Sometimes I am so freaking sick of my own voice inside my head. Seriously.
Sometimes it baffles me why so many people read this blog when it’s so… well… sad.
Sometimes, I wonder how long this will go on for.
Five months. And I just want some relief.
I have to stop and remind myself that this is relief, compared to what I was dealing with three months ago, four months ago.. compared to that, this should be easy.
But it’s not. It’s ridiculously difficult and I want a holiday from my head, because it’s such an unpleasant place to be. And there’s a little voice at the back of it that tells me to shut up and stop whinging, get over it already. And get back to normal.
There is no normal now.
I’m getting better, I know that… but it’s such a slow, drawn out process.
I wish I could sleep through it. Erase it.
Cry enough to wash it all away.
I wander my house at night,a ghost. I can’t wait for my children to go to bed, and when they do I am lost. Stuck half between who I was, and some new person who I’m building from the ruins.