I am not having a good day.
I won't go into details here, but I am frustrated as hell and so sick of the way things have been in my life these past few years.
Before my mother got sick, I was doing pretty well. I started out with a hard road to walk because I had my kids young and was forced to forgo the latter half of a college education to be a single mother, but I was finally standing on my own two feet and really starting to get my shit together. I had finally dumped the last in a string of shiftless significant others and was concentrating on being a working mom. I was no longer living paycheck to paycheck and I had received a bit of life insurance money from my father's death. I was bringing home the bacon and frying it up in a pan.
When my mom's health worsened, everything changed. My brother lived 20 minutes away from her and I lived in another frigging state. Guess which one was making the daily drive after work to go check on her and make certain she had food and clean clothes. ME. It wasn't long before the decision had to be made to move her in with me. Doing so took a fair amount of the money I had saved...and moving to Arizona a year and a half later...mostly for mom's health...took most of the rest.
Now, here I am...back to scraping pennies and not being able to give my family the things they want and deserve. Here I am...worse off than I ever was before. Here I am...doing my best to hold on to what I have and pull back ahead and getting kicked in the skull every time I turn around.
[bangs head on desk]
I am just trying to do the right thing...to be a good daughter...to return all of the favors that she did for me when I was younger and needed her help. And THIS is what I get for it.
[bangs head on desk again]
I feel so alone...in a house full of people. I am so exhausted. I am so drained. I am so unfulfilled. I am constantly so worried.
Is it too much to ask for me to be able to be happy?
