I'm actually going to admit to being depressed now, I've never felt like such a failure. I don't cry very often, but I'm shaken to my core and need some love right now. Real love that envelops sincere concern and empathy, all wrapped up in two warm arms.
I just need someone that cares.
I really, really, really wish I could go back five years and demand I see a doctor. I wish I could take it all back, all of the stubborn thoughts, the convincing myself I was just "lazy" and perfectly normal. But I was determined to believe that I just had to push through, even thinking I was battling some serious oppression. I would take it all back in a heartbeat, if it meant my disease would not have gotten this bad, and I would be able to do things without planning them at the last minute because I suddenly have a burst of energy. To actually, and truly, have a chance at a normal life. To be the amazing mother I want to be.
Where do I go from here? How when I have admitted defeat and given in to every dark thought in my mind? How do I play with my kids and not break down into tears because I can't stand back up? I have no hope right now. It's all fake. Fake optimism. I'd initially felt a bit of relief, because I wasn't dying. That maybe I'd have a partner in all of this. But I'm entirely alone, and I am drowning in this overwhelming fear I won't ever get to be the person I want to be:
Normal.
No comments:
Post a Comment