My Kid, My Therapist – How A Single Mom Copes

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It’s that time of the week again. The kids are all leaving for the day and going to their dad to celebrate with him his 40th birthday. I heard from my eldest daughter that they’re going to a 5-star buffet restaurant which is posh and elite. I can’t afford that. Shook; I can’t even afford a therapist to help me cope with my depression, stress, and anxiety. But it’s okay. I survived the dark days, and I know I will get through any other day in my life because I am strong. In my heart, I know, I will make it.

We are separated after 20 years of marriage. And yes, I guess, this is how it goes. This is how it’s going to be from now on, and there will be times when the kids are with him. I will be all alone. There will be times wherein he will be all alone, which I think his new wife likes because the kids are “annoying,” according to her. Of course, they are irritating brats! Each of them has ME in their being – they should be annoying, at least! That bish! What does she know about raising and rearing kids, when she is a kid herself, huh? Twenty-seven years old and a supermarket model, pfft! What a joke!

Anyway, my eldest is twenty and has a mouth. She is the epitome of a loud woman – no matter what I do, she doesn’t listen to my advice about her changing that terrible public behavior. I guess, sometimes, it works for our favor when certain bishes need to be put in their place. But despite that, I love her. I’m her mom.

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The second born is the quiet type, but when she speaks, all hell breaks loose with depth. She will use Aristotle, Socrates, and even Sun Tzu on you. I don’t mess with her. It’s not that I am afraid of my daughter or anything like that. This girl is an intellectual, and she won’t say much until the right time, place, and situation calls for it. When she does, it will surely hit you to the bone. But even with her style, I love her. I’m her mom.

Who is the most annoying? Oh, it’s my third child, thirteen years old and just became a full-fledged woman. Her mouth is nonstop. Talking, complaining, and getting angry, worrying, talking, talking, and more talking, then complaining again, fighting some more and everything else – that’s how she is all day and night. But even with that, I love her. I’m her mom.

My fourth child is unique. He has ASD or Autism Spectrum Disorder; more like hyper, inattentive, and lacks focus. I will understand if she says that our only son is annoying because he can be like that. I can grasp it all, though since he has a behavioral disorder. The new wife cannot accept that, apparently, and all she ever does is say – “Oh, Michael. Your kids are so annoying.” But even with my boy having ASD, I love him. I’m his mom.

The youngest is a darling to me. She is sweet and loving, although, at times, she’s not the perfect little angel, toddlers are like that. If you’re a mother, you will understand. I think the bish couldn’t penetrate to my youngest because she doesn’t try and so, she calls her annoying. But it doesn’t matter. I love her. I’m her mom.

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I don’t mean to badmouth his new wife. She is young and full of herself, and that’s the truth. Her beauty and youth have destroyed our family and look where it got me. Look where it got my kids. They are all hurting, and I am hurting, too, but there is no going back anymore. No matter how hard I try to convince myself that he can take on many wives and it is okay that he has another, I can’t find in myself to love him again. Respect is lost, and love is slowly dying. It cannot be mended no matter how hard I try to forgive and forget.

So, yes. It’s that time of the week again. They are with him and his new wife. She will again call my children annoying and all the other shallow adjectives that her tiny brain can fathom. It’s getting lonely when the kids are not around because I am their mom. I am used to all the craziness and the noise. If they are not here, I look for them. I miss them, even with their mouths all wide, shouting at each other, world wars every single day, and all the chaos – I still long for them when they’re not with me.

Do you know why I don’t go to therapy? I can’t afford it is one of the reasons, but the major one is that my kids help me cope. Assisting them, understanding them, and loving them makes me whole. I am their mom, and it will be like that forever, just like that.

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