I think I’ll throw myself a pity party

You know, I try. I work full time. I’m a mother, wife, sister, aunt, and daughter. I consider myself a damn good employee. Familiar roles consist of chauffeur, chef, and cheerleader. Occasionally, I get asked to be a confidante as well. I try. I really do.

Then why do I feel like such a failure? I’ve come to the conclusion that I simply can’t do everything alone and being the only income in a house full of I wants and I needs and I’m not going to give anything ups, has driven me to mounting frustration and tears that fall without warning.

Having a husband that only gets occasional work just doesn’t cut it. I’ve watched our savings account fall by the thousands. We started out the year a little rough, but things picked up a bit and we were doing all right. Now….well, let’s just say it’s not going to be a very good Christmas.

Why is it always about money? That’s what it boils down to in the end. My paycheck is barely enough to keep our heads above water, and even so, once the bills are paid, there’s not enough for groceries. I can’t NOT pay the bills, but I also can’t seem to get it through these people’s heads that they are going to need to give up something. Instead of eating two sandwiches, you might have to eat one with a little less on it.

I hate feeling like this, like I can’t support my own family.

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