Defeat

Gah. I hate that this blog is becoming this weepy, sob story. I'm sorry, but then I'm not, because I've always promised to be real on here. The good, the bad and the ugly. This is probably going to be more on the ugly side. With tears and cursing. Like cursing with the eff word, so prepare yourself. Today I posted on FB that life had defeated me. If you were wondering approx how long it takes to get out of the denial/shock stage when you lose a spouse, it takes about 2 months and 2 days. It takes about 2 month and 2 days until it hits you like a fucking freight train, that you are all alone. You are alone to deal with life. There is no one there to discuss work shenangins with. No one there to say, "yeah let's go out to eat instead of cook tonight." No one there to deal with the 2yr old when you just can't anymore. There's no one there. I just can't anymore. I can't handle that every day, we pull up into the driveway and Kaleb says, "No home momma. Not Kaleb's house". I can't keep having this battle with him. Neither of us want to go home to an empty house but what the hell are we supposed to do? Sit in the driveway all evening, listening to songs? Because don't think we haven't attempted that. I can't keep dealing with the unreasonable meltdowns about shit like, he didn't want me to take my shoes off or he can't take his blankie with him into the shower. I just can't deal with these day after day, all alone. I was getting a nice 2 hour break in the evening when he would go to bed but somehow in the last week he has decided that sleeping in his own bed is completely out of the question. I mean, why sleep in a toddler bed when mommy has a nice cali king with just 1 person in it? Why shouldn't he scream his fucking lungs out at his door, demanding to be let out? For two hours I am battling with this kid about him sleeping in his own bed. For two hours, we are both crying. Up until today, I've been really thinking, God has so much faith in me because he has given me a lot to deal with and here I am, dealing. Look at me, I'm all strong and getting through this. But then it hit me and took my breath away. I actually had to pull over and breathe. I needed breathing to be enough right then and there. But it wasn't. It was 5:20 and Kaleb needed to be picked up. Then it would soon be 6:00 and Kaleb would need to be fed. My God, look at me, I'm speaking as though my child is burden and not a blessing. He is absolutely a blessing but he's a blessing that has to be fed, cared for, ass wiped, bathed and dressed. I have to accomplish these things because I'm his only parent. Holy shit. I'm his only parent. Is it going to upset him to see me cry? Am I gonna screw him up for life because I can't get my shit together? Lord have mercy, why do you have so much faith in me to handle this? I know I'm not alone. There are many many people who have offered to help me with whatever. But honestly, what do I ask for? Who wants a phone call at 11PM with a crazy crier on the other end? And even if they didn't mind, what do I say I need? These type of moments hit me last minute and unless you are right there, right then, there's not much to help with. Not that I don't appreciate it of course, but you know what I mean... Today defeated me because I said out loud, "I just can't." Today defeated me because I sobbed uncontrollably into Kaleb's dirty diaper. There were literally tears falling into poop while he asked me where did I have "owie". Today defeated me because I have a little man, currently laying next to me in my cali king bed, rubbing my leg saying, "momma no cry, I wuv you." I can't even, y'all. As many have said, tomorrow is a new day and maybe, just maybe, the freight train won't hit so hard and there will be less tears. Less tears would be good. You win, Tuesday, you win.