I've always loved May in the past - I love spring, and May is usually when it all comes together. Plus, my birthday's in May, and I've always, always loved my birthday.
But this year? Blech. A totally crap month, starting with the monumental fuck-up that was 1 May (the day D officially "moved out" and started voicing his irrational crap to others, finally revealing just how far over the edge he's actually gone), and ending, more timidly, with today, in which I realised that not only is joint 50-50 custody going to break my heart, it's also going to cost me money - the girls are currently on my tax forms, giving me a reduction (a significant one at that). If they're only here half the time, it'll be as if I only have one daughter, so my taxes will go up, plus my child support (very low, almost insignificant monthly amount, but still) will be halved. I'm livid, and of course D doesn't give a shit one way or the other, persisting in his "we need to get lawyers" crap.
Oh, Lordy, what a crap year this has been!
Are there any pluses? Not many, that's for sure. My debts are mounting steadily (and not likely to diminish, given the above), I have no means to get away at all this summer, no matter how much I'd love to, need to. I'm terrified at the thought of having to give up my girls for 6 months of the year, especially to someone generally considered (not just by me, but by others, including a psychologist friend) to be mentally unstable. And, icing on the cake, D's mother, my much-disliked MIL, wants to come and stay - HERE because D's place is too small. I feel like screaming, but of course the cunning minx has spoken to C and L and they're delighted at the thought of having Mamie here. I'M GOING TO DIE (or possibly kill someone).
So. That's the end of May. I'm going to hope that June is better in some way (not sure how that could ever be possible, but I can't allow myself to give up hope completely), even if I'm really not that optimistic.
The only thing that keeps me going is work, which (when I manage to get my concentration up to scratch) allows me to "forget" the crap all around me. Oh yeah, and the fact that my beautiful Tom now spends every night on my bed, which makes me feel all warm and fuzzy inside.
Yesterday was Mothers' Day here in France, and I got sweet gifts from my girls (a pot holder, hand-painted, from C plus a beautiful card and message, and a hand-painted candle-holder from L, with an equally sweet card and poem), a somewhat surprising pink (not red, you note) rose from D (probably because he feels guilty about fucking up my birthday so badly) and a nice phone call from a friend. But I was melancholy, unsettled, unhappy.
When will life give me a break, people?