She lived a thousand years before I even lived 40…
This picture has sat in my phone for weeks. I struggled to post it. I hurts from the depths of my unforgiving soul every time I see it. Nothing can prepare a family to handle watching this type of suffering from their child. Nothing can save my beaten and broken heart because of her pain. I didn’t realize then that the me I was would go with her. Gone for good.
Nothing, forever, a thousand times, will ever makeup for this exhausting and incomplete leftover life we are trying to live. Faking happiness with every turn of events. It’s like the moment she died someone dropped me a million miles away and I’m constantly trying to walk back to my old life. In search of that happiness I didn’t appreciate or cherish. Trying new things with old traditions. Hoping it will remind me of a time when… It never works… I remember by morning.
Maybe that’s it. It will never get better, and I’ll be mapping my way back for life. The thought fills me with dread. The selfish thoughts. Self loathing has become comforting. I don’t want to be here or like that. I want to have some peace again. Even if it’s just for a moment. To breath. With my healthy girls. Free again.