I am writing in the perspective of Rex the depressed father, Son and Ex Husband
I am so thankful for dad. After the whole screw up of Cheryl leaving me, he has been the light that has slowly guided me out of this dark cave, that I used to call home. Dad has taken Jeremy out, and Abby is hanging out with a friend. I decided to sit on the couch. Thought cloud my judgement. I wanted to die, I didn’t see my existence necessary. I couldn’t leave these kids, they are my source of fuel that keeps me going. I am going to start to clean up this life, that I have been given. I should have cherished it from the start, I should have been a better father. I look around this dump that I call home. Opening my eyes like a newborn puppy. I never realised how bad the mess is, I’ve been consumed in my own worries, not my children’s. The dishes, the clothes, the mess it screams at me to change. To clean my shit up and get my act together.
Clothes were strewn everywhere, food not only on the tables but aswell on the floors and ceiling. Plates, forks, knives, all the cooking essentials you need, are dirty in the sink. Stains on the carpet, that I don’t even know what therefrom. I yell “I’m going to get my shit together.” to anyone that would hear
Running outside I grab the huge green rubbish bin. Food was strewn on the ground. I viciously pull out the cleaning products grab some gloves and got to work. I picked all of the old food up and tossed it into the rubbish. The sink was full of hot soppy water filled with dirty dishes. 5 hours later, the carpet was stain-free, after my vigorous scrubbing. The dishes were all put away in there rightful place. Clothes where washes at put away nicely. I could see the floor. The doorbell rings
