The consequences to my life keep coming. They keep coming and coming and coming. I just want to stick my head in the sand and wait for them to pass, but they aren't. It a few months it will be 4 years since I started trying to change my life. But today, May 22nd is the day I have been dreading. The day that I have been losing sleep over. The day of nightmares and countless panic attacks.
And then it got worse last night. Last night when I was snuggling Emma in our traditional couple of minutes before I kiss her goodnight, I felt her wrist. It felt like there was glue on there. I asked her what it was and she sat up straight in bed. That is when I knew it was bad. That is when I got up and turned on the light. And looked on her wrist. And saw the scratches. She has been cutting herself. She said she did it because Shawn, a boy in school, had said mean things that day. Had called her ugly. She cried and said she would never do it again and she knew it was stupid. I told her it was unacceptable. And I left. Maybe I should have held her and told her it would be OK. But I was mad. I was furious. I felt like it was something she had done for attention. I emailed Sam. I told him she needed counseling. He said he would pay for it. He was concerned. I was relieved he didn't get angry or blame me.
Today, right now, I should be calling to get her an appointment. But I can't get on the phone. I cant miss the call I am waiting for. I can't not answer it as soon as it comes. I am putting this phone call before my daughter. I know I shouldn't, but I can't seem to pick up the phone and try to clear it with her insurance, or call for a referral to a therapist. Wait on hold for an appointment with a therapist. Check my calendar and think even a day into the future. I can't do it. I can't do anything until I get this phone call.
Our tax representative is meeting with our auditor. 2009 is being audited. That is the last year Sam and I filed together. It is the year after we split, but before the divorce was final. The year I could hardly make it day to day. The year I had to find out who I am and who I want to be in the future. The year I walked on my own for the first time...ever really...since Sam and I got together in college. I only made $25,000 that year. Hardly enough to even pay the rent in my new house. Hardly enough to even say I was working. But we got a refund. I didn't think much of it, because we always got refunds...but the IRS did. I have always known my records sucked. Knew I was giving averages for numbers. Knew I wasn't being completely honest. But the accountant assured us that he did our taxes so carefully that the computer would never pull us for an audit. He assured us to not worry about it. And I needed that refund. When you only make $25,000 and have a huge car payment, tons of credit card bills, too high of rent, and multiple other expenses you can't afford, that $6K refund is a dream come true. I could blame the accountant. He didn't report was I reported to him. But I didn't look at my taxes, I just signed them. This is one more consequence to not being the best person I could be. I continue to pay the price.
My daughter, my financial security, everything is in turmoil. I have no sense of happiness. Hope. Stability. Nothing. I just want to stick my head in the sand and wait for it all to pass. But it is not passing. And my phone still hasn't rung. He said it would probably take an hour. He was feeling good about it. He was feeling positive. It has now been almost 3 hours. I need to know. I need to focus on Emma. But I can't pick up the phone. I can't move forward until I know how bad it is. And it could be bad. It could be really bad.
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