I’m still not better.
Whatever ‘better’ means.
Because at this point I’m not sure.
I haven’t cried today, so put that one in the win column, but at the same time I spent much of the day frustrated and wound up which has turned itself into a monster tension headache now that the sun has set and the littles are in bed. Someone emailed me early last week asking if kids really can “make it all better.” If their smiling faces can pull you back from the ledge and if they’re worth it.
It was a hard question to answer.
Yes, my girls are my light and life; every day they give me something new to fight for. It’s not just me anymore, I’m responsible for three other humans and two felines. My darling husband takes over when I fall down, but I know no one else in the world can replace my role as Addie and Vivi’s mom. Would I trade them for anything? Absolutely not, but at the same time I’ve admitted to resenting Addie, realizing at the same time that she’s what’s kept me going for the last eight years. It’s not that she’s a bad kid, because she certainly isn’t, it’s that depression can turn you into a selfish person when you don’t understand it or how it can affect you.
Today I wanted to be selfish but selfish isn’t an option right now. I had to breathe slower, force myself to relax and cling to any little bit of good that could carry me to bedtime.
Tomorrow is a new day, both my girls are tucked in safely with the lingering warmth of my hugs and kisses on them.
I didn’t do perfect today, but I did okay.
I’m not better, but I’m not worse, and that’s something.
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