... is how "strong" I am. How people "admire" me for my "bravery" and my "dignity." How "inspiring" my example is.
I AM NOT STRONG!!! I am doing the things I need to do because my two little boys need me to do them. But I am not strong. I am so small, so tiny in the face of the huge monster that has devoured my life. The beast is huge and ugly and there is nothing I can do to get rid of it. It stands there blocking my way, just daring me to try...
Yes, I get out of bed every day and I get the boys to school and the house is reasonably clean and most of the laundry is folded and I've gotten the finances squared away and and and and ... But this is not strength. It is survival.
Vent vent vent
Can you tell I'm fed up and tired?
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