I’ve Lost The Will To Carry On (Woe Is Me)
Some days are just harder than others. I wish I had a dollar every time somebody told me I was a strong woman. Because inside, I don’t feel like I am, and I’ve done a great job of fooling everyone.
I KNOW life will go on. I KNOW I’ll be okay. I KNOW there are other fish in the sea. I KNOW Alex will be fine. I KNOW Chip won’t leave me in a bad position. I KNOW, I KNOW, I KNOW.
But grief & depression are part of the recovery process. So if I want to wallow in self-pity for a couple of hours, I should be allowed to do so without someone trying to cheer me up. Seriously, I know it sounds sick, but it works. I cry for a little while, and then I’m okay. Really. I LIKE the lows. It gives me a reason to look for the highs.
So don’t worry about me if I sound down; I have the right to be. And soon, I’m sure I’ll take the advice that everyone has REALLY wanted to give, but been too kind to say:
GET OVER IT. 