This is the test and I’ve got to fucking manage it.
My stability has only ever been attached to necessity- somebody needing me and for 18 years my child did. After my 2nd suicide attempt when I wanted to go left and sideways and my son was too little still to appreciate my efforts somehow after being saved, I figured, I won’t think about me anymore…my motivation for rising went to… but my kid needs to eat so, get up, bitch . My kid needs a bed and a room and a home and all of the things that I didn’t have so I’m too busy to be melancholy. I’m too responsible to die knowing and leaving him with nothing when he didn’t ask to be born. So I hustled. I focused up.
Of course I did stupid, shit, I’ve been blogging about it all for six years, but I found this writing tool that I still use, to help me, help myself.
As long as I could write it down and get it out, I was good. I could keep going. But now, he’s gone. I raised him well enough that he could leave. I know 30 year olds who haven’t even attempted it.
And the tether, which will always be there, is loosened though. I don’t have to cook dinner and I don’t have to talk to people and I don’t have to be presentable and I don’t have to shower or work or even live anymore.
But I’m old enough now to know that this is just a fucking test.
I texted the monster goodbye last night, hoping of course that he would want to come kiss me goodbye but I fell asleep and didn’t see his response until 5 AM this morning. He said, “Be Well, Pixie.”
I used to handcuff this dude every time I saw him and that’s his goodbye?
Be Well.
So no, I don’t have to worry as much about my boy anymore, he is equipped and living his life on wobbly knees and venturing out on his own. And maybe that means that I can just as easily, lay down on my bed and never get out of it again.
But it’s a test, see?
When I drive to California in a few days, all own my own, I have to be the woman that I want to be. I get to. I get to love on myself and do for myself and think about myself in positive ways. I’m safe and I am okay and I can parent myself.
Be Well.
The monster is right.
I know that this is just a test.
The loneliness is just a passing cloud. So I watched a funny video. The nervousness is just a drizzling rain shower. So I reached out online and asked for some cheer from other humans. The fear is actually excitement. My coworkers wished me love and luck and safe travels. I can let the fear be excitement.
Feel it but don’t sit down in it.
I still owe my son.
I still owe him a chance to see what the fuck I can do when I only have to worry about myself. I was pretty bad ass considering having to worry about two whole ass people for nearly 2 decades. I made shit happen for him that no one would believe. What amazing shit can I figure out how to do when the mouths I need to feed is cut in half? I need him to see me shine and provide hope and who knows when he’ll need a couple of nickels soon, all kids eventually do.
I’m gonna ace it this time.
I’m gonna ace it.

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