn't feel like enough. For all my fears, I crave Jack. I want to be snuggled up against him, wrapped in his sweatshirt, laughing and talking as much as possible. There is so much I want to see and do and share and learn with him. But If twice a week is sufficient for him, then I'd seem like a clingy, needy, crazy person asking for more.

I guess what it boils down to is that I've been in relationships where I was cherished. Where I was my man's number 1 priority. And if our current relationship is how Jack treats his number 1, then it isn't enough for me.  I don't want John back. I don't want Tom back. But I miss feeling like someone out there was thinking about me, that I was the bright spot in his life, that he would notice if I was quiet, would know when I just needed a hug. Jack is too disconnected and too logical.  I think we operate on different wavelengths and I don't know if I can keep it up.

Sometimes, people Like Me. Sometimes I like me too.

I'm not a huge fan of Lena Dunham. I've watched the first 2 or 3 seasons of Girls and found parts of all the characters relatable. But besides all that, theres this quote. 

“No one could ever hate me as much as I hate myself. OK? So any mean thing that someone’s gonna think of to say about me I’ve already said to me, about me, probably in the last half-hour.” 

Holy Shit. That bitch has been reading my high school journals or some shit. I've had that same thought. I'm really hard on myself. I think I learned it from my parents. An "A-" was ok, and an "A" is better, but when I brought those home, they'd ask, "Did you really try? Did you really do your best?" Probably not.

 Academically, I'm very lucky. Giving it a moderate effort is enough for me to get an above average grade. It worked in high school. It worked as I completed two majors in college. It worked when I got not just accepted to, but offered scholarships at a handful of law schools. I know I'm smart and a lucky undeserving brat. I can't really enjoy any of those successes because I know I'm not trying my very best. But if someone tells me I'm smart, I can accept the compliment nicely.

HOWEVA-

I am unable to graciously accept a compliment about my looks. I'm the worst. I think I'm cute, or on a good day, pretty.

I'm actually pretty obnoxious with my deflecting of compliments. I've had men tell me I'm beautiful or sexy or whatever. I used to verbally disagree. Then I progressed to not arguing, but I would roll my eyes, because I'm awful. Now, I still roll my eyes, but I'll correct myself and say, "Thank you."

Building self confidence is a big project, one I'm not sure I'll ever finish. But part of helping me with this project, was finding women who get it, who lift me up. I will always be thankful that I stumbled across Brittany Gibbons' blog years ago (Brittany Herself) through her blog, and later facebook group, and later still, her book, I've made amazing friends, learned a lot, laughed a lot, cried a little, and I'm a bit further along in my journey towards seeing in myself what others already see in me. 

Thought Dump

I'm just sad. Sad and defeated. My Kid hates daycare. I hate that he's miserable. I hate the disruption of our routine. I feel pressure from all sides, in every aspect of my life. And I don't think I can fulfill all my obligations.

I talk to Kate. She empathizes with me. She's kind. But I hate going to her for support because I feel like I'm always taking from her and not giving enough in return. I don't want to burn her out on being my friend.

I tried to talk to my mom. It turned into a whole discussion about me not wanting to go home for Thanksgiving, about how I'm still so hurt about the way my parents maintain a relationship with my ex husband, all her justifications about why my parents have the relationship that they do with my ex.

I don't feel like I can talk to Jack, especially since peripherally, my stress involves my ex husband. Last time I handled my stress badly, Jack dumped me. I'm not going to turn to alcohol this time, I just want to sleep and cry, its a different kind of sadness. But I don't want to give him a reason to cut me loose. And he's tired and busy with work and 50 other things, I won't allow myself to be another burden on him.

I'm in a low, shitty, awful place. The kind of headspace where I regret my divorce. Not because it was a mistake, but just because my life would be easier if John was there to help with the daycare shit. If I could count on John's paycheck. If I had someone in the same predicament with me, someone to help me figure this out. It's a weird thought process. I don't have any romantic feelings for John. None. Let's get that out of the way first.

I just wonder if we were still together, sure I'd be unhappy. But John, the Kid, my parents, John's parents would be happier. Is my happiness worth more that the happiness of 6 other people, one of whom is my son?

I feel like a selfish horrible person. I feel like all of this is my fault and I deserve this sadness.

Worn Out

The kid started day care last week. Its a long story, but his nanny of three years was no longer able to watch him.

The kid HATES day care. And because he is my child, he is stubborn as hell. He cries all day and though food is provided, he eats nothing. He tells his dad and me that daycare is "not a happy place for me."

I got a book about a raccoon that goes to school, I give him a lipstick kiss on his hand so he can have a kiss from mom (until he washes his hands).  We had to start sending in different food just so that he would eat something.

My heart hurts for him. He's never had a problem that I couldn't fix for him. He has to go to daycare, and if we weren't fighting this fight now, we'd be doing it next year when he goes to Pre-K. I know he has to learn to get used to it. But I feel like he's still my baby and he's sad and I just want to make it all go away for him.

Now that I have to add pick-up and drop-off to my daily routine, everything feels more difficult. I have to get up earlier because I have to be dressed and ready earlier. I have to wake the Kid up earlier so I can get him dressed and fed before daycare, (or as he calls it, Zebra School). After daycare, its hard to go to the store or run errands because he is so tired from crying and not eating, and he is so pitiful that its hard to turn him down when he asks in a plaintive voice if he can "just go home and rest."

I hate stuff like this. Last week was my divorce-aversary, the one year mark of my divorce being final. I haven't lived with my ex in nearly two years. In the last two years, there have been plenty of times when I would loved to have had an extra adult around the house, and extra set of eyes and ears, someone tall to reach the smoke detectors, someone with enough knowledge to deal with car repair, someone to help with the bills and double-check my math on tips and taxes.

But there isn't anyone. So over and over and over and over I've had little breakdowns. Little pity parties where I mope and get mad and maybe even cry about how hard my life is and how unfair the situation is. And then every time, every damn time, I reach deep down and find strength I didn't realize I had and I get the shit done. I prepare and file my own taxes, I remember the dosage for children's tylenol, I make sure there are vegetables and cat food in the house. I keep shit running. And I'll call it a moral victory. "I didn't think I could do it and I thought I needed a man, but the strength was inside me all along! I can do anything!"

I'm so tired.

I know that the Kid and I will get used to day care. I know that it will become, if not easier, at least routine. But I'm so tired of juggling it all. I'm working without a net. If I forget anything, if I slack on anything, its all on me.

Crazy

“…I felt like I know, I know him though and I know his heart and I know what he wouldn't do to hurt me. But I didn't realize that feeling so confident, feeling so great about myself, and then it just be completely shattered by one thing, by something so stupid. But then you make me feel crazy, you make me feel like it’s my fault I was in pain.”

I am too damn old to relate to Selena Gomez's spoken part at the beginning of The Heart Wants What It Wants.

I'm disgusted with myself that I let this man dictate my moods. I can be having fun and the mention of him will send me crashing. I can be having a pity party, but kind words from him will make me feel like I'm on a hammock in the sun.

I'm disgusted with myself.