i'm nearly at my wits end. every day another accusation. every day another feeling of lowliness and like i am constantly in the wrong. i wonder what it's like to do something right aside from my pedestrian masterpieces in the kitchen. i wonder what it's like to have a healthy balance of understanding and trust. that certainly is not the case for me. every day i am accused and stared at like i bear a scarlet letter. it's enough to do one's own head in.
i carry a lot of weight. so much so that my body is starting to suffer. i will admit i am at fault on a certain spectrum. i will admit i'm not the most affectionate and patient person around. i will admit that. i wont, however, carry guilt and blame for things i have not done.
i feel incredibly dead inside. the only spark of life i get is from a 16 month old little wonder that greets me with morning snuggles and big smiles. aside from her, i feel an aching void where i once had a spark and a steady sound. it's cold to live in an echoing, soundless cavern. i miss the sounds of noise and music. i miss the squeals of laughter. i miss those things. it's a rare thing to hear them anymore.
i find my patience is at an all time low, the bags under my eyes have their own bags, my stomach is constantly churning itself into a knotted knot, and my house is no longer a place i want to call "home."
i wish there were only a quick fix. a flick of a switch, a push of a few buttons, some magic words, and "PRESTO!" instant sanity! unfortunately reality is not that amazing.
i had this amazing goal to stay positive in my 28th year. it is proving to be harder and harder as each day progresses and my situations are at a stand still. i am trying to be patient and know that there is a light at the end of this long and ever winding tunnel, but it's hard when your flashlight's run out of batteries and you're surrounded by darkness on every side.