I blast the blinking cursor of doom. These days I am just not sure what to write about. Like most bloggers, I started this blog to connect to other people in my new position of a new mom and found myself in this great untainted territory. My words meant something to me and that was all that mattered. Now, well, I am not so sure. When I write about my current situation, I get myself more worked up, I get very emotional and I am not sure it is cathartic or torment.
I want to write about silly, non-meaningful things but sometimes I just don't have the heart to do so. It has my mind and heart wondering if my words mean anything anymore. This agony of the past 2 years of losing everything except my family has taken its toll. The pain and unrelenting bad luck can be seen on my face, on my husband's face on our marriage, on our lives. I can't believe we have ended up here with no idea what to do next. No idea where to go, when we will land jobs, where my kids will go to school or how to pay our bills. Writing about our lack of, well, everything, has not been helpful to me. It makes me realize more how tired I am of being on the losing end of opportunity, what a terrible parent I think I am and how hard it is going to be to dig back out of this hole. It makes me sick to my stomach on a daily basis.
I wonder if my hopes, faith and dreams don't make any difference, than just what value do my words have?
These days I am just not sure what to write about. Like most bloggers, I started this blog to connect to other people in my new position of a new mom and found myself in this great untainted territory.
My words meant something to me and that was all that mattered.
Now, well, I am not so sure. When I write about my current situation, I get myself more worked up, I get very emotional and I am not sure it is cathartic or torment.
I want to write about silly, non-meaningful things but sometimes I just don't have the heart to do so. It has my mind and heart wondering if my words mean anything anymore. This agony of the past 2 years of losing everything except my family has taken its toll.
The pain and unrelenting bad luck can be seen on my face, on my husband's face on our marriage, on our lives. I can't believe we have ended up here with no idea what to do next.
No idea where to go, when we will land jobs, where my kids will go to school or how to pay our bills.
Writing about our lack of, well, everything, has not been helpful to me. It makes me realize more how tired I am of being on the losing end of opportunity, what a terrible parent I think I am and how hard it is going to be to dig back out of this hole.
It makes me sick to my stomach on a daily basis.
I wonder if my hopes, faith and dreams don't make any difference, than just what value do my words have?