I lost it with my kids which not entirely their fault. They were not to blame...this was all my doing...venting...in a very unconstructive and unaccepting manner.
I lost my house after my husband left and was left with zero child support or alimony, he skipped the country and is back somewhere near his home in Germany. I am raising these children 100% on my own on a very meek salary. I lose it, weekly and sometimes daily but each time I lose it I feel horrible for my children. Nothing with the divorce or his leaving all of us did they bring on. It was his decision; I am sure with help from his Mistress of the last 6 years that helped him with his decision to leave. I digress, after losing the house the children and I have had to rent and I am not very accepting of this but I must do what I much do. The landlords are kind of friends, would not say very close friends but friends and I guess this gives them the right to come in the house whenever they want, tell me how to cut the grass, allow handy men to show up whenever they please and stay as long as they please. they came to the house yesterday after I had a unhappy morning of realizing that it had been a year ago that my scoundrel ex-husband had come back to the children and I asking for forgiveness from us all (which we gave two different times) only to have him leave, as usual days before Christmas. The third time to be exact, however this year he has not come back to put us through agony again. I don’t think he can get back in the country? It was a bad day; I was sad, crying, working from home, $3.77 in the bank for the next 7 days, driving my usual 38 miles round trip to two different school for the kids on an empty gas tank and having the landlords come over to tell me I need to move all our furniture out and have the carpets all pulled before Sunday because they are having stained concrete poured on Monday, which will take 6 days to cure. By the way that suggested the t kids and I should stay at a hotel for that week. F**k me. Right. Then they inform me that the second half of the house will be done the following week and that too will take another 6 days to cure. I am beside myself. I felt numb. I wanted to literally scream at them until I burst their eardrums and watch them hemorrhage from their ears. I hit my damn breaking point. Hit it hard, full force and straight on.
By the time I started my 1.5 hour long drive to pick up kids from their (different) schools I was more than upset, I was completely bonkers.
My children suffered my rage which was so unfair to them. It was one of their birthdays and I had made sauce for dinner, pasta being her favorite dish and had baked a birthday cake and adorned it with 16 beautiful candles. I so messed it all up. I was crying when I picked them up and then began giving them heck because their rooms were messy, glasses on their dressers, plates stashed under a bed, an empty soda can on the bed, clothes all over the place...and then it really starts. The venting: no one helps me clean, no one helps with dishes, no one ever helps me cook, no one ever feeds the dog, no one ever says thank you to me, and no one does anything in that damn house but me and only me. Ughhh, it was horrible, I vented so loud that my vocal cords are strained today and are highly painful.
I made my children cry because I am sad, broken hearted, penniless, almost 50 and loathe the land lord.
my beautiful babies suffered because I am selfish and cannot find enough energy and happiness to get through one day without being a b***h to them.
I know the younger ones did not understand but at least my 17 year old, 6'0, blue eyed boy understood. He came to me later on and hugged me and told me how sorry he was that dad had left us and how he should help me more now that he is the man of the house. This made my cry even more. My son, my child comforting me, his mother telling me everything will be ok somewhere down the road; my child, giving me solace. I am doing everything I can do right now not to cry here in my office. I am riddled with guilt that is going to stay with me forever, guilt, guilt, guilt. I have not been fair to my children since my husband, their father left, I have put blame where blame should not have been, I have fallen apart too many times in front of them, and I have burdened them with my pain which is unforgivable for a parent.
My children are my life, the only reason why I breath, they are my soul...even with the trials and tribulations of everyday survival and my eldest' schizophrenia and Asperger’s, the financial despair, the heartbreak, I try to get through life and be the best I can be for them...but sometimes, just sometimes I just cant.
I hate my breaking point as much as I hate my ex-husbands mistress (and him).
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