I went back and read my blog entries, and you know something? They weren't half bad. Almost therapeutic. Probably cheaper than my anxiety meds and antidepressants....oy....
So here's my attempt...again, at blogging.
I don't know what I'm doing. My life is still as big of a mess as it was the last time I started blogging. The last posts were when my life was starting to fall apart. And they read that way, too. We were just told we had to do something my body, my heart, and my soul were saying we shouldn't....right after my birthday...and crappy things happen around my birthday, so I knew this wasn't going to be good.
I have to admit...almost 2 years later, I have nothing new to report. As expected, our family fell apart. I could've saved "the system" tons of money, time and effort, and our family a bunch of pain if people would've listened to me in the first place.
"you were right" rings very shallow now.
I don't want to be right. For once in my life, I wish I was wrong. I wish I could make things all better. But I can't. My daughters still cry themselves to sleep sometimes. They still don't know whether to include her in their drawings, their pictures, their stories, their lives. Crazy thing is, she's still alive...they still talk to her, sometimes....so how do you mourn someone who's not gone?!?
It doesn't seem right. Nothing does.
So much time and energy. Wasted. Everyone says "oh, don't worry...one day it'll work out".
It's not like I feel alone...I don't. At times I wish I WAS alone....because my inability to handle things tore apart a family....MY FAMILY....
Yes, I did all I could, we all did....Mental illness stole a family member....and sometimes, it threatens to grow in strength and steal me, too.
But I can't, I won't let it. I've fought too hard...for me, for my family....
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