Breaking point

I've honestly just come here for a moan, so, fair warning don't read if you don't want to hear it.

Do you know what I miss? Having someone to moan to... I've got loads of friends who care but feel I can't keep on burdening them.

So I will say it here. This is So. Effing. Hard. 

Lone parenting is relentless and I'm lonely. The hard bits are harder with nobody to tag team, the good bits are hard because there's nobody to share them.  People are lovely and kind and supportive but at the end of the day behind the closed door I'm alone in this. Nobody is as invested in my child as I am. It's all on me.   I've lost my life partner and I can't even grieve for him properly because I'm so angry at him. I'll be back to work again in a few days and I just don't know how I'm going to cope. It's exhausting and I'm still swinging like a pendulum between angry and sad. 

Yesterday at the zoo I lost Oliver for a few minutes. The adrenaline still hasn't subsided.  My anxiety is bad again and that makes everything worse.  I can't decide whether to go to church today, risking tears and further loneliness at being the only lone parent in a building full of families, or stay away and have a couple of extra hours in the day to fill at home. 

I did not sign up to this life.  Yes I'm strong. Yes I'm a brilliant mum. Yes I can do this. But I don't bloody well want to. I want to hang up my cape and go hide in a cave where I can scream and cry and yell at Mark, at God, at everything. I want sackcloth and ashes. I don't want to be expected to have "got this" any more.  I don't want to hear "mummy" 50 times a day. I don't want to do life alone. 


I want a hug from an adult who loves me and can honestly tell me it's going to be ok. 

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