I'm Crying Because I'm Angry!

I "only" work part-time. I work twenty hours one week, twenty-four the next. I have at least a forty minute commute each way. I leave for work about twenty minutes before my daughter's bus comes to take her to school, and get home a little more than two hours before she does, if I don't have errands to run after work.

I am lower management at my company, but again, only part-time. This means that if I want to provide my daughter with certain things, I need financial help. This also means I need to figure out what the hell to do with her in the summer when she's not at school but I'm at work.

So I applied for financial aid through the local YMCA.

And I was given a 60% reduction in costs for all programs EXCEPT summer camp. Unless I applied for and was either accepted or denied help from a local child care subsidy organisation. But I don't work enough hours (and can't work enough at the job I have) to qualify for their regular support, and don't know if they are getting the summer camp subsidy again this year.

I spent two hours this afternoon crafting a 24 page application for a subsidy I won't get, so the YMCA can tell me if I can get a reduced cost on summer camp.

Oh and 60% off still means at least $1,000.00 this summer for camp.

And the best part of all of this is that I am supposed to claim child support for all these applications, but my ex-husband is literally on the run, camping in Florida, so he doesn't have to pay. His assets have been frozen (but there aren't any) and now there's an order to seize assets, but he's gone. He hasn't contacted his daughter in over a month and yet I get penalized because there's an order of support.

How much support? Five hundred dollars a month.

He's given up his child, for five hundred dollars a month.

And I can't get her into summer camp.

This is my divorced life. Sometimes, I really fucking hate it.

So in the midst of this long as hell application writing, I vented to my father and there were tears. He barks at me "Why are you crying?" because any time I do he gets mad.

I'm crying because I'm angry. I am fucking pissed that every single time I have to fill out one of these fucking applications I have to explain, again, that my child's father has forsaken her. Has given her up so he can find "his healthy path" living like a feral animal in the wilds of Florida.

I'm crying because I hold it together every single day and wonder if I will ever find a partner who loves me in spite of this shadow of filth that hangs over me and makes me crazy.

I'm crying because I want to love and be loved and I have a beautiful daughter who is on Adderall and Prozac in the first grade.

I'm crying because you're my Daddy and I should be able to cry to you when I'm overwhelmed.

I managed to say some of that out loud and quench the tears before they really started and he seemed to get it. But who knows.

I shouldn't cry.

My Body is Not Yours

"I still care for you."

Another text from my ex-not-boyfriend.

I had asked that he take a picture of me down from a social media site and that started yet another back and forth text conversation that resulted in it being even more clear that I'm not a person to him.

His version of care boils down to "I liked having sex with you, but only in ways that suit my needs and only on my time."

I don't have the time or energy for that shit.

I'm not looking for Prince Charming. I'm not even looking for monogamy. But when someone says they care for me, they should actually mean they care for ME, not just what I can do for them.

Obligatory "Year in Review"

I suck at the holidays.

I look toward Thanksgiving with trepidation, Christmas with dread, and the New Year with inevitability.

I have a six-year-old Wildflower Child who LOVES the holidays and therefore, I have to keep my shit together so she continues to love the holidays. Even though all the sugar and late nights and stimulation made her into a possessed demon from hell that I didn't recognize, I still want her to have fond memories (hopefully not including being physically removed from Christmas celebrations at a family member's house for throwing a tantrum after mis-reading gift tags).

Anyway, the holidays have passed and now people are talking about the New Year coming and the old year past and what was great and what was pure torture and I started to think about how much I have gotten through this year.

2015 started out with reconnecting with someone deeply important to me which has been such a joy to have back in my life.

I tried out some interesting dating scenarios that ultimately revealed my new found ability to sniff out a total asshole before marrying him (that was never on the table, just saying, I'm getting quicker at the realization of douchebaggery). I also learned some things about a subculture that claims to be quite egalitarian and is in truth unbelievably sexist. There might be an essay in that at some point.

I had two almost cancer scares. Breast and uterine. I had a battery of incredibly invasive tests, some of which were very painful. All of which resulted in many lost hours of sleep. I was also tested for virtually every tick borne disease, diabetes and thyroid function. Twice. 'Cause you know, apparently I'm perfectly healthy for feeling like shit. Good thing I don't have any problem getting blood drawn, except for my tiny veins and low blood pressure.

I got more tattoos, and tattoos I had already have been touched up.

Gave up my lip stud.

Got my mother addicted to Doctor Who.

Decided Peter Capaldi is just killing it as the Doctor and am collecting his costume pieces. Because, #Geek.

I had a total laparoscopic hysterectomy. I still have my ovaries, but my vagina ends where my cervix used to be, and all my abdominal organs got shifted around a bit. So I had to stop corset training for a while and now I have to work back to where I was, and I also have to exercise more.

Started investigating the probability that Wildflower Child has ADHD.

Gave up on dating for now at least.

Adopted a dog!

Got said dog allergy testing and shots, and TWO orthopedic knee braces.

Cuddled my child and my dog a lot, but not enough.

Watched "Jessica Jones" on Netflix all the way through, twice.

Spent a week in Wildwood NJ. (This list isn't even remotely in order.)

Bought two cool niche card games and have no one to play them with.

Spent way too much money on makeup. And don't feel at all badly about that.

Started growing my hair out.

Did not figure out what I want to do with my life.

So that was 2015. Will be interesting to see what happens in 2016.