• Sooo Fucking mad

    by  • June 12, 2018 • * Safe for Work *, To You • 0 Comments

    Dear Brandon,

    It isn’t your fault that I am feeling this way… Well, maybe a little bit. I want you to come home and be super dad, to give me a break so that I can disappear into a gallon of booze or a line of cocaine. I guess I am glad you don’t do everything, that wouldn’t be good for either one of us.

    I am just mad about the whole situation: the money, the sex (or lack there of- with other people- I miss that), and my confusion over new identity rules. I am so glad to be beginning in money, but it doesn’t seem to be putting a dent into what we need. Last night, when we reviewed our monthly spending, I was shocked that it was 4k… And my own individual was 800. On what? I know a majority of it was medical bills- but still 1500 for a family of 3, and one of them a baby? It should be at least below 1k.

    I haven’t had to watch what I spend in a long time. It has been 4-star hotels, travel and anything that I want. Don’t get me wrong, these things do not make me happy. But I worked hard to get to that level where I could do/but those things, but with the birth of our little one, my ability to do as I chose/to make that amount of money was stripped for me… I guess, stripped is the wrong word. I chose our son over work… I chose spit-up over glitz and glamour, and I chose watching what I spend over nights on the town.

    I guess I want it all, but who doesn’t? Sometimes the rage builds I side of me. This desire to scream at the top of my lungs, ‘This IS NOT my life!’… The desire to run away. We both are such free-spirits. You are more than you know- you just didn’t have a chance or freedom to explore before little man came along.

    He is the best thing in our life. I love him more than anything, and I feel blessed to have him. However, I was not prepared for how much my life would change- or how permanently. I figured a year off and I would go back to work, now I don’t know if I want to go back to work. The thought of those days being over- top restaurants, lavish hotels, flights anywhere… Makes me kind of sick. I am a simple girl, but I got used to my life being a certain way.

    What does this all come down to? I am throwing an endless tantrum, and grieving, for the life I had… And the one I will never have.

    I love you more than anything. Rest assured, no one could replace you… I just love you so much that sometimes it scares me. I know you have been struggling with depression too, and the thought that I may not be enough for you- my inherent fear- makes me ache inside. I want to be your everything. I want you to k own that you are more than enough. If there is anyone that isn’t enough it is me. I am no longer her the sexy, professional woman you fell in love with. I am the stay at home mom with bed-head, because I couldn’t find enough time to take a shower, let alone put on make-up or change my clothes (how many times today?) before you came home. I don’t cook, I try to clean… But I often struggle to find time.

    This week heralds your first father’s day, and I want you to know, baby, that we can- we will- make it. I love you with all my heart and you are a better father than I could ever imagine for our son. I don’t know what I would do without you.

    Just know that you are always enough, and that I love you!

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