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Lord, give me the strength, PLEASE!!!

It’s like a scene out of Jaws, where you see the peaceful water, and me, chilling on a water raft or something. Then you hear the music and there I am, happy as a clam, sipping my drink, hands and feet in the water. The music gets louder, faster…I look around, sensing something, then I just go back to happy go lucky. My raft gets bumped, I look around, bewildered, and then another bump, I look over the side of the raft and then, BOOM, WHAM, BAM!!!! The damn shark jumps out the water and eats my face off! There’s blood, splashing and then nothing. I am gone and the raft has sunk.

That’s how it feels, (to me at least) when I get these trigger moments that pop up from time to time dealing with the ex-husband. And they don’t even have to be triggers coming directly from him! I saw something on FB today, someone was praising him for being a “goofy” father and being able to have fun and I was like, FUCK YOU! That’s all he’s good for. F-U-N. Not doing homework, not helping when they are sick, or reading to them or anything else. Just F-U-N. My oldest is getting great grades and it’s not because of FUN. It’s because I bust my tired, exhausted ass after work everyday, to help her. To study with her. My kids are in living in a clean house because I bust my ass to clean it. They eat everyday because I bust my ass to cook or at least get them something to eat.

And I bust my ass by going to work to provide for them everything they need, even when I don’t want to go to work. And the author of the page was also stating how my ex is raising beautiful, black women, and I’m like, “he ain’t doing shit!” And he isn’t! I AM RAISING BEAUTIFUL BLACK WOMEN! I am the one talking to them about morals and integrity and character! He is there, getting them every other weekend, and NOT for the full amount of time he’s supposed to, because his job or his slut gf doesn’t allow him to, all of a sudden. And for those 2 days, he gets all the glory.

I just really want to cry. I screamed my head off in my car. I screamed and yelled at the Lord because it just feels so unfair. He doesn’t do shit for them. Won’t even call them anymore, but he’s “Goofy Daddy” and that’s what matters, right? Keep the father in the kids life, right? For fucking what?! He ain’t about shit, he ain’t doing shit. Once upon a time, before his dick entered that cunt (pun fucking intended) he was a good person and he did right by his kids and us. Now, he’s a total asshole, dick-head. But someone felt the need to put him on FB and give him all kinds of praises. He comes out looking like roses and I’m sick of it!

I even messaged the person that wrote the piece. I had to tell them the truth about the person they are glorifying. I didn’t put it out there, like some bitter women would do. My bitterness is still classy and kept in check. But I had to let them know.

I’ve been praying all morning. I’m so sick of hurting and feeling this pain. I didn’t cry, but the hurt is still there. I just wish God would just come and heal me completely, and not in small doses. It sucks. There was another two trigger moments this week, but I prayed through it. I guess the enemy really wanted to get under my skin, so here we are. I got angry, but not retardededly (I know that’s not a word, trust me).

I don’t understand how or why, and I’m tired of asking these questions to God because it feels like He’s not listening. I feel sometimes like my ex “won”. Won what? IDK, but I don’t feel like God is avenging me for what the ex did to us, and I feel like his life is just putting along nicely. No worries. Girl of his dreams in his life, living in his gf’s mother’s house, allegedly not paying any rent and only utilities, going to parties all the time, taking care of only ONE kid that’s not even his, while I sit here, struggling to stay awake to play and do HW with my kids, exhausted and not wanting to move sometimes. Trying to give them attention and love without taking out my frustrations on them.

No friends where I live, no man in my life to tell me he loves me, to comfort me, to hug me, kiss me, love me. No man for me to depend on, to pass the baton of responsibility too. It’s just me.

I know God will prevail. I know He will provide. I know He will make a way. I know all of this. I am still a human and I am still hurting from this trivial divorce that was forced upon me. I wasn’t the best wife, but I damn sure didn’t deserve this.

And he ain’t no fucking father of the year, I can tell ya that. Goofy ass muthafucker….

BTW, the only thing different from that Jaws scene is the fact that I somehow get my face back, and I heave myself back onto the raft and enjoy my drink, the sun and my happy-go-lucky moments. Trigger after trigger, I get through and past them. I just hate when they come. I know one day those triggers will no longer be sharks, but goldfish and I’ll just push them aside. Or pick it up and drown it in my drink, eh…whichever. I just know they won’t be bothering me anymore.

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