I am 43, living in a 100 year old cottage that frequently has small, brown, gross centipedes crawling across the floor. I live in this old, tiny house with my 17 year-old daughter, Sissy, a Pomeranian and a emotionally needy Siamese. My ex-husband, Sissy's father molested her two years ago. We left him, he went to jail for a while, and Sissy never wants to see him again. His family blames me. Sissy's grandparents and aunts from his side have nothing to do with us anymore. We are barely scraping by financially month to month. My boyfriend of two years told me yesterday he never planned on marrying me. I have a blood clot on my butt that happens from stress (lovely, I know but hey....that's what's happening today). I carefully sit here waiting to go to the doctor to have it painfully removed. (It happened when I kicked Sissy's dad out so I already know the drill)
Today is the first day in two years where I finally am feeling my sanity slipping away.
Did you know that there is a place your brain tries to go to when the world presses down to hardly on you? I do now. I like that place. It is kind of like a little vacation in your mind. It is truly like a secret hiding place, warm and comfy in your head where you can go to get away from the pain. I liked being there and wanted to stay. But then a vision of Sissy's smile broke into my hiding place, and pulled me back out. I can't go "bye bye" now. There is a beautiful girl with a broken heart that needs her mama.
No comments:
Post a Comment