This whole single mothering thing is getting to me. I keep toggling between bouts of hate/depression. Hate for The Hubby for abandoning me (I know he didn't, but try telling my heart that) combined with a yearning for him. A need for his touch, his voice, heck even his snoring.
The depression part. If it weren't for the kidlets, I wouldn't even get out of bed most days. There's no point. I'm barely cooking and cleaning. I'm basically doing the bare minimum needed to survive. There's no point. I'm not going to cook a pot of rice and chicken for one. Dishes pile up in the sink for days at a time. Why clean? There's no point. No one's coming to visit, no one's home to look at it. It's just the boys and me. I haven't even been going to church as often either. Don't want to have to talk to people and deal with reality. I know it's not good, it's unhealthy and even toxic for the kidlets to be in this kind of environment but I just don't care anymore. I have gotten better though, I actually fired up the stove and cooked twice in three days. That's a record for me nowadays.
