For some things in life, there are no
words. There just aren't. I have sat down and stared at this blank
page more times than I can count. I start sentences. I delete
sentences. Some of them are angry. Some of them are pretty lies. Some
of them are just me trying to paint a picture without giving away all
the colors. But, mostly I just leave the page blank. I stare at the
blinking cursor. I cry. I wonder how in the world my life got to this
place-this place of uncertainty, bitterness, anger and fear.
It's a terrible place, and if someone
would of told me when I was twenty-one that I would be here, I would
of laughed. I would of claimed they didn't know me. Because back then
I was virtuous and proud. Back then, no one could of told me anything
different than what I wanted to believe. Back then, all those
promises were so shiny and so new, and I believed in them. I never
doubted them for one second. But, the funny thing about life is that
it never works out quite like you had planned, and before you know
it, that nieve, twenty-one year old girl isn't looking back at you in
the mirror anymore. She has been replaced by a girl who seems
distant-worn down by life at only twenty-six.
And you wonder what happened to the
funny, quirky girl? You wonder at what point did you lose her? And
suddenly before you know it, something takes over and you would do
anything to get her back. Anything. You would walk away from
something you have done such a good job of making everyone believe
was perfect. You would ruin your reputation. You would let people
talk. You would turn your child's life upside down. Not out of spite,
but because you owe it to her (and yourself) to be the best
version of yourself. And that version of yourself doesn't exist in a
lie. A lie that forces you to hide bruises and make excuses. A lie
that asks you to walk on egg shells. A lie that forces you-bends you
to be perfect: an unattainable goal.
And so here I am: a twenty-six year old
with a college degree who is sleeping in the same bedroom she grew up
in at her mother's. My life is now full of trying to find a more
permanent source of income for my daughter and I, saving to
eventually move out of my mother's house, getting used to spending
more than one night away from the child I spent every waking minute
with during her first three years of life. In my free time I sit on a
couch in someone's office and tell them all my dirty secrets for an
hour, deny nasty rumors, try to
find that perfect balance between working mother and mother who is
actively involved in her child's life, and learn important lessons about those who actually care about
me, and those who just want to use my pain to fuel their gossip and make
themselves feel better about their own “perfect” life. Needless to say, I am not
bored.
So, you may be wondering what happened,
and how I got to this point. Well, I'm not ready to share that part
of the story. The wounds are too fresh, and people I care about read
this blog. I will not air all of our dirty laundry, mostly because I
don't want to say things I'll regret. All you need to know is that my
husband and I are working through our issues with the help of a
clinical counselor, and that right now, for me, the future seems
uncertain. I have owned up to my mistakes, because I am
aware that there are two sides to every story. I am not perfect, and
I am done trying to be. I am angry and I am bitter, but I'm working
on that. Right now, I don't feel okay, but I know that I am on my
way to that place, and I am doing my best to embrace this part of my journey.
I am overcoming obstacles one day at a time, even though some of them still defeat me from
time to time. I know I am a work in progress, and I am slowly
becoming okay with that.
So, pardon the silence. Pardon this time in my life when I just don't have anything to say. Please know that I am still here. I am still breathing. But, right now, getting up everyday and finding the energy to breathe, to work, and to be Emma's mother is all I can muster. I appreciate your patience and I covet your prayers.
