I throw in the towel, the count down is over!
I don’t want to do this anymore. I don’t want to struggle through classes or find an internship or be in this stinking situation anymore!
I want it to all be over. Finished. Completed. I want an end to this crazy impossible, mind numbing, soul draining, turning-my-hair-white situation. I want things to finally get, well, easier. If it’s not having to figure out what is going to happen next, it’s figuring out how to make things, everything,including myself, stretch farther. And in the middle of all of that it’s the never ending constant companion of stress. How do you constantly find faith in the midst of this? How do you keep on keeping on when all you really, desperately want to do is curl up in your bed, cry-no sob really-until you finally, exhausted, fall into sleep? And then all you want to do is sleep and sleep until hopefully you wake up to either an angel by your bed or the booming sound of the Lord’s voice giving you very detailed instructions of what your to do next. And then what your supposed to do after that and so on, until there is finally, blissfully, a resolution to the oppressive craziness that has become your life.
You see, I LIKE not running around like a chicken with my head cut off going hither and yon. I actually LIKE my falling-down-around-me house (though I do pray to have one that isn’t soon. I just like that it’s mine, on my own, ya know?). I LIKE being home with my kids. No, I love it. Because I love my kids. They are by far two of my favorite people. I have a whole list of favorite people, but they, along with my husband, take the top three slots.
I like not interacting with a lot of people.
I said it.
I’m not good at interacting with others.
In fact, it down right aggravates me and wears me out. I feel like I’m constantly pretending that my life doesn’t exist or that my husband isn’t in prison. I’m constantly pretending to be someone I’m not. And it’s beyond taxing. Putting a smile on and pretending that all is well, having to answer that I’m good when someone asks me how I am, when in fact, I’m not, no I’m not really ever good. I’m tired and lonely, sad and hurting because this stupid situation, this injustice that my little family has been through isn’t over. I still go to sleep at night and desperately wish I could remember what it’s like to hold my husband’s hand or to have seen him helping the boys with something. And if I was totally honestly, I didn’t see much of that when he was home. But I have hope of seeing it when he gets home and we get to know the man he is now and not the man he was. I lay in bed at night and desperately try to figure where we can go when I can’t afford rent or the gas in my car to get me back and forth to a job I don’t really want runs out. And it’s not because I don’t want to work, but because I wholeheartedly believe that my kids are my job. Did you know that kids in our situation, kids with a parent incarcerated are 75% more likely to do the same? That’s not going to happen to my boys! And the only way I know how to do that is to BE there for them, to homeschool and to pour into them constantly. And all of that pressure gets to a person. It gets to me because I want to do it well. I want my boys to be able to provide for their families, to love the Lord with all they have and for us to have a lifelong relationship that is healthy and close.
So, for today, in this moment, I quit.
But tomorrow, is another day. We’ll see if I’ll quit tomorrow.