Hopefully this works
The text I wanted to send to my one and only friend, but didn’t, because I feel I complain and bitch too much.
***This is my only complaint. I swear, the only bitch complaint. I have had such a migraine all week, exhausted. And thought about calling out today. For myself. But I didn't. Because *** ended up home
Wednesday and Thursday because he has the fucking leave. I wasn't going to call out today, for myself. To go on a fucking hike I've wanted to do by myself, in weeks, for the migraine. Because I have too many days (3 if your wondering I have leave, annual or sick to cover) that I have to take off anyways.
Because 2 are closed daycare and 1 is for the last day of school the kids want me to go to. But I had to call off anyways, today.
Because *** was sick. So. It
wasn't for me. Nothing is "for me" anymore. Everything is for everyone else. Except me.
Because every time I do something "for me", I didn’t get to call out.***
Didn’t send it. I haven’t had a life that was my own identity. Me. Myself. For 8 years. I love my kids, and I would be nothing without them, and I never regret having.
But I’m lost. I’m not me. My happiness is not my own, and never has been for the last 8 years. (Oldest will be 9 in August)
I’ve accepted mom role. I love the title. I’m fucking imperfect to gods no end. But I would do anything for my kids. I love them with everything I have and have never regretted them.
But I am no longer me. I am not my own person. Because of guilt. Shame, heartbreak, fucking self. I don’t have a. Self. Drinking alone to try and numb the pain. Too fucking self aware and body won’t allow alcoholism, fucking too much in my mind.
(2: 8% beers and a 15% beer in. For state of mind) tears are nothing compared to the own destruction.
**no fucking SI or HI. I want to make that abundantly clear. I would never.**