I’ve been having so much anxiety and depression this week over turning 30 on Sunday. It’s not the number at all. I don’t care about that. My problem is that I feel like I should be at a better place in my life by this age.
I sit here and think, wow, I’m living with my parents – again. I never seem to be able to stay away for long. In fact, being with my ex was the longest that I’ve ever NOT lived with my parents. It’s pathetic really. I can never quite get my life together enough to not have to depend on them.
It makes me sad that I’m not able to give Kendal a better life. One where she is in a stable household with 2 parents (biological or not) and has all the opportunities to do things that she should have. I want so badly for her to be able to experience life and the world, but I can’t give that to her at all. I can’t give her a father figure, because I’m too afraid that I’ll just make the same mistakes again and get myself into a similar, if not worse, situation. Yes, she has uncles, and a grandfather, and a god father – all of whom are absolutely amazing and I love more than anything in this world, but it’s still not the same.
I look at my bills vs. the money I bring in, and I realize that I don’t know how I’m going to get by much longer, let alone ever be able to live on my own with a baby. My ex is paying nothing as of yet, not that I really expect him to pay if he has to, but I’m starting to drown. I can feel my head slowly sinking into the water and I don’t really know what to do about it.
At 30, I sit here, with little education (only an AS) and no idea if I’ll ever be able to find the time and money to go back to school. It’s depressing. I feel like my dreams from when I was younger are all now so far out of my reach that I might as well just resign myself to the life that I have, and be thankful that I’m at least alive. But somehow, even the thought of the resignation is simply no comfort.
I try to figure out where I went wrong, how I didn’t see the signs, why I didn’t listen to everyone else. But now it’s too late, and I am where I am. Yes, I’m luckier than a lot of women are, but I still can’t help but feel like in the end, he wins, because I have nothing. He’ll get to see his daughter, play games with me in court, do whatever he wants, and I can’t say anything because if I come off looking like the bitter and jaded ex, I could stand to lose a lot more. Gotta love our system.
I’m sorry to make this into a pity party. I’m just feeling so awful, and I needed to get it off my chest. I really just want to go home and go back to bed and cry for the rest of the day. I wish I could turn back the clock and never give in to the pressure that he put on me for that first date. Because maybe, just maybe, I would be happy with my life if I had just been able to stand my ground all those years ago. And maybe I wouldn’t be so afraid and hesitant to stand my ground and do the things that I want to now. Who knows…