Being a mom

I just need to…write. I guess. I’m not sure what else to do.

It’s the weirdest things that will set me off right now. My son has a motorcycle – bought and paid for himself. He’s rightfully proud of that bike, and loves to ride it. Every time I hear a motorcycle go by, my heart stops. Not too bad – except that I live by a major interstate.

I just got an alert on my phone to remind me (as if I needed reminding) that his birthday is coming up. Not even 20 years old, and his future is at stake.

I need to eat, but…the thought of it makes me physically ill. I *did* have some tea this morning, so that’s progress.

I have some pretty rare book sets, and I’ve thought about trying to sell them to raise money, but…it would take too long. By the time I’ve done that, it’ll be when I’ll have my paycheck anyway. In the meantime, I worry about whether he’s getting the messages I’m sending, or seeing that I’m trying so hard to schedule calls and visits with him. He’s young and scared, and has no idea how any of this works.

And that breaks my heart even more. Does he think we’re ignoring him? Does he know that I’m LIVING by my computer, trying to get information, to schedule calls and video visits? Taking my phone literally everywhere with me so as to not miss a call if he tries?

I can’t stop crying. My heart is shattered. And I feel so goddamn useless.

Author: stillmorewords

Small-town girl, living in a big city. Former Coastie, married with 2 kids. Inveterate reader of all genres, though non-fiction and YA currently rule. Former indie bookstore employee, small business owner, tea drinker.

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