The clock struck midnight and we didn’t even know it.
A new year was starting as we stood, teary-eyed and paralyzed.
He said he would leave me if I didn’t get help.
For a moment, I didn’t care either way.
The darkness had become too much.
I blamed him.
I blamed my family.
The family that needed more than I had.
I blamed a traumatic birth.
I blamed being split in two.
I blamed circumstance.
I blamed my baby…
The baby that needed to be held 20 hours a day.
The baby that screamed endlessly.
The baby that made me cry…
made me scream…
made me smile…
made me ill with life.
I blamed myself.
The word “depression” was hard to find…
clouded by actual, real life hardships.
“It’s not me. Anyone would think this all sucked.”
Was it my outlook or was it all the crap life was throwing at me?
Did it matter?
It all felt wrong.
I didn’t belong here.
I took a wrong turn.
These thoughts were unwanted.
This life was not mine.
I felt myself failing.
Failing at the public “happy face”.
Failing as a wife.
Failing as a mother.
Failing to live.
I was too exhausted to tread water.
1, 2, 3, down they go…
Every day they travel to my brain.
The black and grey are slowly lifting…
and I fight.
I fight every day…
the feeling of not having been good enough on my own.