There are moments when it washes over me with a torrent of sadness. They come and I can’t stop them. And they’re frightening. And it’s a lonely feeling knowing this inferno is raging inside and you daren’t tell a soul.
If there’s a hell, this feels pretty much like it to me. I knew that I’d not been great these past few days but I thought I was OK (ish). And then, there I am walking back to the car earlier today and I pass a dense thicket of trees and ivy by the side of the road.
I can’t tell you what I thought as I saw it. It wasn’t good though. I’ve thought about ‘it’ a lot this week. I’ve got plans in place for different scenarios.
I don’t honestly think I’d be missed that much. I’m just so incredibly annoying to know. But my children. I love them and being with them is the only time I feel truly like it is OK. I love them and they love me. There’s no fear involved, no doubt, no uncertainty, no questioning, no worrying. It just is love. And I feel loved by them. That is what keeps me here.
There have been many things that have happened to me in which I’ve had no choice. They’ve happened. There’s something about me which makes them happen. I feel like having or expressing a choice of my own is laughable because I don’t see the point. Choice was taken away from me and I don’t feel like it will ever genuinely return.
Thinking about ‘it’ gives me a choice however and it scares me because I feel a control about that which I don’t feel about so much in my life.
I would use these words to describe me:
“Kind, loving, caring, artistic, creative, shy, introverted and thoughtful”
But there are others which have been used to describe me and which I am struggling with:
“Abused, depressed, anxious, traumatised, emotionally neglected”
These are both me. I have two faces. I don’t know how to bring them together into one.
Publishing this is my way of trying to keep going. It’s not a judgement/comment/opinion about anyone else or anything else. This is my war. I have to fight it alone-no one can do that for me.