20 Oct Keep your head above The Water

Parenting is tough. Single parenting is tougher. Single parenting while going through a crisis is a life-or-death situation. The hardest thing I have ever gone through has been single parenting through lack amid a separation marred with its brand of baggage. I nearly threw in the towel twice and ended my children’s life as well as mine. I intimately understand women who have done the same and gone through with the decision. It is not a decision one comes to flippantly. How long must you watch your children suffer? How long must you hang on in an unchanging situation? How long can you hold it together watching people enjoy and gloat over your pain? How much more can you carry without any form of support from your family? How much is enough? At that point death usually feels like a haven, a respite from it all because the will to live is usually at a negative.

I am in a better place mentally. Depression is no longer the primary emotion. I honestly do not know how I made it through to get here. I did not get enough emotional or any form of support from family or my former in-laws. Strangers came through for me more than anyone. I always say God carried me through it because He did. Even on the days we did not have food, yes, there were instances. He continuously came through in such a way that I stopped stressing over tomorrow. He showed me He’s got me covered. And He did. Ohh, He did. On my lowest days when I couldn’t lift my head to prepare any meal for my children. On the days we would go for up to 3 weeks without a bath because mommy couldn’t get out of the gloom pit. On the days we didn’t leave the house for upwards of a week because I did not have the energy to carry my build. He was there.

He was there when my gloom seeped into my Autistic daughter and made her meltdowns worse. He was there when I couldn’t soothe her but wept openly because I did not have the strength to carry the both of us. He was there when I lost weight because my children had to eat first as tomorrow was never guaranteed. He was there when I retreated from all human connections because they only caused more pain and I did not have it in me to deal with. He was there when I could not work to provide for my children. He was there when I had essential tremors and suffered a mental breakdown due to lack of sleep from chronic insomnia. He was there when we celebrated Christmas by ourselves while watching Christmas toons on the laptop. He was there when we lived off suitcases for 2 years as we were constantly on the move. God saved me. He saved my children.

Would I take any of this back? Absolutely. I wished my children did not have to go through that struggle with me. They deserve so much better. I do too. But it happened. It built my character, I am ridiculously stronger now. If I got through that, surely, what can’t I? I worry about my children though. I know how that experience built me but did it break them? My 7-year-old not yet verbal daughter can’t talk to me and tell me how she is and if there’s something I can do for her. I want so much to erase all the hurt but I don’t know how to. I know she will remember everything because she has an almost photographic memory. Will she remember all the people who openly rejected and chased us away? Will she remember all the times all I did was cry and how has that affected her? Will she remember me not being able to provide everything I previously used to?

My 2-year-old is not yet truly verbal because we stayed by ourselves for a long time. Her elder sister is non-verbal and I was going through my pain to constantly keep with her speech growth. Not that it is all on me, I do accept her speech delay is part of it. She is now getting comfortable being around men, she feared men for a very long time because she did not have one present in her life. I wonder what that did to her. What did growing up in our gloom do to her growing mental health? She did not get to interact with her peers to a maximum because we were mostly always indoors, I wonder if that may have worked against her. I feel for my children very much. It hurts knowing that I may have put them in a situation while I was running away from another situation. I do not regret walking away from my marriage, I just hurt knowing I could not save my children from the aftermath.

I speak a lot about God these days. I strive to please Him. I always tell Him, “I hope I make you proud.” It’s because of how far my children and I have come. And knowing how God likes to show up and show out, we still have a while to get to our destined greatness. Our story, His story through us, is a journey and not a destination. One I am glad to be on. I know I don’t always please Him, some things I say probably make Him cringe. Some of the things I do most likely make Him facepalm while shaking his head while some make Him talk a walk because ‘He can’t even’. I am not perfect. In my strive to please Him, I know I’m not…but, He still loves and accepts my children and I. And that is what I focus on, God’s love. I was never a believer before all this, funny that. I did not even believe in Jesus. Now? Ohh, Mama, Jesus is my Lord and personal savior. I trip and fall but I know my true North.

Adversity is meant to rock this boat that is life. It is vital in our lives; how else will you know if you can swim with sharks and still get to the shore? Be the hero(ine) in your own story. Own your story.