So I’ve got writer’s block. Sort of. I know why I can’t write. Usually writer’s block has no reason. But I figured out why I haven’t been able to write much and why it feels so forced when I do. Because I’m hiding secrets.
This was suppose to be a safe and secure place to write. I was suppose to be anonymous as I worked on my craft. It would be my journal to record the little things of motherhood I’m sure to forget. I didn’t expect much from it, but I made some really cool friends and felt like a community. Before school sucked my time, I was proud of my little following.
But the ex knows about the blog. Because I told him a couple of months after I started to show that I was working on my craft. He was quite proud. Then the divorce became nasty, and his lawyer tried to use this blog against me. That I was spreading libel about the ex, that I was “wasting” my time on the blog instead of getting a job. (Never mind that I was going to school and taking care of a toddler or that the ex and I agreed on this lifestyle over and over again.) And the ex has made several threats about exposing my “lies.” So it occurred to me that he could out me. More so than I already am.
If I’m honest, the worst part of being exposed is most of the posts are unedited, filled with grammar errors of someone who is writing too fast. I’m trying to secure a job as an English teacher. I hope to one day be a professional writer. I’m going to have to revisit my posts to edit them.
This blog was suppose to be only about motherhood. I didn’t write much about my marriage. I did write once and a while about my life. Sometimes I used the site like a think tank or therapy. I had no intention to turn my cute, little mommy blog into a break up blog.
But this divorce has soaked into all aspects of my life. I’m a single mom. I’m a divorced mom. I just went through a nasty divorce. I just got handed a gut-wrenching ruling, leaving me in poverty and debt and splitting custody 50% of the time with a man who chose for nearly 3 years to give me full custody. While I’m angry and hurt and trying to desperately figure out how I’m going to pull us out of this hole, I try very hard not to let on to the boys. They don’t need to know about all this stuff. (Well, at least, not until they are old enough and they ask.) I don’t feel like letting all this stuff into my blog.
But this is where I am. I’m fighting dragons, trying to survive. Trying to get a teaching job. Trying to figure out how to survive on income that was so drastically slashed. Trying to figure out how I’ll pay my parents back for funding my legal battle and whenever the ex decided not to pay. Trying to figure out how I’ll pay a huge IRS debt. Trying to figure out how to shield my boys from as much of the divorce as I can. Trying to figure out how I can coparent with someone who doesn’t know how or want to coparent. Trying to figure out how to let go of all this anger, hate, and hurt. Trying to be a good parent. Trying to not be bitter over the fact that the ex makes so much more than me and can give the kids so much more than I can. Trying to dig deep and find strength to carry on.
When I was a child, I was bullied. I still remember the fear of never knowing who was going to pick on me that day, what he/she would say, when I would be attacked. My mom maintains that some kids act like victims and therefore become victims. I maintain victim blaming is bullsh–. I’m not a victim. I don’t like being forced to be someone I’m not. I don’t like waiting for the next blow in fear. The next blow is coming, but I rather carry on with my life and carve out a piece of happiness and respect than wait around in fear for that next blow.