Yet another day…

As I sit here at my desk this morning, barely 6am, I find myself lost in thought.  I slept very little again last night, which is not unusual for me here so I imagine a nana nap will recharge me some by early afternoon.  If I remember right the last time I had more than 3 or 4 hours sleep at a time was when my youngest son was home for a visit some months ago now, and was tucked in his bed safe and sound.  A mother’s trait I guess always worrying about her kids, but he makes me feel safe too just knowing when he’s here.  I sip on my cup of tea, light a smoke and look around me.  The only sounds I hear surprisingly are birds chirping and singing outside my window.  Whilst their melody is pleasant enough it doesn’t detract from the fact that I am still here, still in this house, still in this town, still where I just don’t want to be.

I sigh, yet another day of loneliness and boredom ahead, and whilst there’s things I could or perhaps should be doing such as running the vaccy over the floors etc I find a reason to procrastinate.  Why bother with the floors when it’s far from a priority when I have no one else to notice them anyway or as usual any visitors to make an effort for.   I’ve been stuck living out here for 23 years now and I am so over it.  The love of my life passed almost 17yrs ago now, the kids have all grown up and moved away far from this town and now have kids of their own.  I don’t blame them, I’ve been yearning to move back to the coast for countless years but lack of funds prevents me from being able to rent anywhere else on my own.  I am grateful that I presently have a secure house for reasonable rent, but I simply have zero life here now.  We only moved out here essentially so my parents could embrace a loving relationship with their grandkids and so the kids could have their grandparents in their life too.  Once the kids grew up and moved on I at least had my parents to take care of and I embraced every moment I could with them whilst still craving for that loving relationship with my own grandkids, whom sadly I just never get to see as I just can’t afford the travel and sadly my kids make little to no effort to ever even visit me.  Now that my parents have sadly passed I feel so desperately empty and so trapped out here on my own.  My health has suffered and depression continually grabs a hold of me.  At my age now and with no chances of employment out here I feel so imprisoned and in a rut. I often find myself pondering if this is all I have for a life then I don’t know how long I can keep going, it’s a real struggle with no light in sight for me.

I had always questioned our decision to move out here, I loved living on the coast, however my mind would constantly wrestle with me that it would be selfish of me to deny both my parents and my kids that essential close grandparent relationship, one that I was never fortunate enough to have as a child.  So the sacrifice was made for them both, with sincere love, however still being stuck out here now just continues to eat away at me every minute of the unbearably long lonely days now like rust corroding what’s left of my life. 

This is not what I had envisioned for my life, my dreams of what I wished for were always put aside and sacrifices constantly made to ensure everyone else was always happy.  I’ve always been generous to a fault in any way to take care of others, but now I find myself with nothing left in the tank as such for me and no likelihood of anyone ever being there for me.   Friends of course express to me it’s time I invested in me now, do the things I always wanted to do, but I just don’t know how to do for me what I’m so used to doing for others. 

  

All I really long for is to move back to the coast and start a new life.  I need to get out of here and start living again. The rents where I need to be are too far out of my reach on the pittance that I barely survive on from week to week.  At my age and being on my own the security of a roof over my head is a vital issue.  My dream of owning my own home, my own secure sanctuary is just more and more unlikely the older I get.  My only hope at this point is to have an angel bless me with a win.  I dream of living on the beach, to inhale the fresh ocean breeze and drink in the sunshine.  Any waterfront place would ideal, I love the water and it would sure get me out of here.  I don’t go out, I don’t drink etc, my only vice is my smokes which will be gone soon too so the only thing I ever treat myself to is a few tickets each month in the lotteries in the hope of being blessed to score a win, after all my numbers have just as much chance as anyone else’s right?, only to date I’ve not won a sausage apart from a small win of a gift card once from another charity, but I hold onto hope for a #1, it’s all I have. 

I try to be optimistic looking over the brochures of the homes to win and positively prepare and plan my escape.   I’m so looking forward to a new life that I’ve decided that as soon as I get the phone call that I unquestionably ache for I’ll simply pack a bag of clothes and go.  I’d come back to this place only to pack up things I really want to hold onto such as photos etc and sell everything else, clean up and get out of here for good.  I envision this constantly in my dreams, like a needle stuck on a scratched record that just repeats the same song over and over.  Although I’d not really describe myself to be a spiritual person, even prayer for my sincerest wish is also done faithfully every day in my endeavor to invite or perhaps manifest a win to come.    I check the calendar and find it’s only a couple more sleeps till Christmas now, surely it’s my turn for my wish to be granted, even Santa knows I’ve been a good girl.  Who knows maybe one day I’ll be blogging from my new home and be in a much better frame of mind of real contentment.