Shame and Anger.

It’s been about six months since I called the cops on my husband and he was sent back to the states. Too much has happened for me to write down.

Every time I get the thought of “oh, I really should write. It might help”, I never do. I just bottle it up. That’s mainly because I feel like it’s just going to be bitching and complaining. And I feel like it won’t stop.

I can’t even write in fucking metaphors anymore cause I feel like people will see write through it. And, creatively, I’m just not there.

Just to summarize, I’m trying to get welfare so I can get a bit of cash to get my daughter into daycare so I can get back to work. I’m running out of money and the last thing I want to have to do is live off my dad. I’ll be thirtyfuckingfour next week. I want to be able to provide for my daughter. I don’t want to have to even apply for welfare but I don’t have a fucking choice. I eventually want to move back out of my dad’s place but I’m not really to leave him alone quite yet. Plus after disappearing for like fifteen years, I feel like I owe it to him to be here when he needs me. My brother also lives here. With his dog. But I’m the one taking care of her. We also have ducks now…they’re mine and my daughter’s. The dog not pees and shits on the floor daily and my brother seems to just expect me to not ever say anything and just clean it. Don’t get me wrong, I love the dog, but I can’t be taking care of her all the time. I’ve got a 3 year old I’m always cleaning up after to begin with. And my brother doesn’t clean after himself. It’s demotivating.

Anyway, I’ll try to write more soon. There’s a lot more too say but I can’t get time for myself often. Maybe I’ll try to write before I go to sleep or something.

I dunno…I’m just so Arg right now..