Contentment

When I woke up on July 17, 2022, I didn’t expect the day I experienced.  I planned to post a Mental Health Monday blog about turning 30.  I decided to postpone that and the one you are reading was written a couple hours before July 18, 2022, a few hours before I plan to post the blog for the world to see. 

I’ve been challenging myself to journal more.  My brain houses more thoughts at one time than one can fathom.  When I write them down, I can physically feel them melt out of my brain onto the paper.  The current journal I am using has so many hilarious, random, questionable, lovely, and dark thoughts.  Instead of writing about today in my journal (although I’ll likely do that as well) I decided to turn to my Mental Health Monday blog. 

At church this morning, the pastor spoke about contentment.  He stated many of us are discontent because we compare our lives to those around us.  We focus on what we don’t have instead of focusing on what’s in front of us.  He stated if you live with discontentment, you will always feel as if you never have enough. 

Unfortunately, about an hour before church, I found myself scrolling social media.  This led to crying as I sat alone at church, texting numerous friends for support, and a text to my therapist. 

In February of 2022, I received a text from my son’s father stating he and his girlfriend were expecting a child.  They already had a name picked out and apparently, she was far enough along to know the gender.  I knew when our relationship ended a few years prior that he was likely to date again, potentially have another child, and we would simply be coparents.  However, hearing that information still stung. 

I’m ashamed to admit this fact… I’ve been checking social media almost once a day waiting to see if anyone mentioned the baby’s arrival.  I went searching for the information so the shock of seeing it shouldn’t have catapulted me into unexpected feelings. 

Today was the day I finally found a post confirming that my son officially has a half-brother. 

I immediately texted my mom, friends, and therapist.  I could feel my heart attempting to escape my body.  I felt tingles in all my limbs.  My body clearly did not appreciate this news. 

I would like to write that I’m not jealous.  I would like to write that I’m not devastated.  I would like to write that I’m not angry.  I would like to write that I’m happy for him and his girlfriend.  However, this is Mental Health Monday, and I am here to share the real feelings many of us are too afraid to share.

Part of me is jealous that my son’s father moved on and has another child.  Part of me is devastated that we were not able to make it work and be the happy family my son deserves.  Part of me is angry at him for so many things.  I hope they’re amazing parents for this innocent little human, but I am not happy for them right now.  They’ve been dating for a while, and I have also dated someone since our relationship ended but there’s just something about the fantasy of being a family being completely burst that hit me hard today.

It didn’t help that I organized my journals last night.  Like I mentioned, I am challenging myself to write more so I needed to pick the next journal since the current one is only a few pages from being filled.  I pulled out one I knew I had written in a while back.  It’s currently covered in miscellaneous stickers from my sticker filing cabinet.  Prior to the stickers, the journal cover held five precious pictures of my son and his father.  I bought the journal from Shutterfly back in 2018.  I felt like writing in it in that state would confuse my son considering his dad is not around much.  The journal has been sandwiched between others for years, so it never really bothered me before.  It was one of those “out of sight, out of mind” situations. 

I turned to see what the last page in the journal was about.  It is dated 8/15/19.  I clearly note that this would be the last day writing in the journal (past Ariel obviously didn’t think about using stickers).  Here’s a vulnerable quote that I am happy to share with y’all: “I don’t want to see (insert name here) with anyone else.  That would rip me to shreds.  Seeing him choose someone else.  Have children with someone else.  That would kill me.  I really wanted him to choose us.”

Oof.

I need a moment.

Ok.

 I’ve played enough of my emotional support phone game. 

It’s called Fill The Blocks and it’s wonderful, in case you need an emotional support phone game.

Anyways…

Why in the world did the universe or God or whoever think that yesterday was the time for me to read that and then for today to be the day I find out the baby is here? 

Now, I’m not in the place I was in August of 2019.  I started therapy in September of 2019 and have been going ever since, so that is a HUGE reason.  I’m not ripped to shreds.  This news hasn’t killed me.  However, I’m not jumping for joy over here.  It’s news that makes me discontent.  It’s news that makes me compare his life to mine. 

I truly wanted to marry this man.  I wanted to be the stable family for my son that my parents didn’t provide for me.  I didn’t want my son to have a stepmother after twenty plus years of hating mine (that’s a story for another day).  I’m jealous that I’m alone and he’s created a new family.  I’m frustrated that I turned 30 this month and feel as if I’m nowhere near the life I wanted 12 years ago when I first laid eyes on him.   

 I needed church today.  I needed to hear that “Comparison is stupid.”  I needed to sit and have tears slide down my cheeks in the place where judgement isn’t supposed to occur. 

I needed to feel.  I’ve been angry since 2019 and I haven’t been able to rid myself of that feeling.  I haven’t been able to get rid of the discontentment.  I feel a bit closer to banishing those feelings after church today.  Just in case, I did bump up my weekly therapy a couple days.

I know these feelings will pass.  I know I’ll love seeing my son be a big brother (I’m 99% positive he will be my only one).  I know I can still find love again.  I have an amazing four-year-old who keeps me on my toes.  I am pursuing my love of writing by continuing this blog and working on my novel.  I adore the youth and families I work with.  My apartment is perfect.  I am working on focusing on what I have in front of me instead of what I lost and what I feel I’m lacking. 

We are struggling with so much every day.  I am here to be an advocate for mental health and helping others.  If you’re struggling with an internal battle, just know, I am here with you!  My website/blog and social media page are safe places!  Share your dreams and your struggles.  Life isn’t easy but you’re doing great!