Here I am again, broke as fuck. I don't know how I keep myself in this situation, but I honestly feel like I'm frozen in time. I can't move, I can't change. I have no idea what to do. I have no vision of the future. All I see is me scraping by, day by day, until I die.
I don't know what I'm waiting for, maybe it has to come to a point where I have less than nothing. I can't even admit to myself how desperate the situation is because there's always that (good or bad?) little voice in my head that soothes me into inaction... "Just wait, something good will happen. Someone will help you, someone will save you from yourself."
I try to introspect, because the truth of the matter is, I've been barely surviving for the longest time and I can't see why I sabotage myself. I know I'm lazy, but I also have some pride. But it's a bad combination because this is what makes me hide. I cannot talk about my financial problems because I am deeply ashamed. Instead, I blame everything else outside of me: Lack of business, too much expenses of the kids, stuff breaking down, staff problems, and ultimately, the death of Cyril.
The feeling that keeps me heavy is anger and resentment. I DID NOT ASK FOR THIS. I am not prepared to be a single mom of three. How can I be expected to take care of four people when I can barely care for myself? I don't know a single person like me and it's so unfair. I don't have the tools, I wasn't taught anything about survival in the real world. I can't wrap my head around it, even now, five years later.
Most days I can bury my head in the sand, but when shit hits the fan (aka 'broke as fuck'), it floods my brain. I feel like a loser but at the same time, I blame the world. I can't get past my personal barriers. I cannot succeed until I hurdle my emotional obstacles.
The irony is that I need money to do this. Therapy is the only way to get clarity. No amount of prayer is enough. Sometimes I feel like praying is just like me and my mind pretending to figure things out, when actually, it's just the blind leading the blind.
I just want to crawl into bed and die. I'm not afraid to die, you know. The only thing that would break my heart is having the boys suffer inside. And so I try, because I don't want them to be unprepared for their lives. I keep up the facade so they feel safe. If they only knew.