It ebbs and flows. Good days and then bad. And this week the bad seem to be dominating. I know it’s a process. Something that has to be worked through.
But fuck it’s hard.
Pressure for my baby girl to meet the new person. That’s a no. Absolutely not. Not for a long time. I have my reasons which are valid. But not to go into on here. Personal and private. But a mothers love is fierce and my drive to protect is absolute. There will be no wiggle room on this. No give. I will fight all the way. And win. And to be told it’s because I’m bitter hurts. I’m not bitter. I’m wounded. My heart is healing. To be told you are no longer loved when you still do, regardless of everything, is hard. Especially when you are looking after a toddler, a young dog and trying to get work back up and running.
When you are exhausted. And your brain doesn’t work. And you feel like you are drowning in everything you haven’t achieved.
No house. Garden. Garage. Conservatory.
Not good enough.
And a comment about the new one meeting all the children in the summer. That hurts. I was kept away. Always at arms length. At home looking after the dog when it wasn’t dog friendly.
The dog walker.
So fucking insulting. And yet I forgave. Time and time again.
What a fucking idiot.
And for him to want to include her in family things. Already?! It’s sent me spinning.
When lockdown happened I suggested us living together so I could look after Monty whilst he was out doing volunteer stuff with a charity. But no. So to my parents I went.
He’s talking about moving in with her.
After 6 months.
We were together, admittedly on and off, but essentially together for 2 and a bit years when lockdown happened. I only stopped being the dog walker when I was pregnant. Became official to his children. When I was pregnant with their sibling.
And still. I want to know why I wasn’t good enough. To have my family together. To not feel like a failure.
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