Mitchells in the Revolutionary War

In all these years of being a single mom and struggling I somehow believed deep down that I was doing the best thing for my daughters and that the sacrifices would guarantee them something better than what I had.  All these years later, I am not sure what I "had" in the first place. Was what I had really that bad?  Time and maturity has altered my perspective about the importance of all things in my life.

Once, I foolishly believed that getting an education would help get me a better paying job, and I also foolishly believed that just being a good person would make a difference somehow and would increase the quality and quantity of my inner circle of friends.  I am still waiting for this to be a reality.  

I'm tired today as I write this.  I have already put in almost 12 hours of work and have 3 more to go.  I don't want to work 15 hour days. I'm tired of struggling financially. I'm tired of being alone.  These are things only a few people ever hear me say.

I can no longer soothe my bruised and aching heart with the idea that the sacrifice might pay off in the long run just like I can no longer placate my doubts with a few bones of "this is okay".

The last 15 years have been this way for me, and honestly, I have moments when I feel it will never get better.  It is somedays impossible to believe otherwise.  Most of the time I put on a happy face in an attempt not to inconvenience others in my life.  I can be a hand full.  My strong intellect can almost crush others as the depths of despair penetrates deeply into every aspect of my life.

As an aside, this blog entry is similar to so many of my others.  I had so much to say and could only briefly jot down the ideas I had initially.  Once I came back to this, most of those ideas I had lost.  Isn't that horrible??