In debt. In despair.
I don't want to talk to my family or friends.
I don't want them to visit for Christmas.
It's just too much to try to keep up the front that my life isn't full of hurt and fear.
When I dreamed of another child, I thought things would be different.
More settled financially. No- we are drowning with two house payments and one tiny income and student loans.
A more loving partner- no, our relationship is worse than ever. I'm in a place that feels more than alone.
I keep trying to claw my way out of despair. My faith. My will. My survival instinct. They should all be stronger. I should be able to beat this. The fact that I am just hanging on, with the waves crashing over me, just makes it worse.
I'm fighting so hard to be a good mother. To keep it in. But the cracks are there, and out trickles the misery, the fear, the anxiety.
I haven't been myself in a long time. The relationship broke so badly in 2008, and I don't think it's ever really healed, despite so many attempts. My career broke in 2010, and when that dam broke the fear went wild and I had my first real taste of depression for a long time.
And I keep spitting it out. Trying not to consume it. Talk myself out of it. Be better. Be stronger.
I want to be okay. I'm trying so hard to be. Some days I almost succeed.
I miss the person that I was, the hope that she carried even in the rough times.
And maybe I shouldn't hit the publish button. Keep it in. Paste on a smile.
This too shall pass. And I do believe there is a plan.
I just needed a keyboard to cry on, a confessional of weakness.
And I'll be stronger tomorrow.