Why am sitting here, so many years on, absolutely seething with fury at my ex, for another lonely uncelebrated Mother’s Day?
Why can’t I let this go? Why can’t I “get over it”?
It’s been over 10 years for gods’ sakes.
I’m furious with myself for choosing him to be the father of my children.
I’m furious with him for making me a mother and then unceremoniously just dumping us like so much Christmas garbage.
I trusted him with my life. Literally, my whole life and he destroyed it all without a second thought.
Yes, it’s been in my power to rebuild my life and don’t get me wrong, I am a stronger, better person, but my life is shit. I am sad, lonely and broke. I face an uncertain future, most probably in public housing in my older years, if I should be so lucky, rather than the happily middle class life I envisaged for myself and my children.
My attempts to restart my career haven’t been the most successful and in moments like tonight they feel like a joke. Things just haven’t gone according to plan.
I thought I would be financially secure again by now, I thought I would be in a new relationship by now, but in both cases those things haven’t happened. My thoughts immediately go to unworthiness – I guess I’m just not worthy of good things happening to me. What is wrong with me? Am I fundamentally a bad person? Am I paying for the bad deeds of my past lives?
I appreciate that I’m so much better off than some people, but that is cold comfort when I am alone here on a cold and grey Ballarat day, with both kids engrossed in their video games and I am cooking yet another unappreciated meal.
I am so tired.
What I’d really like for Mother’s Day is a weekend away from the kids. All meals cooked for me and some spa treatments. And I’m angry that I can’t afford to gift this to myself. I’m just not good enough at this business thing to have the kind of life I want. That’s what’s really pissing me off. But it’s easier to blame someone else.
There is always next year.
What I do wonder about though is will my kids think of me at all when they leave home? Will all I get is a guilty phone call from them on Mother’s Day? Or will they be truly appreciative of all that I’ve done? Of the huge load that I’ve carried for them. Will they ever get it?
I didn’t choose this. They didn’t choose this. And it’s been so hard. I hope it hasn’t been for nothing.