Broken, less than … that’s how I feel.
A shadow of the person I am supposed to be.
Never able to finish what I plan or hope to accomplish.
Always checking to see how I feel. Have I overdone? Will the pain be too much?
I feel like a pain. A pain to the people that depend on me most.
I am supposed to be strong.
I am supposed to be brave.
I am supposed to be able to stand up and be the me I have always been.
Be a mom, be a wife, be a woman that is independent and enchanted with life.
I am less than.
I take it hour by hour, day by day.
Hoping that I can do it, hoping I can get through it.
Making excuses to call away the pain.
Hoping that maybe they don’t see it in my eyes – the pain, the sadness, the feeling of despair.
Hoping that maybe they won’t see what is really going on.
Hoping that maybe today I won’t have to breakdown and decide what has to be done, and what I can put off for yet another day.
Hope is what I still have … that the pain hasn’t yet taken away.
Every day is another day, every day a different degree of me.
Mostly broken, mostly less than … but still hopeful that tomorrow will be better.