I don't need a damned title...

Almost 2 months since I made a post. Eh. What's to say? Not much has changed really. Still tired, still financially struggling (but who isn't?) still existing...

I'm sick of myself complaining, but really what else is to be done at this point? Why bother to complain (but you know I will anyway)? I'm just point blank burned the fuck out. I'm sick of everyone and everything and I just don't care who knows it.

You know I was listening to this syndicated talk show a while back and the topic for the hour discussed single parenting, moms in particular. A woman pyschologist said that the worst thing for any mom is to get to that point where you feel like you want to run away and never come back... Even though we all know that the feeling/emotion is temporary the implications behind that thought were deeper and more troubling. Because for a mom to get to that point implies that she's overwhelmed, pushed beyond her limits and needs a break. It implies more importantly that she doesn't have the support she needs to endure. And that's where I am now. It's not as if I've never been here before. I vividly remember the same feeling from the days prior to Trinity's birth. I'd been going strong for about 3 years since Jaalyn's birth, day in and day out, through all her sicknesses, milestones, appointments and plays and all of the drama from my failed marriage and her father's bullshit.

And then one day I snapped.

I loved my daughter more than life itself but the thought of having to spend one more day worrying, planning, cooking, cleaning, providing... just the responsibility of it all. And the fact in itself that I was doing it ALL, alone. It wasn't supposed to be that way. It wasn't fair. Everyone else got to go about having fun, spending money on themselves and doing what they wanted to do to attain their goals. And here I felt I was being held back, not necessarily by parenthood, but by my own restrictions set in place to put my child's needs and desires before my own. Just plain old parental overload.

And that's where I am now. I'm just worn out being the only responsible one. The only one to problem solve. To look for summer care, summer clothes, attend parent teacher conferences, schedule doctor's appointments and provide constant stimulation and entertainment. Cooking meals, worrying, monitoring medications, and that's just the things involving the children. I also have the added stress of worrying about my father's worsening depression and anxiety as well as my mother's deteriorating mind. I'm stressed and I'm overloaded and overburdened. Trinity's going through separation anxiety again, typical for her age, but the fact that I can't take two steps away from her without her bursting into tears is wearing on me. I am constantly trying to evenly spend time with both girls, separately if not together, and the constant strain is killing me.

And it's not as if this is a crisis of great proportions, because it's not. It's just that. I don't know, I wish... I wish for lots of things. Sometimes I wish I could be frivolous, get my hair done, get a new dress and feel like a woman instead of a frumpy mom. Sometimes I wish I didn't have to worry about money so much... or my parents... or anything. I wish I could be a little bit selfish and do for myself every now and then.

But I can't. It's my lot in life for now. It won't always be this way I know. But it sure gets hard sometimes to keep on trudging on, day in and day out and looking out the window in hopes some multi-syllabled person would come along and whisk me away from all my troubles.