Life is a Bitch.... Fuck Her Till She Screams

I pride myself on my optimism and my strength. I do my best to keep my head held high and my heart in a happy place. I am failing in that in the last 11 hours or so.

I am not handling things with my typical gusto. I no longer have the ability to handle the circumstances of my life on my own. Unfortunately, I have to ask for help. There is no room for error or for fun anymore. I have to put on my game face and bust ass again.

There are few things that I despise more than feeling as though I have lost control of my life and what happens to me. At the moment, I am catastrophizing and I feel as though I have. Worse yet is that there is no end in sight for another three years.

Three years is a long time. A lot happens in three years. Three years ago, I was 6 months pregnant, in an abusive relationship, struggling with my body image, not completing coursework, riddled with anxiety, and unemployed. I had no real grasp on what I would do with my future or how I would shape my life. Everything was this impossible haze. I didn't know where to start.

Now, I don't know how I will finish.

I have come to far to turn back now. Yet, I don't feel as though I have it left in me to go the duration. There are so many loose ends. So many disappointments. I can't even begin to describe how many things that I am fretting over. That I am trying my best to not drill me into the ground.

The most depressing part?

It is about the money.

I am not a money loving person. I like nice things. Don't get me wrong. Yet, I would rather be poor and happy than rich and miserable. Unfortunately, I cannot achieve all of the things that I need to without money. I need funds to pay the lawyers, the daycare, the tuition and on and on and on.

Worse, yet?

I should have had enough. I budgeted. I planned. I laid it all out. I figured out how much I would need for X, Y, and Z. I didn't venture away from that. Unfortunately, I didn't plan on opposing council being on drugs. Ok, that isn't verified. However, he has made enough sporadic and unnecessary legal actions to make me assume as much. All of these actions have cost me money. A lot of money. Twice the amount of money that I had expected to use for this case.

I have always been the black sheep in my family. I graduated high school through independent study, dated two drug dealers, became a pothead, went into an inpatient facility, got pregnant at 21, and spent two years attempting to rid myself of the father. To some of my relatives, I will never be able to redeem myself of the potential that I wasted. I was the top of my class, beautiful, witty, and I had the world ahead of me. Now, I have to beg for their help to make it to what they see as another whim.

These relatives expect me to fail just like my mother did. They see me as her replica. I do my best to make it clear that I am not her. I try and try and try. Yet, there is no way for me to not ask for their help in this situation. I need it.

Worse, yet?

The money that is gone? It came from losing my mother.

I know that it is somewhat irrational and immature; but, that money was what I had from my mother. All of my childhood, she promised me that I would be taken care of. That I would never have to worry. That she would make sure I could make it through school and become independent. Then, she went off the deep end and I was left to fend for myself.

She spent the money that my relatives had put into my college account on drugs. She squandered half of my father's retirement on the same pursuits. I thought that it was all gone. That there was no help coming. That my mother had failed to keep her promise.

When she passed away, my relatives told me that there was something left. That she had insisted upon a life insurance policy being kept for us. Even with all of her transgressions, she was able to insist upon that. There was enough left of my mother in the drug addict to set something aside for my sister and I.

I told myself that I would set a good chunk of it aside for my daughter. That I would start things off right and make sure that she had college taken care of from the start. I wanted that to happen before life got in the way. Before I had the opportunity to fail her in the same way that my mother had failed me.

I wasn't able to do that.

Instead, I have had to spend that money attempting to defend my rights for her. I have had to squander what I had wanted to set aside for her education on making sure that I was able to have custody of her. I have had to defend my fitness as a parent. After spending the first two years of her life begging her father to even contribute to her care at all.

There are no words to describe the level of despair that I am feeling right now.


There is just so much that has gotten wrapped up and rolled together in this. I know that this feeling will pass. I know that it will work out. I know it will be OK.

Right now, though, I feel very low.