#write.as

It's 6 days before Christmas, and I feel sick; I feel mentally stuck. Every year, I dread Christmas; it feels like a constant battle to try and reach the impossible. Every year I say to myself, This is the last year I'm unorganised and yet we are here again. I don't get it, I'm trying everything to make my finances change, and yet they seem worse this year. I've been praying to god and ohhh how one magical day he came through. I thought ohh my gosh, this is it, I'm going to be fine for Christmas, my daughter is going to get what she wants and then 27 sales later... the excitement. £100 was then received from a stranger at church. I am so grateful for this and it helped me go see my daughter. I put all the money I had back into the business so I could generate more sales. Maybe I wasn't supposed to do that? Maybe I was just supposed to keep what I had earned, but nope, I went full out. I even have a website designed now. We always do this, we get so excited at seeing the results, and we go full steam ahead. I thought this was it, though I thought finally I could breathe, and then this year that I decided not to go back to work and finally believe in myself that everything would change, but I'm losing hope. I don't know what to do. My daughter is so excited about this phone she wants, and I can't bear to let her down anymore. I keep hearing not what she wants but what she needs. It keeps echoing in my mind, but I'm refusing to listen because I can't face her face with the look of mum has let me down again when all I want to do is give her the world. I feel so tired of trying to always do better, trying to always be better and yet still be where I am. I feel like I've been trying to chase a life that I know is mine, yet feels so far away. It's like I'm trying to tear a life back that could have been mine that now I believe should be mine, but I'm still here. Still in this bedroom of my mum's house at 33 years old with an 11-year-old daughter who lives 3 hours away, and all I want to do is make it back to her, but it just feels like the harder I try, the further away it feels. I've been dreaming, romanticising about a life I can really feel when I close my eyes and pretend. My daughter and I are dancing in the kitchen of a house I can fully provide for. Laughing, smiling, dancing as we do now, only we are in a safe place that I've created, a place that is lit up with candles and the smell of cinnamon and baked cookies... yes, baked cookies! There is music playing softly, and my daughter looks so happy, and my heart is so full just seeing her smile. All our basic needs are cared for, and I don't have to worry because that version of me is good with money, she takes care of it, and she knows how it works and the value of it and all the beautiful tools it can provide. God, I can't do another Christmas like this, it's too painful, my nervous system wants to rest, but my mind what letting me try to solve a problem I don't know how to solve. I hear just let go, just surrender, but what if... what if I leave it too long? I can't tell her on Christmas day, she would be devastated, I just can't do it to her. I remember her birthday. I struggled to gather the money to see her, but I managed to do it the day before, and I had no presents for her. She was so angry, but she didn't show it. She was tough, and we played, and we laughed, but weeks later, she showed me her pain through creation. She showed me how disappointed and hurt she was through this cute media thing where she talks over, and she expressed herself through that. It was the worst pain I've felt as a mother. To see your own daughter hurt because of you not being able to provide again. So here we are, 6 days before Christmas, and I've never felt so sad, but I still have this small amount of hope. This small amount of maybe it might work out, maybe I won't have to disappoint her again. Just maybe God will come through because I'm out of ideas.

Thoughts of today