Tears

Today as I walked down the street, my sunglasses hid my streaming tears and I thought, this MUST be rock bottom. 

It started last night. My eldest daughter is away on a camp which is always enough to send me into a frenzied panic. After the last nightmare I managed to (almost literally) twist the arm of the Principle to give her special dispensation to take a cell phone with her. I know other parents will groan and say, what happened to the good old days when kids camped without cell phones, blah blah. But what happened when kids got hurt and emergency services couldn’t be reached soon enough? What about the kids that got fiddled with and had no ability to call home? I WON’T have that for my daughter. I want her to know she’s SAFE, and can contact us when she needs. Plus she’s been ill the last few weeks with fainting, I need to know if something happens I’m contactable. Last time it was her bloody cell phone being used in an emergency because the idiot teacher wasn’t prepared. She’s a good 6/7 hour drive, or a one hour flight (that’s not terribly regular). Just too far for my liking. Anyway, some jacked up teacher with little man syndrome decided to exert his authority and take my daughter’s cell away. Which resulted in my threats and a call to the cops. Hey, I said I want my baby safe and fuck me, I will move heaven and earth to make things happen for her. Eventually the stupid twat backed down, and for my OWN benefit I will avoid him to save myself legal wrangles when I rip his face off.

So for two nights I didn’t hear from my girl and I was about to drive up there. S basically called me over bearing and yet asked ME to follow up with the school and camp. That’s right, I’m the over bearing BITCH but if you want something done – ask me. I fell slowly Into a spiral of feeling like I was doing everything wrong. And not having any support really hurts. It’s another beastly reminder that I’m on my own. Not to mention that this situation triggers my own PTSD and the guilt and self loathing feeds into my depression. But I can go fuck myself right? I’m only good for S when he needs me to step in for his work and social engagements to look after the kids.

This morning I woke up ready for my appointment with Work and Income. Basically to relinquish all dignity and ask the government for financial support. It’s soul destroying, confidence blasting and leaves me feeling like even more of a gigantic failure I already am. Look at me rocking 35 with NOTHING and no money.

I noticed straight away that my tyre was flat. A nail straight through so completely irreparable. I had to drive it slowly to the tyre shop when a new tyre would pretty much drain the little money I had left. I was beyond gutted. So while my car was getting fixed I walked solemnly to the office. Going through realms of paperwork and uncomfortable realities, it turned out my new permanent residence visa doesn’t show exactly how long I’ve been in NZ. Until I can confirm that, I’m not eligible for anything. After 3 hours on hold to immigration I was told that they could SEE my status but weren’t authorised to send confirmation, instead there was a process which took 20 days. So a sickeningly long time frame. The woman in the office was helpful and sympathetic but there wasn’t any more she could do. I then walked the distance to my psychiatrist’s office to request a medical form be filled in. Don’t get me wrong, this is no mean feat. I’m ashamed of having a mental illness, I’m ashamed that I need medication, I’m embarrassed that I can’t function normally at the moment. So passing over the form was a huge deal, but I was dismissed and I told to pass it to my GP. Get someone else in on the act. 

When my car was finally ready, I drove to the GP and explained to the receptionist I needed the GP to complete the form – even though I know they’re not treating my mental health.

I hate all of this. I feel like I’m begging for hand outs.

S was out tonight catching up with friends. He got back not long ago while I was looking after the three kids. He looked tired and moaned about it, but I’m sorry, you know you have work on and a trip to Auckland coming up – why push yourself? He’s off tomorrow for J’s birthday and not back until late on Friday.

He can’t possibly understand how I’m feeling right now. I’m alone, I’m struggling, I’m going through the degrading process of requesting handouts. All because he doesn’t love me anymore.

So as I walked the street today I wondered, how bad does this have to get?

I have nothing.

I am nothing.

I have no future.

I have no hope.

At least I have my kids. They’re all I have.

I just feel like I’m walking the street in the rain without anyone to hold me and tell me, it’s going to be ok. It won’t always be like this. And I’m not strong enough to tell myself.

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3 thoughts on “Tears

  1. I’m so sorry you are going through all of this and it feels like you’re alone. It’s so hard to keep moving forward when you’re feeling defeated and alone. Keep pushing! You can and will get through this time and come out on the other side. Keep your head up!

    Like

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