Chaos Digitized

So I'm tired.  This isn't exactly a new development, of course. I'm being mom.  He's being dad - to just his son. My girls are suffering. But mom's trying to keep a brave face because... they need me. He's dragging feet on leaving.  He's judging my parenting.  I'm drained y'all- this is too goddamn much. I want to feel better. I want to be told I'm pretty and get smacked on the ass for no reason (by someone I have an affection for - please no randos... unless you're cute... maybe a daddy type...? I digress...) I want to be seen.  like truly seen.... Not just my eyes. Not my dimples. Not my chest... my soul. That's where it hurts. mainly though... I just need to recharge.  My kids are mostly enough, but I need to recharge for their benefit as well as my own. Now... it's time for me to play Pollyanna. The pain. The hurt. The torn to shreds feeling in my soul? It confirms I have a soul. Hello there, little broken soul, yo...

It's fucking 3:30 am. I can't sleep. I've tried NSFW methods.  PG methods. It's not working. Soothing sounds on my headphones generally conks me out. Tonight, though?  Nuh uh.  It cannot drown out the noise of how the dude is giving up his daughters.   How much damage he's doing to them because his son is what he's always wanted.  His son is what he's always prayed for. So his daughters' hearts get broken with every broken promise.  With every time his son's mother,  whom he swears he's not "with" talks, him into time with her or attention to her when he's supposed to be doing something with his kids or when they're trying to just fucking talk to him. I see myself in them.  My own wounds and years of damages. I desperately want to save them the heartbreak, but if I point out what he's doing, I break the agreement that he still won't sign.  And I potentially project my own experience on my daughters who still hav...