Stressplosion

I think I’m due for an explosion of stress, because dammit I am stressed and its really bringing me down. When my rent check goes through, and thank God it’s going to at least go through, I will have $2 left in my account.

It’s fucking Christmas time. I’ve gotten no gifts for my kids, again. I just can’t fucking afford it. Thank God my family loads them up with gifts and they never really know who the gifts are from (or not from), so they’re just happy. That’s really all that matters and I’m thankful for that. I just wish I could do more.

At the end of this school year I won’t have to pay the hefty tuition for my son anymore. That’ll be nice. The sad thing about it is that it won’t really be extra money, it’ll just allow me to not drown quite as much each month.

My boyfriend helped me out again with money. I really freaking hate asking him (or anyone) for help. Especially him though. I want to be as little a burden to him as possible. I want him to stay around and so when I have to ask him for things I worry that I’m chipping away at his wanting to stay with me. I hate it. It helped immensely though, and so I am thankful.

Again, it’s fucking Christmas. I always have high hopes for things and it just never fails. I have all these fucking medical expenses and things I’ve got to pay for my kids and I just can’t fucking do it. I have to pay my daughter’s dance tomorrow and guess what? I don’t have it. This is the first time and I may just have to ask if they can wait for the payment. My electric bill is due soon…and guess what? I won’t have it. It may have to be a few days late. I’m never late with my bills. But right now, god what’s happening? I don’t know why things suddenly got so much tighter. If I didn’t have kids, I’d fucking walk away from all of it. Live in my car. I hate when I think, “Hmm. If I eat less this week, I won’t need as much groceries and I can maybe save a little there.”

WHAT THE FUCK. And meanwhile that asshole is luxurizing (yes, I just created a word) his prison cell with televisions, keyboards, radios, boots and special foods while he writes my daughter letters telling her how it’s going to be “just the three of us” when he gets out. Oh, and by “the three of us”, that means him, his new girlfriend, and my daughter. My ten year old who has only ever been with and taken care of by WHO? ME. What a fucking asshole loser.

And then there’s the other one still crashing in his parent’s basement. When is that slumber party over? It’s only been 6 FUCKING YEARS and every year it’s the same story. “Oh yea. I’m moving out soon. You know. I might get married or something. Yea, I plan on moving. There’s renovating this place for me.” Right. Mhm. Ok. Keep inking up your body with expensive tattoos, smoke your fun little plants, buy the beer that gets you DUI’s and keep dodging your child support. The court keeps letting you slide by anyway so why should I care?

Luckily for my two amazing kids, they have a bad ass mom who fucking figures shit out and gets shit done. If it weren’t for me, they’d probably be in foster care because they’d have no one else taking care of them.

What fucking losers. And who decides its a good idea to become the girlfriend of a guy who is incarcerated and plans on hanging out in there for at least 5 more years, if he’s lucky. Oh, and he isn’t taking care of his kid. Oh, and did you ask him why he’s in there? Maybe you should of started with that but hey. We all have different ways of doing things. Who am I to judge.

I want to throw up. Except that would piss me off because that’s like losing money. I have to replace the emptiness with some sort of nutrition.

I’m not happy today. I felt awful this morning and my brain was going to shits and I’ve been moody and hateful of everyone all day. I’m hungry. I’m angry. I’m lonely. I’m tired. I hate life.

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