Diary of a Broken Heart

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In an effort to get myself writing on a daily basis again, I have decided to write in spite of the negativity I’m facing right now.  For years I have been searching for ‘the right time’ to write: I didn’t want to focus too much on writing when I was underemployed after my college graduation. I was focusing on my photography and trying to start a life where I could raise my kids comfortably.  There is no guarantee of ‘making it’ in any field, so I would focus my attention on being able to provide first, write after.

I don’t receive child support for any of my children, including from my ex-husband who is in the U.S. Army.  Even though I have a court order saying that he should, and according to DFAS he should be, but the rep I last spoke with said they’re not going to take the money out of his account because he already has a garnishment for the child he created while we were married. Her mom, being the smart one in this whole situation, filed her suit with him when she was still pregnant. Within a year after her daughter’s birth, she was receiving $600/month and sitting pretty for the next 13 years. My son, who was exactly two weeks old when his sister was conceived, will be 14 next month. 


Since leaving my ex I have accomplished many things he said I would never do: I have both my associate and bachelors degrees, I’ve been to India, the White House, and have found full-time employment in my field of work after college. All as a single mother of three without.  Time after time I hear from people that they don’t know where I get the strength to overcome the things I’ve been through. I don’t really have a support system. I guess it’s just perseverance and determination that have pushed and fueled me throughout the last eleven years since I left. But I’m tired. At this point, I need a mental break. I thought I’d have one when I moved out of the toxic environment of my mother’s house, but it seems a few chinks in the plan have unraveled themselves at the most inopportune time I could have ever faced, and I don’t know what else to do but write again.

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