I Didn’t Win The Battle….
I can’t make it work. It’s gotten to the point where it has to be one or the other. I sat down and I looked at the pros and cons of each company. The housekeeping business is bringing in money, albeit after taxes and my RIDICULOUS liability insurance payments, it’s not much. Only about $200 a week. I look at the future I have in that business and it scares me. I see my body breaking down, I see the damage done to my insides after years of being covered in chemicals, and like I said, it scares me. My kids only have one parent and I want to be healthy enough to be around for a long time. I also know that on a full schedule I’m not even making our financial ends meet. I’m working myself to the bone, I still can’t provide for my family, and I don’t see it getting any better.
Perfect, right? Except that I’m not getting paid to work on the not-for-profit.
I’ve spent the last several months juggling two careers, being a full time mother, spending hours of my week recovering my son from a suspected brain injury, teaching strip tease to survivors, and I can’t do it anymore. Especially when I have no family help. As I mentioned in my post “My Life Is Completely Unrealistic,” I have come to the obvious and yet somehow unnoticed realization that my life is unrealistic. I am not, nor should I be expected to be, Superwoman.
I’m at that pivotal fork in the road where I need to make a choice in which direction I want to go with my life. I’ve had so many of these life altering decision making moments in my life and my path is littered with the fallout of choosing the wrong ones. My walk has forever been made harder by the baggage that I carry with me from all the horrible “souvenirs” that I pick up at each hellish location of a wrong decision.
What does that look like for my family? Well, we will be in an even worse financial situation than we are now. I’ll be living mainly off of my meager tax refund and hoping that something, somehow, works out for me. Praying that funding comes in and that donations are given. I hate this. I hate jumping into a decision when I can’t see exactly where the road ahead of me is going. Call it a sign from God, call it fate, call it whatever you believe in, but so far every question that I’ve had has had an answer that points me in this direction, yet I’m still terrified.
Now I’m going back for them.
My ex used to tell me that nature is designed to weed out the weak. He was right. By all accounts, by every meaning of reason, I should not be here, yet I am. I am here because I am supposed to be. Nature didn’t weed me out because I am not weak. I was never weak, I was in training. This world has a purpose for me, it always has, and I was just being prepared for what that purpose was. I survived and I intend to go back for my fallen comrades. I am not the only one who deserves to have made it out alive. This not-for-profit will save them, it will give them the chance that I have fought so very hard for.
© Not My Shame To Bear 2014