Rose Miller 
It was dawn, I was getting up to feed my baby. I stepped out into the kitchen and saw the mess of dishes stacked in the sink, counters, and stove. The high of last night’s party came crashing down into an overwhelming exhaustion.
I rushed back to feed my crying baby, As I did so I noticed a message from my husband on my phone. It was time-stamped; 5 AM, just 20 minutes ago.
Thank you for an amazing party, everyone was impressed. I love you so much and I couldn’t have done it without you. I stayed up all night organizing the leftover food in the fridge. I would really appreciate it if you could let me sleep late.
I stared at the screen in disbelief. He slept while I prepared for the party, he slept while I set up the party and now he sleeps while I clean up from the party and this was his party. I felt angry. He could have gone to sleep, the food could wait, it’s cold out, it wasn’t that important and if it was, why does it take four hours to put it away? Why would such a nice message make me angry?
I needed to sleep, but I needed to care for my 6 kids. I needed help cleaning up from the catering I did for his party, but I couldn’t wake him. I needed money to shop for groceries, but I had none. I needed to rewash the laundry because the clothes I hand-washed last night smelled moldy again and no one responded yet to my husband’s post about giving away a working washing machine. Those were the immediate pressing issues.
The day slowly progressed, I slowly took action with my energy and mood depleted. I wiped away tears as I wiped down the table. It wasn’t just today that needed help. It was tomorrow, and the day after, and the day after that.
I needed my kids back in school because they were sitting home for 6 months now. I needed my husband to find a job, not sleep all day. I couldn’t keep up the heavy burden of the household without support any longer. Most importantly, I needed my mothe,r but I couldn’t speak to her. I had made that choice weeks before when I chose him over her for the sake of the kids. My job is to protect them and a threat from child protective services is no joke. I didn’t believe she made the threat but my husband said we couldn’t take a chance.
My daughter was spending the weekend with her grandparents. I pulled up in front of the house and walked my daughter inside. My mother-in-law welcomed us. My daughter ran off carefree as I tried with everything I had to hold it together, sucking in air from my mouth trying not to cry. My mother-in-law asked me how I was doing. Such an innocent question with an overwhelming response. The tears began to roll as I whispered, “I can’t do it anymore.”
She came toward me with her arms wide open and said, “I know.”
I collapsed onto the floor, sobbing hysterically. She sat down with me, asking how she can help. “You can’t.” I shook my head. I rambled on about all the changes I needed but couldn’t manage to make. “There’s something really wrong with me.”
“No no. Is that what he tells you?” She asked. I nodded. “He did this.” She pointed at the door. “He sleeps all day and dumps everything on you. I’m going to help you, you shouldn’t have to live this way.” She understood.
Terror ran through me, I stopped breathing for a moment. I just realized what I’ve done. I broke the silence. I sobbed again. “You can’t help me, he can’t know I spoke to you.”
“He’s my son, you think we don’t know who he is and what’s going on? I am not afraid of him.” She reassured me.
“But I am.” I whispered.
She looked right at me. “And that needs to change.”
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