Confronting Ourselves

Recently, I've had to confront myself--and it's not the first time, you've heard me bring it up a few times this year already--and it definitely hasn't been easy.

I worked hard, back in April, to acquire a good-paying, part-time job working from home that was going to be all that and a box of chocolate. After about three months, I've come to realize that it wasn't even one piece of chocolate. On the outset, it seemed perfect. I would make nearly what I made working full-time at my previous job after taxes and deductions, I would be there for the kids when they needed me, I could work my own hours, and, most importantly, I could spend plenty of time working on my writing as well.

So what was it really like? Well, between never-ending dirty laundry, a messy house, one child constantly chanting "mommy mommy mommy" while watching loud television, and not being to live up to the job's expectations, I realized quickly that it wasn't working out the way I had hoped. I wasn't working much, and I sure wasn't writing much. Combine that with the money I wasn't making, the problems that that caused, and depression started to settle right in.

I guess it's that feeling of hopelessness that we moms can succumb to during the lean times. I know the lean all too well. I spent many years of my adult life being near poverty or in poverty that when I got myself out of that hole a few years back, I vowed never to return. The past few months has set me back and so I spent the last couple of weeks mired in depression and concerting thoughts.

Somewhere in all that I reminded myself of something. Lying in bed one morning willing myself to get up, my brain told me, "Get your ass out of this bed! You've dealt with so much worse, and you've lived so much harder. Instead of whining about something about it!" I immediately thanked myself, got out of bed, and got busy.

I had renewed vigor and a sense of hope, but I had another demon to wrestle with: myself. When I first moved here, I was 30 years old and filled with a renewed sense of hope for a promising future (after fleeing a bad relationship): one that included my son and myself. I found myself in a string of jobs where I got treated poorly and so I would quit without warning to move onto what I hoped would be better. Years later, I became bitter about jobs, and so had a poor attitude about working any. Which made the work-from-home thing all the more painful.

I decided that not only did I need a career change, but I really needed a better attitude. I know I need to look towards my future, and that vision needs to be positive: after all, I've preached that enough times myself.
So, that's what I've done. I found myself a decent paying job, with good hours, and some really good benefits (something that in this day and age cannot be overlooked).

Now, I know that every day is not going to be perfect, but I can take comfort in the fact that I am employed, that I can make a decent life for myself and my kids, and I can once again look at the world through my 30-year-old eyes. I can also write, nothing will, or can, ever stop me from that.

Life is what you make of it. You can either choose to make it great, or you can choose to let it be the same. The choice is yours. I know which choice I've made, and it's wasn't just the choice to change my career path either. Sometimes, the choice we make to change our lives for the better starts from within.

I hope you have the greatest of days! I have another post coming soon about a day trip the kids and I took to our state's capitol.

Much love,



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