That’s all I’m doing right now – standing around waiting for things to happen. Waiting to hear about court dates. Waiting to hear about an apartment. Waiting to hear from my sister. Waiting to see my older kids. Waiting to see how much time I will have to sacrifice with my baby girl.
This sucks and sucks and sucks and sucks. I feel like I have an active cancer eating away at my insides. My belly burns from stress and not eating. I have absolutely no appetite and my clothes are starting to hang on me skeleton-like. Not a recommended diet plan, by the way.
But when you peel away the stress and regrets and what-ifs…I am finding a tiny creeping feeling of relief at being away from him. Not having to worry about when we eat or what we eat or what mood he will be in when he comes home. Not worrying that the next time I’m getting ready for work may be the fight where he actually hits me instead of just screaming in my face. Not having to deal with my “stepson from hell” who made my evenings and weekends something to be tolerated rather than enjoyed.
And maybe, just maybe I’m turning a little corner and accepting that I wasn’t ever really loved. Finally accepting that someone who could degrade and devalue and abuse so unjustly couldn’t really love anyone.