The great unraveling of my life has left me bare bones and nervous. If you've been following my blog, you probably noticed that I didn't post much in March. That's because I was using my creative energy trying to regain my footing on unstable ground.
Here's the thing: I thought I had a good handle on being a single parent. Okay, a reasonably good handle on it. I was managing the juggling pretty well or at least as best as I could. Then Ben had his surgery in January that cost us a fortune in out-of-pocket expenses followed by Briahna getting into trouble in February that resulted in us returning to counseling. All the while, I think I'm keeping it somewhat together---as together as I can get anyway, all things considered. But I'm not. That's the truth. I am not.
This morning I looked Ben in the eye and had to say no to him participating in something he loves. We just can't do it. And I feel as if the unraveling itself has stopped and left me with an empty spool. I cannot help but feel that I let my kids down somewhere along the line...that I have let myself down.
Sean died 4 years ago. I admit I had been arrogant at the time in thinking I would have my life together and be fabulously fantastic by the time the 5th anniversary of death day rolled around. Well...that dreaded anniversary date is six weeks away and I am fabulously f*#*!d.
I don't know where the time went, but I do know I wasn't idling away. I was home schooling my daughter who had severe anxiety attacks for 2 1/2 years. I was building a foundation for my business. I was keeping the kids in a routine while they healed from the loss of their dad. But as this anniversary date approaches, I feel anxiety for how much I had wanted to accomplish by now. I wonder if it's time to give up the house. I cringe at my bank balance. I cling to faith that we'll make it even as doubt whispers that there is no way we can rebound from this.
I hate this feeling of letting the kids down along the way. They have already had so much disappointment in their young lives and I don't want to add to it. Hell, the same goes for me. Maybe this time of year--six weeks before the anniversary of Sean's suicide--will always be a measuring stick of sorts for me. They have been so far. Of course my birthday falls into this same six week pattern so it may be a combination. Either way, I look at where I wanted to be by this 5 year mark and feel angry that I'm not there yet. Angry not with Sean or with outside circumstances, but angry with myself for falling short.
Happiness used to be an easy state-of-being for me. And, no, it's not a simple thing to correct. There is no 'snapping out of it' or waking up and saying 'I will be happy today no matter what'. For the most part, I can be happy with my friends or goofing with the kids. It is the moments at the end of the day when I am alone with my burdens that I no longer smile, when the act of smiling seems more like a forced event than a natural occurrence and when I feel the true meaning of loneliness.
Single parenting is not something I signed up for. All those plans Sean and I made together, all those dreams we had of watching our children grow up...well, those unraveled, too. And despite how it may sound, I am not complaining. Life is what it is and right now mine has worn me out. I know what I am capable of, yet am annoyed with myself for not achieving it all yet. I know what I can handle, and am sick of people saying "God never gives you more than you can handle". I get it. But I say enough!
So here I sit surrounded by the shredded yarn of my life and realize there is nothing left to unravel. There are no strings left to pull. I need to untangle myself and figure out what to create from the mess.
About Moxie Girl Musings
Moxie Girl Musings is about starting over from square one after tragedy impacted my young family. It's filled with stories of triumph, struggle, snafus, hopes, and dreams. Sometimes there will be features from other writers that I like and every so often I'll include an original short story, but normally I simply write what's on my mind at the time. Welcome to my unfiltered true-life story as I figure out this thing called life. http://www.amberleaeaston.com