Contest

I am weak, I am afraid, I am so very fragile I frequently cry myself to sleep, and I often spend hours convincing myself to get out of bed.

What is important is that I do. Is that I go to work, I change my daughter, I feed my husband. I take care of what I need to and often neglect myself.

This is my sickness, this is my daily struggle.

Maybe it isn’t yours, maybe you say ‘at least’ to that.

At least you have a job.
At least you have a child.
At least you have a husband.

But it is still my struggle, it is still hard, and I am still proud to have continued to defeat it everyday.

Every struggle should be acknowledged, no matter how we might see each other. No matter the ‘at least’s.

Life is hard, no one is good at it.

At least we can all struggle through it together instead of comparing in some kind of morbid contest.

Milestones

This morning I went into My daughter’s room and found this:

Confessions

Sometimes I’m still terrified he’ll leave and never come back. Because the one time he did leave is my Weathertop scar, it never fully healed. It still aches.

But I don’t dare mention it to him, because I can see in his eyes how much it hurts him. I don’t ever want to hurt him.