Member-only story
When Life Doesn’t Honor our Plans
An attempt NOT to hold my breath while juggling
I have written so much about my divorce. I want to be done writing about it. Every blasted day of the past three years, I have held my breath as I open my email every morning, hoping not to see an email from my lawyer or the accountant.
I hold my breath when I get the mail each day at the end of the long lane. Sometimes, I don’t make it to the mailbox. I just don’t have it in me.
Yesterday, the accountant called and left a message. I didn’t listen to it, nor did I call him back. Because I am sure it’s about my ex and his demands around claiming one or more of the girls, which he cannot. But he wants to. And sadly, everything he wants, he gets, these days. I don’t even want to engage in that conversation. I don’t have it in me.
Nowhere is safe. My home, my computer, or just my phone. It’s amazing all that can be taken from you by someone who has been dismissed from your life.
In the past two months, I have had to refinance the house, doubling my mortgage due to the court-ordered pay-off. I sit in my house, knowing I cannot afford it. I am a full-time student, working part-time running my music school, attempting to resurrect a business that COVID destroyed, raising children, and trying not to lose my shit on…
