The anniversary is over for another year and my children are safe and well. Other than that there’s not much to be thankful for. I’ve made a massive, whopping, irreversible mistake and hurt and lost a friend as a result. The losing a friend I can cope with, it is only fair punishment, and no more than I deserve. The hurting a friend, now that’s the bit that’s hard to live with. But that’s what happens. When you are flailing around blindly in the dark people close to you get hurt. When you are made up of spikes and bristles and jagged edges you cut people without even trying.
It brings me back to the million dollar question, and my children. Do I stay or do I go? Is a broken mother who hurts people without trying really less harmful than no mother at all? I just don’t know. What I do know is that pain and grief and hurt surround me like a black hole and I don’t want to take anyone with me. That I know for sure.
Prior to my fucking up I would have said my trip was going well. I got my first tattoo and by day’s end I will have scattered Daughter Number One’s ashes. I’ve answered some questions leaving room for no doubt. Baby Daddy has been looking after Daughter Number Two and now knows what that entails. He has struggled a bit over the last two days, so I know the honeymoon is well and truly over. Sons Number One and Two have been well looked after and have a further appreciation for each other and their sister and I. I’ve had time to myself.
Those things aren’t erased by my mistake but definitely dulled. So, where do I go from here? I honestly don’t know.