Reasons You Shouldn’t Fuck Kids


Reason #64: We Hire Babysitters for Ourselves

As you know, I have spent several days crying about the prospect of being alone because my husband has an upcoming business trip. I asked five loved ones to stay with me, and heard five kind no’s. I understand.

My mom is here this weekend, and it affords me the safety of clearer thinking. In a bold move of patheticness, I hired a babysitter to “help me with my son” while the huz is away. Now, while it’s true that I welcome the help with my son, the whole thing is such a pathetic fucking lie. I need her here so that I am not crazy and acting like a panic-stricken loon the whole time the huz is away. I would always do right by my son, which to me would mean acting like everything is okay so that he doesn’t have to worry. With the help of the babysitter a few hours every night, things really can be okay so that neither of us has to worry. So in a way, her being here would make everything better and she would be helping me with my son.

See what I did there? I am rationalizing PAYING SOMEONE TO FUCKING BABYSIT ME in adulthood. Pathetic. This is why you shouldn’t fuck kids.

It’s funny. When I was bulimic, I was always reaching new lows. There were always emotional places that my bulimia would take me that I would think to myself “That’s it. I could not possibly get any lower than this.” But like all addictions, I would go even lower. Like the time I excused myself to throw up in the bathroom of a McDonald’s when my best friend knew exactly what I was doing. Humiliating and an all time low. Until the time my mom walked in on me throwing up. That time I knew for sure it would be my last new low. Until the times I started throwing up into containers in my locked bedroom so that the sound of retching into a toilet bowl of water wouldn’t be heard by my mother.

See what I mean? Our shit takes us to new lows. This here shit, hiring a babysitter so that I am not alone – that is a new humiliating low. Before I was married, I used to take time off of my life when I knew I was going to be alone. By that I mean that I would go sleep over friend’s houses, go back home to live with mom during that time, go to aunts and relatives, etc. But now I am ensconced in a life that would be very difficult for me to just leave, with my son and my work and what not. So, now I need others to take time off of their lives to come babysit mine.

In my life, I have only ever met one other person who was as afraid to be alone as I was. When I asked my girlfriend about this woman who was afraid to be alone, my girlfriend said this: “Oh, yeah, one time her roommates didn’t come home on time, and they didn’t tell her they were going to be late, and she totally freaked out on them. She yelled at them for a long time.”

Of course I said “But why is she so afraid to be alone?” She said, “Oh, a gang of men molested her when she was a little girl.” What was funny about it was that even though my girlfriend was a survivor and knew I was a survivor, she said it like it was an afterthought, like that happens every day. (Which it does.)

Maybe all of us survivors should set up some sort of free survivor babysitting service for each other. I mean, we all understand what it is to be afraid, and we would never humiliate each other about it, so if we called up the service and said “Yup, gonna be alone on this date to this date, need some company,” the service could say “No problem, we have at least three survivors on call in your area. She’ll be here by such and such time.”




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