An Open Letter to My Second Ex-Husband

I want you to know that yes, it's a lot without you.  Just as you said it would be.  Right now, it's a lot between the first six weeks of the school year (when you left, I imagined life as far ahead as parent/teacher conferences, and that's it, and now we're here), my son now suffering from what's being referred to as "chronic pain" because it's gone on so long (due in part to this divorce?  Psychological factors?  I don't know, and it's killing me), as well as my daughter's insane high school schedule.  

But I'm doing it, asshole.  I'm doing it all.

You didn't think I could, but you left your wife and her children so who cares what a shitty little bitch thinks.

The poster child

The back of my eyes hurt.

I have no time to write.  I'm drowning in work because I've been to the pediatrician, the clinic (x2 trips), the ER (in the hours of 10 pm-3:30 am) and to a specialist for my son all since 8 days ago.

I'm the poster child for when it rains, it pours.  But I refuse to lose my sunshine.  I want to be the poster child for mother fucking hope.

We're going to get my son well again.  It's been 2 weeks, and this specialist is going to have figured it out; and there will be relief for my child.

I'm going to close this entry, and I am going to rock this pile of work down and get enough sleep to survive tomorrow.

(And tonight when I go to sleep I'll think about that cute ER nurse that looked at me just like so and touched me just like so...)

And this trend where the weeks get harder ends here.

I'm the poster child for turning it into an opportunity to be a badass.  I got it all, LIFE, and I carry optimism in my heart.

"Life is 10% what happens to, 90% how you deal with it."