Money is the root of all evil. I'm pretty sure I've said that many times before. Having money makes you entitled, puts you in a position of power. Not having money, well we all know that that makes you the opposite.
I was trying to take the summer off to be with the kids, but it appears I may not be able to enjoy that luxury after all.
Drinking makes people turn into assholes. Like Jack Nicholson in "The Shining".
I have a temporary roommate. And two more kittens. Ugh.
Exactly what I intended for my living circumstances. (Do you sense the sarcasm?)
This roommate is Logan's boyfriend. Yup.
Here's a little back story...
He was living with his Grandma in Bucksport. They evidently were served an eviction notice. The Grandma moved out and went to live with some other family members, leaving him in the apartment until the eviction, effective July 30th. Unfortunately, he's not on the lease... The owner finds out he's there, it gets messy, and he has to vacate immediately.
So Logan gets up the other morning all in a panic... I have to go get him, he has to leave the apartment, the owner is coming, he has nowhere to go... etc, etc, etc...
So.. what am I supposed to do??? Say- hey, tell him good luck with that!
A mother, painted into a corner.
And so, I say- just bring him and his shit here.
And that was it. I had no time to think, had no plan, and I had no time to "consult" my husband, who was still in bed. You can imagine how that has gone over.
Actually, you can't imagine. Because I couldn't have imagined the culmination of it myself. It wasn't pretty. And that was an understatement.
Now, my marriage has already been quietly on high alert these last couple of months. I say quietly, because it's been under rug swept, back burner, etc.. Like something you know is there, but you keep averting your eyes, looking at other things that seem more prevalent. And now, I honestly have no idea what will happen next.
Add to that, the fact that I almost don't care. Partially because it got so ugly so quickly, just last night in fact.
But mostly, because I am just drained out.
This last month, watching my father die has completely emptied me. I truly feel like I have absolutely nothing to give to anyone. Hardly even to my own children. And since Dad's been gone, I'm even more empty, if that's possible. Just emptied. Devoid of any feeling whatsoever.
If I could change myself, or my grieving process, get better, act better, be loving again, feel loving again... I probably would. I might will myself to, if I could. But I cannot.
My therapist told me not to "get stuck". I'm not stuck. Christ, it's been less than two weeks since Dad left us. I'm not stuck. I do want to feel better. I don't like being hollow and despondent all the time. But it won't go away. Maybe I am stuck. Who fucking knows.
Either way, the shit seems to have hit the fan all at once. Isn't that the way it always is? It's famine or feast, drought or downpour. So much shit, so little toilet paper... And all of those other nifty little idioms.
I need a reset.