Have you ever truly thought you were going bat shit crazy? Like check me into a mental clinic and med me up so that the feeling of drowning and the tears stop and the complete sense of loss of control can go? That was me. 5 weeks ago. 5 weeks ago, I hit the lowest of lows where my body gave in to the heightened stress and sadness and panic and anger and hopelessness that had been building and building where it got to a point where I couldn’t talk. I would sit underneath the shower for I have no idea how long, just feeling the beating of the water beads drip on me while my tears were hidden by the shower rain. I had officially hit rock bottom. Rock bottom and absolutely terrified that I actually couldn’t hit rock bottom due to the strength that I so needed to have for my kids and especially for my man. My man, who has been battling this year with so much pain and I’m sure, fear in himself of how debilitating his illness at times is attacking his...
TRYING TO FIND THE BLISS IN THE MAYHEM OF EVERYDAY