I am angry. I am tired and I am sick. I am tired of being sick. I feel lost. I feel lonely. I do not feel happy. I am tired of staring at the computer. I am tired of waiting for him to call or email. I am tired of disappointment. I feel like nothing is going right. I am tired of my kids not listening to me. I am tired of yelling at my kids and threatening them because they don't listen to me. I am tired of summer, of heat, and sweat. I am tired of my house being a mess. I am tired of not having the energy to get off my butt and clean. I am tired of not having a routine, but am overwhelmed when I try to come up with one. I am tired of cooking, and also of not cooking. I am tired of not eating right because I can't muster the strength to make a good meal (one with vegetable, which I love, but am lacking in). I am tired of the television being on during meal time, because it fills a void left by his absence. I am tired of missing our family dinners.
Um, I think I might be a little depressed. And that is not a good thing.
I am tired of being a single parent. I am ready for this all to be over, to start the next step, the next journey. And I am just exhausted by knowing we still have a few more months.