Something is crushing my chest. My breath is short and shallow, my heart struggles with every beat, and my stomach churns with guilt, sadness, and desperation. I want so badly to remove the weight, but I can’t see it, I can only feel it. I feel it every day. Some days it doesn’t seem so bad, but there are many more where I just can’t handle it so I sit in a near catatonic state, struggling within myself on what to do.
Everyone around me thinks I’m lazy. I sit here and do nothing. But I am doing something. Something no one else can see. I try to rid my head of the gory, terrifying images that overcome my conscious mind. I try to make a game plan of all the things I should be doing right now. Which to do first? Dishes? No, laundry. While the laundry is washing I can wash dishes then once that’s done I can fold and put away the clothes, then I need to clean the kitchen counter, the floor, vacuum. Shit, I have to pick up the toys before I can vacuum. Bubby NO! Don’t put that in your mouth, spit that out! Icky! Sissy, stop teasing your brother. Share dammit. Go play in the playroom. Nicely!! Littlest, sweetie I know, Mommy is just too busy right now, I’ll pick you up soon I promise. Shit, where was I, right I just cleaned the…wait, no. I haven’t done anything. I’ve just been thinking about what to do.
After all this I get exhausted and feel overwhelmed before I even do anything.
Mommy, I’m thirsty, I want juice.
In a minute, honey.
I’m thirsty NOW Mommy!
I said. In. A. Minute!
Just a second, Bubby.
Just hang on a minute, will ya?
Yes, juice. In. A. Minute.
My heart feels like it’s caving in on itself. I want to cry all the time. I feel like every inch of me is dying and if you cut me open you’ll find nothing but black, decayed mush. My mind keeps whispering destructive things to me. I feel like I’ve failed. I went to therapy for two years. I was getting better, but now it’s as if I never went. Nothing is better. Not anymore.
It’s cold outside. So cold. I just want to go out there, barefoot, and lie in the grass. Curled up in the fetal position. Let the cold overcome me. Let me be numb so I won’t feel anything anymore. Let this living nightmare end.
But I can’t. I fight. Everyday because my kids need me. But I just want to give up. I want to fade away from existence. Just quietly disappear. Thinking like this only infuriates me and fills me with guilt. I look upon the faces of my children and I get so mad at myself for ever thinking those things. How could I do such a thing? I want to see them grow up. I want to be there for them. But I’m so tired of fighting with myself. With them. With my husband.
This weight is getting heavier by the minute today. My whole body is beginning to ache. And here I sit, nearly paralyzed by this invisible force. No motivation to move. I don’t want to eat or drink. I just want to stop hurting.