I have this list of posts - funny ones. Real ones. Posts that I planned on getting up here. But my mojo is broken. There have been a couple good things lately - P is nearly walking and trying to communicate and it all happened in a couple of days. A lightbulb went on. We finally got approved for Medicaid and SNAP benefits - I don't think I have ever been so excited to grocery shop.
But Hubby still can't find a job. We are behind on EVERYTHING. We are going to have to sell the mobile home we haven't even lived in yet. My settlement has been pushed back who knows how long this time.
We have applied for a mortgage, been turned down, lost employment, bought a mobile home, and ended up on welfare - all in 6 months. I am well aware that there are those worse off, but I'm really feeling the strain. We have shelter, and now we have food. But in this day and age, there are other necessities.
It's all too much.
None of it is helping me get to a functional place, although I am way better.
And then something happened. I feel more broken.
How do you tell someone that something they did, not intentionally, but certainly unthinkingly, has broken you? Has rendered you incapable of intimacy? How do you tell them, knowing that the guilt may kill them, but knowing that they need to be told if any semblance of friendship is to remain?
And more than that, how do I fix me? How do I let myself be touched, let myself trust? I have therapy tomorrow. Which is good. But I'm dreading it. Dreading what I know the outcome needs to be. Dreading the healing process on top of everything else.
My rope is quickly running out. But I'm tying a knot. I'm hanging on.