I just have to say one thing.  I am so very tired of having crises of identity at least once or twice a year.  I find a job I like, move to a new place, get a new haircut, get a new pet, or do something else that seems – to me – new and different.  

Yet in reality I am repeating the same cycle over and over again.  Maybe all of those friends that walked away from me, often claiming that I am overly dramatic or mentally ill, are on to something.  There has to be some underlying reason for why I seem to have an inability to be successful in our current American culture.  

Some kind friends have told me that at least I am successful at parenting, but I can find a number of individuals who would disagree with that as well.  I recently told Zack that everything I do is for him, which is true.  I have given up dating, in part, because I thought it would make me a better mother.  Every job I have gotten and every move we have made were chosen because I thought they would be in the best interest of Zack.  I fought three brutal custody battles without giving up because I believed in my heart that I should be raising Zack…that God knew what He was doing when he chose me to be my boy’s mother. 

Was I wrong?  If I’m being completely honest with myself, and with everyone else, I’m certainly not financially stable in any sense of the phrase.  It has been years since I have been able to maintain an apartment, utilities, cell phone, and car note (yes, at one time I actually paid my own car note, though it is a very little known fact) without help from my mother.  Sure, I still want to believe that I’m the best person to raise Zack, but how can I rightfully make that claim when, at 31 years of age, I still don’t know what want to do “when I grow up?”