I've been home for about two weeks. I don't have a job and I'm living with my mom while (slowly) fixing up the house next door where Mase and I will get to live rent free until further notice. I'm pretty short on cash. Actually, short on cash doesn't begin to describe it, but it's the first phrase that comes to mind.
Today, I went to the office of domestic relations and got the paperwork I need to file for child support. I have an appointment on Monday, and no, George, it's not because I hate you and it's definitely not because I want to ruin your life. It's because I love Mason so much that the thought of not being able to provide everything he needs makes me sick to my stomach. It's because I don't want to feel like I'm failing him anymore. It's because I finally admitted to myself that maybe I can't do it all on my own... at least not right now. I just want to go to sleep tonight knowing I'm doing the best I can. Making the best decisions I know how to make. Not letting Mason miss out on anything because I'm either too stubborn to accept help or I feel too guilty to do what I need to do to get it.
I don't know. All the stuff, all that crap crammed into my stupid car that I can't afford, none of it matters. The child support doesn't matter either, aside from wanting to give absolutely everything to the person who does matter in this whole mess. I have half of everything I own shoved into a $100/month storage unit, the other half not-very-comfortably occupying a 10x10 bedroom in my mom's way-too-small house, and the other half running around smilling and giggling and learning and growing and I completely understand how contradictory I must sound. A dichotomy of 'it's just stuff' vs. 'I need money'. But I can't take my big heart to the store and try to buy diapers with it. My love isn't going to send Mason to Montessori preschool.
I'm doing the best I can. I promise.
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