I'm exceedingly sad today.
For some reason today feels worse than all the other days. And I'm not at all sure why.
Maybe it's because the test is over and done with and I don't have anything to fill my thoughts but with WHAT AM I GOING TO DO? WHAT ARE YOU DOING? YOU AREN'T DOING ENOUGH! DO MORE! WORK HARDER! TRY HARDER!
I have to get a job. It's very simple. Yet, I still feel horribly displaced and out of sorts by all of this. My baby is away from me every day and I only see him three hours a day during the week. That barely feels like mothering to me after doing it for 24 hours a day for more than 3 years.
I know that many displaced homemakers such as myself have gone through this and it's comforting to know there's a universe of women who know what this is like... but it still sucks shit. It sucks. fucking. shit. And a half.
This past Friday my financials with Rooster split. Meaning, half his paycheck goes into my own separate account now. I received my cards in the mail weeks ago, but never activated them. I thought I was lazy, but really, I was in denial. As I slid the card in the ATM slot Saturday to activate it a little piece of me shredded. My own account. Alone. Separately.
Rooster is cracking under the financial strain of doubling our expenses. I don't blame him. Meanwhile, I continue to shatter into a million tiny bits and pieces. A little here. A little there.
I look into Hawk's ocean-colored eyes with the dark blond lashes and I see love and hope. I look into the mirror and I see sorrow. Stark and lingering.
I'll be ok, I know this, but... but I don't know what.
I look at my friends and I see more love and support. I would drown if it weren't for them, their belief in me. I am dried up inside. I care about so very little anymore. I feel almost nothing when I am alone.
Every day I think about my future and my baby's. I am proud of myself and feel strong then I get sucked into a vortex of fear and self-doubt. I love my life -- love it -- but it also feels like Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde. One week I am Jessica. Rowdy, raucous, bold. The next, I am Mommy. Loving, responsible, devoted.
Each week causes me whip lash they are so utterly different and each so potent in their affect on me.
My bank card somehow proves this. I am on my own. Alone. Both me and myself.