I haven't written much lately. I have nothing nice to say. We went to Disneyland and instead of the happiest place on earth it sort of felt like a giant reminder that I can never be enough. I played the part for my kids but I died a little. We came home and it was Easter and I did my best but the week left me in pain and angry at the world.
The make a pill for that. I am taking it now. I feel hollow.
I called the doctor and cried. I play waiting games with no hope for change anymore.
My daughter asked a question that left me shaken a week ago. I haven't even told Jon or my best friend. I carry it around with me on the brink of tears.
I can't talk about it but I can't let it go because it's the only thing I really feel anymore.
Angry at the world. Angry at myself. Angry at God.
The baby's birthday is Sunday. I love my kids so much that I find myself awake when I should be sleeping thinking and worrying about if they are happy, do they know, will they understand.
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