On being enough

I have a friend who is constant light. Always looking at the bright side, re-framing things into a positive light. I wish I could be her when I grow up. She is always spreading the message, “You are enough.” I want to believe it. I whisper it to myself when Logan says that for Christmas that he wishes for a magical unicorn, mom, dad, brother, and sister. A family that isn’t broken up. His words, not mine. I did this because sadness and feeling unloved was an everyday thing, and it wasn’t enough for me. So I made a decision. But I’m still sad, and scared, and I feel not enough.

I live in the house that I lived in when I was married. The kiddo loves the house. It is in foreclosure mediation. The ex had not paid on it for almost a year and a half before I found out about it when I asked for the divorce. I am working, and working, and hoping and praying they will allow me to stay. Not for me, but for my child, so he doesn’t have any more disruption in his life. My presence, our family in a new place I’m afraid would not be enough for him. I am scared. I wish I could be rich…. or win the lottery… or not have to worry that I won’t have a place to live. I don’t make enough money to remedy the situation by paying one lump sum to catch up. I don’t have enough. I’m not enough. What I am doing is not enough.

I feel like I can’t breathe. Every time I start to get ahead, I get knocked back. I am having a good day, and bam. The message that I am inadequate hits me again. I have people around me that say I am wonderful and more than they dreamed, and I want to believe them. I replay their words in my head when I feel stuck.

I don’t want to be stuck on the pity train. I don’t want to down slide into depression. I am fighting. I want to live each moment.  I know I am on my path, and that what I am doing is all I can do. I want to enjoy my life. I am on my way to getting there, little by little. And that is enough for me.