I fell off it for a while. I don’t feel like going into detail at the moment. But I’m hanging back on again for now and I suppose that matters more than the details of how I came to fall off.
I went back to university. My units are online this semester, so I can take it a little bit easy and it’ll be a massive cost cut without having to drive to campus four days a week. It was reassuring to realise that I am now halfway through the Health Science Degree, and although that won’t really get me anywhere, achieving it is the biggest step on my path to Biomedical Science. A friend in the UK just graduated to where I want to be, and she and I commenced study at the same time. That was a little disheartening. But I need to be realistic… I have twice as many children and half as much support. So I am proud of her.
In my last post, I mentioned how hard it was not to say anything to the children about their father, and I might have had a slip this past week during a tantrum.
He had gone away for a month, and had not told the children where, why, or even if he was coming back. It was hell for them and shit for me trying to help them cope. I had been driving home one afternoon, and trying to turn the stereo on at their request. The stereo has been in slow decline since I bought the car, and with increasing frustration I screamed, ripped the face panel off, and threw it on the floor, then proceeding to rant about stuff being broken and I can’t afford to fix or replace things because food and heating is more important and their father would rather go away to party and chase tail instead of helping out with the costs of raising his kids!
They were silent. And I cursed myself in guilt for saying what I said. I spoke to Ian about it afterwards and he said not to beat myself up because… there’s a difference between speaking poorly of someone and telling the truth. And the kids know their dad has priorities above them… many.. many priorities above his kids.
I hope he just .... goes away one day.
I’m very low. I’m really struggling. I’m emotional a lot. I burst into tears randomly every few hours because everything is.... hard. I told my psychologist about meeting with a friend who is going through his own life crisis, and is struggling to conceive why his wife has left him saying she can’t cope with him the way he is. I explained everyone has a certain amount of resilience… and hers is just smaller than his, and that’s okay, even if it’s also disappointing.
I explained this to my psych’.... before saying it feels like I’m on the fulcrum of resilience. Having had years and years of one thing after another and coping… now when I burst into tears it’s akin to almost tipping my personal see-saw from coping to completely not. In the movie About a Boy, when Toni Collette insists on making her son breakfast, but the cereal wont co-operate, and the bowl is stacked so it won’t easily lift out of the cupboard, and she hangs her head and sobs, but soldiers on anyway after a moment. That is it. I am Toni Collette making breakfast.
-SP
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