this. is me.

Today. I posted a very transparent post to a group of women I don’t know. Today it felt like opening up a wound I haven’t healed, and quite frankly one I don’t know how. All I know is I am not okay. Its hard being a woman. A mother. A parent. A wife. A caregiver.

Today I felt a drowning. a consuming. a death. It has been looming in the background. I knew that the ground swell would overtake me soon. I knew.

I know. Yet.

Today a seemingly small thing brought on a panic attack like no other. My son (5) was helping mommy by wiping his nose. He had snot everywhere *snickers* but he tried and he was so proud. I was late to work, coming up on his school and trying to figure out how NOT to let my son walk in school looking like Roscoe (Martin). That’s when it hit me.

Panic, despair. I  couldn’t take the time to wipe my son’s nose because I was already late. Yes.

That’s irrational. Yes that how panic attacks are some time.

This time I felt like I’d NEVER be able to wipe his nose or that I’d ALWAYS be too pressed to do the small things for him. I’ve been fighting these feelings off for quite a while.

But. its too strong. The spirits. The despair. the despondency. the nowhere to turn.

I work with children, in the “inner city” (eye roll). I hate that term.

These babies need someone whole, someone that can give themselves to them, someone that is not me.

I often feel like I am doing them more harm than good, and no good can come from that.

I cant continue to give them the little that I do have because then I don’t have enough for my family.

Today strength was not enough. I also tell women to take care of themselves. Today I need to follow my own advice.

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