Write about something presently in your life that is "worth it."

Whew...there are so many things that I could write about. The kids, the man, the dehoarding, the working...but really, I think that they all boil down to one thing. The struggle, the fight. Some of you may read over at Welcoming Weight Loss so you know that I deal with PTSD, Bipolar 2, and OCD on a daily basis. It's not always easy and some days are far easier than others. It often means though that I just "don't want to." The motivation isn't zero, it's negative one million. I'm "out of spoons" or however you want to say it. There are days when I want to do it all. Of course, those are the days that what gets done isn't really what needs to get done. It can be a lot to be me, but the struggle is worth it. Every day that I listen to me and I take care of me makes things just a little bit easier. Every day that I take my medication, I get out of bed, and I work is worth it. It allows me time with my children. It allows me time with the man. It allows me to find me and to be me. If I didn't fight the fight, I would be missing out on a lot and the world would be missing out on me. It's not always easy, but it's always worth it. I have days where I forget that, but I'm lucky that I have those who will help me fight on those days. Today, I have a lot to do and there's an underlying voice saying that I don't want to...but the laundry will get folded, the posts will get written, and I will fight on. I hope you'll join me in fighting the fight that keeps you here with us all.








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Last post I left off with the conversation that I had with myself on the drive home after a busy day. Today, I want to tell you about what happened after that....

I came to the conclusion that I think I knew all along. Once I cut away all the insecurity and all the garbage surrounding the truth, there it was waiting for me. It wasn't anyone's doubt in my abilities but my own. He didn't use me (or anyone else) because he didn't feel he needed to. He had the confidence in his work that I never seem to have in my own.

The review on Amazon for the book that I worked on with Nick was harsh but it was true. I didn't give the book the attention it needed on what should have been its second to last pass through. As I worked on the book, Nick repeatedly told me that it needed more of me in it and after taking the time to process the review, I think I finally understand what he meant. I tweaked his story but I didn't add to it. I didn't change it. It's still Nick's book with me making the most minor of changes, things that most people wouldn't even notice when reading it.

By the time I pulled into my driveway, I was completely calm and at peace with the situation. I had hope that no longer feeling the panicked anxiety that I had failed Nick on book 1 would allow me to get back to work on book 2. Wednesday is supposed to be my writing day, you see. It's the day that I have 3 hours set aside to do nothing but write. Except, that isn't what happened...

I looked at my bag where my writing notes live. I looked at the folder icon on my laptop. I did both these things but I couldn't go further than that. I was suddenly overwhelmed by exhaustion. I decided that perhaps the time had come to lay down and explore these feelings and to try to get to the bottom of the situation. Except, the oddest thing happened...I laid down on the couch, stared up at the ceiling and started working my way through things. What was the cause of the anxiety? That part was easy...

1. I "failed" at book 1. While people seem to like it, I didn't do my job to the best of my abilities and I let Nick and myself down in that.

2. Book 2 is supposed to be far more me. Nick has made that clear when we've talked about it. This book isn't supposed to just be me tweaking. It's supposed to be me adding things to it, changing it, and when I finish this book, I'm supposed to write a third book all by myself. I'm terrified of book 3. I don't know that I can do it.

3. See author in quotes triggered my ptsd. It brought back every moment when I was told that I couldn't do something and/or wouldn't ever be anything.

Except, as I laid there, I wasn't feeling any of the anxiety. I was laying there, completely clear minded as I went over everything in my mind. Finally, I asked myself one question, telling myself that whatever my first answer would be would be what I trusted. I asked myself, "What are you supposed to do?" and without second thought, I answered "Write book 2." I had total peace and no insecurities, no indecision, just peace that this is what I was meant to do.

What does this mean? Well, it could be a few things...

1. The anxiety over working on the second book may not be true anxiety but something I've taught myself. The only way to get over it will be to force my way past it and to just pull out the notebook, to open the file and and do something. It won't be easy but it will be something I do.

2. I've acquired a form of ...numbness when it comes to this. This happens to me in high anxiety/stress situations. I don't realize just how badly things are affecting me until I have some sort of physical manifestation of the stress. This first started happening to me when I was 19. It's called conversion disorder and it's not much fun. For me, it's happened different ways...I develop a cold spot in my chest, my hands go cold, one time I had a pain that raced down my left arm and for 3 days, my hand on that side was pins and needles as if I'd slept on it.

3. I have finally, on some level, accepted that this is what I'm supposed to do. I'm supposed to write. I have stories to tell and I'm supposed to tell them.

If I really have to say, I'd say it's a combination of all three. Knowing that gives me power though. It means that the next time I have the chance to pull out my files and notebook, I will take a deep breath and I will pull things out. It may take me a couple of attempts to actually start working again on the book, but  I will start working on it again. I have an April 30th deadline. It won't be done by then and that's okay.



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Hi all! I realized today that it's been quite a while since I posted just a random update post. Since I have a bit of time before I need to go pick up the youngest, I thought I'd stop by and say hi! Hi!

Thing here are actually going pretty well. There are the usual concerns but for the most part, we're doing okay. I've been making slow progress on the house. Watch for an upcoming photo update post from the kitchen. It's been a long summer though. I've rarely been at home and it's very much taking its toll on me. I'm tired. How tired am I? So tired that I can't stop giggling over this darn image.

Surprisingly enough, my mood seems fairly stable. I'm incredibly appreciative of that fact. Usually when I get this run down, I'm a complete disaster. Right now, though I have my moments of melancholy, it's not crippling me. I'm doing okay and it puts a huge smile on my face to be able to say that. Ever since I went to Baltimore, I've been working on me. It was pointed out to me then that I spend most of my life hiding away and I realized that the person was right. I had gotten to the point where I was scared of most everything.

It hasn't been easy but one little step at a time I've worked on reclaiming me. I've started working on my weight. (You can read about that over on Welcoming Weight Loss) I've gotten back into working on the kitchen. I went out for drinks one night when I was invited. My biggest thing? I've taken on a co-author role on a series of books. The opportunity was offered to me over a year ago but I was too afraid to agree to do it. Now, even though I'm not as confident in myself as my partner is, I'm doing it - one word, one paragraph, one chapter at a time. I've also decided to further my education. Not with another degree quite yet (there's some serious financial mess to clear up before that can happen), but with an hour every other week during my writing time where I focus on something. Some of you may remember Caliban's website. I'm working my way from beginning to end of that. It's a bit of a journey of self-discovery. Once I finish that, I have a ton of blogging and writing tool pdfs that I'd like to go through. Once the boys are back in school, I'm going to increase the frequency for working on the book and for "homeschooling" myself. I do want to go back to college and most likely get a second bachelor's degree and then who knows, one day I may even become Dr Kat. I kind of like the sound of that.

For now though, things are going well. I'm doing well. Finances are always tricky, but I'm not letting that defeat me. I'm keeping busy doing what I can do and trying not to focus on the things that I can't control.

Eek! I just noticed the time! It's time for me to get changed and to head into town to pick up Roger. We have some grocery shopping to do and then home. I'll be back soon though. I have to tell all of you what the boys are up to!



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For the past few days, I've had multiple posts running around in my head, but I wasn't in a mental or emotional place where I could sit and write without it sounding like I was having some sort of breakdown. I want to start out by assuring everyone that I'm okay. I'm just having a really rough week, but I'm still here and I'm still fighting and that's the part that really matters. Now...on with the post....

Yesterday something happened that put me into a near panic attack like state for almost the entire day. It got so bad that I ended up with a migraine, which oddly enough may be the best thing that could have happened, but we'll get to that. So, what happened?

A friend of mine took the day off from work to celebrate his wife's birthday. He made her breakfast in bed, gave her amazing presents, and perhaps the best gift of all, he gave himself to her for the day. The day really was all about her. I'm sure you're shaking your head wondering what this could have possibly triggered. Fear. It triggered the biggest bout of panic and fear that I've had in a long time.

You see, I have a long history..39 years worth at this point of being tossed aside by nearly every single man who I have ever let get close to me and seeing what he was doing for his wife made me
afraid. I was afraid..and still am, though I'm working on it..that I will never have anything like that. I will never have anyone love me that much.

One thought..seemingly innocent.."I would so badly love for someone to love me like that." turned into a day of hell. My mind spiraled to the point where I was sure that it was impossible. If people saw me the way I see me...well, surely there isn't a single soul out there who could possibly love someone as messed up as me. I cried. I tried to fight my way out of it, but the harder I fought, the deeper I sank. I sank until I could no longer function and I gave up. I had a migraine, no rational way to explain the panic I was feeling, and nobody who I would completely subject them to the entirety that is the insanity that is my brain. So, I gave up. I shut down the laptop and I laid down on the couch. I tried to watch a movie, but I couldn't focus. My mind wouldn't stop. It kept right on going with its lies and nonsense... "You have an upcoming anniversary with someone and I bet they don't even know the date and they're not going to do anything special for you. You'll never be loved like that."

I don't know what suddenly changed. The movie was about over (Life of Brian, for anyone curious. I hadn't seen it yet and thought funny might help) and in the final scene, they start singing this ridiculous song, one I've heard over and over again and suddenly something clicked. All day long, I'd been thinking that I was jealous or envious, but the reality is that I was afraid. None of those three emotional states are rational, but somehow fear is easier to deal with. I know fear to be a way that depression keeps its hold. Depression lies and uses fear to help.

Fear is the reason that I don't lose weight. Fat is a buffer against rejection. When my ex-husband cheated on me and it led to our divorce, my grandmother asked me if I thought it had anything to do with my weight gain throughout our marriage. It hadn't, but the question was out there and as I laid there last night, silence in the house, I realized the fear is keeping me from a lot of things. I don't lose the weight because what if I did and nothing changed, nobody wanted to be with me. I don't go out (partially due to finances) because what if I met someone (male/female/whatever) and I liked them and then I never heard from them again?

Fear and depression pipe up in their twin voices with a single message. It's okay because you don't deserve those things anyway. Nobody could possibly love you or want to be your good friend with your past, with how you are. It's an incredibly hard mental prison to break free from. I've given my heart fully and openly, showed my entire self to just a few people ever and of those, two of them stopped talking to me and have pushed me completely out of their lives. Fear uses that as evidence that it's right.

Knowing that fear is trying to become the motivator in my life is a blessing. Remember I said that the migraine may have been the best thing that could happen to me? This is why. It allowed me to shut out all of the outside noise that bombards so many of us every day. No Facebook, no Twitter, no music, nothing but me and when I can get to the core of me, I can find the problem. Knowing the problem allows for me to find a solution. As you may have heard, knowing is half the battle. The other half is the fight to shut down those voices, but if Fear is the enemy of love, the solution is love. Loving myself and my flaws, acknowledging them but not letting them rule me. It's not going to be easy. I have over 30 years of conditioning to conquer. Still, if I can love myself, take care of myself, and yes, even spoil myself, I'll be doing the best thing that I can do.




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I don't know how many people read my post earlier today, but this is a follow up to that. What I wrote earlier was based purely on anxiety and emotion and was logical in its own way, but not in the way it should have been.

I want to start out this post by thanking people for either giving me hugs, coming up with options, reminding me of legalities, or in the case of one just plain telling me that I was wrong.

Was I wrong? Not entirely. Like I said, there was some logic in how I was thinking. I really do love it here and don't want to lose this house because of my own hoarding issues. I'm also proud of me that I know that I deserve to live in a house that has things like hot water, something most of us take for granted these days.

Was I right? Not entirely. I never should have let the anxiety take over. I should have taken a deep breath, looked around at the work I had already accomplished, created a plan to deal with the rest and then contacted the owner of the house. I have a problem with overreacting before thinking clearly. I usually come around to the right side, but it's not always my first response to something. On top of that, I'm still forgiving myself for things getting how they were. So my instinct was to go into a mode where I felt ashamed and didn't want to let anyone in.

Nick was right. I was letting the anxiety make decisions for me and that isn't me taking care of myself. It's not me standing up for myself, even to myself.  I guess I'm still learning. I've come a long way but the journey isn't over and I know that I'm blessed to have someone who is willing to say hey, you're wrong. Even if it makes me defensive, it usually makes me stop and think too..because who likes being wrong?

So what's next? An email will be going out to the owner of the house about the water heater. She's always been good about getting things fixed when I let her know something was wrong. I need to keep working on shutting down the anxiety I feel about being on a month to month lease. I know we've been good about paying rent on time, we're rarely a problem and it is her responsibility to make sure the house is in livable condition.

After that? Well, I've started tackling the dining alcove. Who knows, maybe by the end of the weekend, it will be complete and the boys and I can sit at the table again to eat and play games. Won't that be a lovely thing? For now though, I have about 30 minutes before I have to go pick up the boys and I don't have a shopping list yet! Time to create one!




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I'm tired and not the normal kind of tired. I call this depression tired..this unnatural need/desire to sleep all of the time. I feel as if I only have the energy to be up for tiny pockets of time and then I want to sleep again. It's hard to function when all you want to do is sleep and even though you battle, there's no real winning the war.

I know what triggered this, but like the battle for energy, there's nothing I can do to change the cause. I went to a convention last weekend and it was good. It was wonderful being back out among people and not just any people, but people who love indie comics as much as I do. I even helped do a panel which was amazing. It felt so good to talk about things that I knew and to have zero doubt that I knew what I was talking about.

I have to admit just remembering that experience has put a smile on my face. You see..I had planned on writing a personal post about my time in Columbus, but this wasn't it. It is now. You never know where things are going to go when you sit down to write, or at least I don't.

So, here's the thing...Columbus was a test for me. For the past year, I've shut myself off more and more. Some have noticed, most haven't. It's easy to hide when you don't live near anyone and everyone is so busy with their lives that they don't notice when you quietly slip away. Very few reach out and say hey, where did you go? I'm lucky that very few doesn't equal zero. Still, I needed some answers.

As I shut myself away, I slowly convinced myself that my other site would be better off without me. I wasn't sure if I still had the passion to do what needed to be doing. After all, the best person to run a site is someone who feels passionate about what the site does. With the struggles I've had over the past year, I wasn't sure if that person was me anymore. So, I decided that I needed to either find out or hand the site over to my second in command.

The test? Take myself off to a convention that is strictly 100% tiny indie comics..no vendors, no larger indie publishers that we already work with, just tiny indie guys. I figured that by the end of the weekend, I would know just how I felt about the industry and my future with Geek-o-Rama. Turns out that I was right. By the time I got back to the hotel room Sunday night and had a chance to reflect, I had my answers. I still love what I do. I love meeting new people and hearing about their passion for an industry that isn't the easiest to break into. I love being able to give bits of advice (though seriously, I may need to start charging consulting fees) and being able to share what I (and my amazing staff) do with them. Don't get me wrong, I still love working with the bigger indie publishers, but my heart will always lie with the underdog.

Honestly, it came as an incredible relief. I was afraid that this was one more thing that had been taken from me. It wasn't though and over the summer, I plan on diving back into the pool and working harder than ever.

To close out this post, how about a Top 5 list of random things from SPACE 2016?

1. Spending $5 to purchase an 11 year old's first comic and an art print from her is something that will never stop bringing a smile to my face. It's important to support our children's passions.
2. Having towels in your hotel room is really a good thing and hotels should be on top of that.
3. There's something great about making random connections on the road with people you'll never see again, but in that moment, you connected.
4. Waffle House post con with two really fun people is an experience that I hope to have again. One of the toughest parts of conventions is the sitting alone in a hotel room with takeout afterwards.
5. I really do love what I do and I need to stop letting anxiety get in the way of getting out there. 

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When I wrote the other day, I mentioned "people hoarding" in passing towards the end. I'm back here again to write about that because it's been on my mind ever since it came up in conversation with Justin. So, here we go...this isn't going to be pretty, but as always, it's going to be me...

Sometimes in life, you have a light bulb moment and with people who have things like ocd, for them to make progress, that has to happen. Justin and I were talking the other night...okay, he was talking, I was...what's the word..venting? ranting? I was pouring everything out that had been stuck inside my head. One of the things I said was that I don't know why I even keep certain people in my world...and he agreed with me. Neither of us was sure why I kept people around, even those who had been horrible to me. Then, there was the light bulb. I keep people around for the same reason I keep stuff around. It's a security blanket. I'm afraid that if I cut them loose, it means that I've given up on them and I've had people give up on me and know how painful that can be.

It's more than that though. I'm afraid that if I cut them loose, others may leave and soon, I'll be completely alone. Is that rational? Heck no. Is it a pretty typical thought pattern for someone with anxiety and other issues? Heck yes. We worry that we're such a burden that everyone is going to leave..we're just too much work to be friends with, to love.

With any light bulb moment comes a decision. Do I stay in this pattern or do I try to break it? Today, I'm going to work on breaking it. It's going to be hard. It's going to hurt. With each person, I'm going to mourn what we had and that they chose to not have that. I'm going to list those people here, not out of some sense of revenge, but as a reminder to me of what these people did. In a way, it will be me saying goodbye to them...and as I finish each person, I'll be removing them from my social media and other accounts...It's time to move on with those who truly love and care about me.

Zac - Cheated on his girlfriend with me (I had no idea he was with someone). A few years later, our paths crossed again and he talked about having a relationship with me. Instead, he lied to mutual friends about me, tried to create drama, and then when something happened within the group, allowed his girlfriend who didn't know me to threaten my life.

Brian - Became an incredibly close friend, asked me out and then started dating his best friend that I didn't care for. The problem was that he just stopped talking to me and I had to find this out through a mutual friend. I was okay with him dating her but the fact that he refuses to talk to me tells me that our friendship wasn't all that important to him.

Dawn - Yes, as in my mother. The list of things she's done is too long to mention. Let's just say that her latest childish behavior has pushed me to go past avoidance to just plain removing.

Mark - Yes, my father. He's had a lot of years to make an attempt at being part of my life and instead is just on the drama train with the rest of them. No thanks.

Jim - Someone I considered one of my closest friends. So close that I gave him my grandfather's pen set the last time we exchanged Christmas gifts. Then, he got a girlfriend, got a new grasp on religion and suddenly I no longer existed in his world. He stopped responding to all messages, didn't return phone calls and when a mutual friend died didn't even call me...even when I left a sobbing message on his voice mail.

Other Family - There are a few other family members on my friends list on Facebook and there's really no reason for them to be. I have no relationship with them and due to circumstances, have no real desire to.

That's it for now...I know others will come to mind over time and I hope I have the strength to say goodbye and to move on. Just like surrounding myself with trash and stuff isn't good for my physical or mental health, neither is having these beacons of negativity around. They're constant reminders of people who made me feel as if I wasn't good enough. Even though it's hard, it's time to tell myself that I deserve only the best people in my life, not those who would hurt me without a second thought.

I'm not going to lie to any of you and say that this is easy. My anxiety levels are high and there's that little voice saying, "What if these were the best people you could get?" and "What if there's some kind of fallout from this?"  I'm not listening though. I'm hearing, but I'm not listening. I know for a fact that I have some amazing people in my world already so the first is nonsense. As for the second, I'm fairly certain that none of the people listed above will even notice.



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Today isnt a good day and I question my own judgement in writing this here, but I swore that I would live my life out loud, where people could see that others go through maybe what they're going through....and so here we are...

About ten minutes ago, I posted this to Facebook...soon it will go onto my other site:

I want to apologize in advance that I may be scarce in the coming weeks/months. I have some mental and physical health problems that I need to take care of and really focus on. This may mean me taking more time for myself so that I can get well enough to tackle life head on again. I've been trying to juggle so much that I'm not giving my best to anything and the guilt and stress of that are adding to everything and are taking their toll. I know that I owe things to people and I will get them done. I just can't say when. All I can do is apologize and hope that you can understand that right now I need some time away from things that aren't directly helping me get better.

 I promise all of you that I will get better and I will come back stronger. I'm not disappearing but taking a step back. Call me, text me, email me, message me...it all helps but please understand that right now my focus is on fixing myself and my world. I love you all very, very much. That will never change. I just want to be okay and that's going to take some work.

I wrote that last night and waited about ten hours before posting it. I had hoped that sleep would change how I felt, but it didn't. I feel as if I'm falling apart and nobody sees me anymore. Oh sure, the rational part of my brain knows that isn't true, but as so often is the case with the things I suffer with, the rational side isn't completely in charge.  Instead, I find myself in this place that I don't understand and I don't like. For 90% of Valentines Day, I was okay. It was just another day and then suddenly a post was made by a friend of mine and I got angry. I got angry that he's with someone and I'm not...and yes, a bit that when he was single, he didn't notice me. Please, don't mistake this for jealousy. It could easily be seen that way and it's not. It's not just certain people being in relationships. It happens when a friend had a story published in an anthology and I saw him give a ton of credit for it to someone else even though I was his cheerleader and his editor. It happens when someone tells me I have no idea what I'm talking about even though I've been doing something for years. It's just that right now, I'm having these knee jerk reactions...I'm reacting and it's taking every last bit of energy that I have not to lash out. I'm living in a constant state of stress...my chest feels as if it's ice cold and burning at the same time all the time. I'm breaking apart and though I know there are others struggling too, all I seem to be able to see is everyone else's joy...new babies, new relationships, happy relationships, etc. More and more I feel like an outsider and it allows my fears to get a stronger grip.

Things that I thought I had gotten past...like my family and their pure jackassedness ...are popping up and instead of walking away and shaking my head, I'm struggling with the desire to just tell them precisely how I feel about how they're behaving now and in the past. My blood pressure is up, my body is one stress reaction after another...
 
How many of us have seen this image on places like Facebook? I'm sure a lot of us. I saw it again last night and it hit me...I'm not getting better. I had been getting better, but something shifted and now I'm getting bitter. When I feel as if nobody sees me or nobody appreciates what I do, I'm getting angry. I'm getting frustrated. I just want to throw my hands up in the air and walk away from everything. I want to say "fuck off" to everyone and just live a life of seclusion where I can be alone...except, I'd be alone with my anger and everything else. It wouldn't help. 

There's so much more to this....how I've become afraid of the outside world, why I hoard people even those who have been nasty to me, how I don't feel as if I'm worth spending $35 on....and I know that I'll write those and maybe a few of you will read them and maybe it will resonate with one or two of you and somehow help. If it helps even one person, it makes the fight a little more worth it. 



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I never wanted to go back and yet here I am. It's been about six weeks since everything seemed to fall apart and in those six weeks, I've slowly been trying to piece my world...myself...back together again and all it took was a couple of pictures and I'm on the floor, curled up, crying all over again.

PTSD can be a bitch like that. All it takes is one little thing and suddenly you're reliving everything all over again. I thought I was getting better. Sure, there were rough moments, but I'd kept going. I'd fought. Even in the worst of it, he told me that I would get back up again and go on kicking ass like I always did.

I'd been trying to condition myself for things that might come...things that might hurt...things that might trigger, but I didn't expect them to come the way they did. I didn't prepare myself. I have this cold spot. It's right in the middle of my chest. If you touch it, the skin is actually colder there. It's as if seeing what I did sent an ice arrow right through me and it's so cold that it burns. It'd been weeks since that had happened. I was stronger. I was ready to move on.

Now, it's as if everything just happened. I want to hide. I cry. I sob. I pant trying to stop myself from hyperventilating. My skin feels like there's something crawling and I have to fight not to scratch. Every single awful thing keeps running through my head like a movie reel. I stare at my screen...at pictures of friends...and I whisper help me, someone please help me. Take me from this hell...but they can't hear me. I'm alone in this awful place.

Why do I write this? I write this to save myself. Maybe if I share this with the world then maybe there's a chance I can survive this. Maybe I can tap more into the anger that's deep inside of me...anger at myself for giving anyone this kind of control in my life and anger with him for letting his cowardice lead to cruelty. The fact that it's in there means there's hope. I'm not totally lost to this. Maybe if I share this, someone else will realize that they're not alone when it happens to them.

So what's next for me? I don't rightly know. More and more I'm starting to think that therapy is something I should seek. There's also the voice of someone I love in my head telling me to fight, not to hide...I don't know what I'm going to do. Hiding keeps me safe from the world and the scary things in it. Nobody can hurt me if I don't open myself up to them.  I feel as if I don't really have anyone that I can talk to about this. The platitudes don't help a lot though the thought behind them is appreciated. Those who try to intellectualize this just make it worse. My support network has gone eerily quiet, even when I've tried to reach out. I don't judge. I know life gets busy and that there's not always the time for things like this.

For today, I'll make some lunch...and wish that I weren't always the one reaching out to those I love...and maybe let the cat have her way in her desires to sit on me.



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I should probably apologize for falling off the face of the Earth, but all I'm going to say is that the past few months took on a life of their own and everything came to a head last Tuesday.

I'm not going to get into a lot of details here because on some level, they just don't matter. What matters is the end result.

As most of you know, I deal with a multitude of mental issues every day...bipolar 2, ptsd, anxiety, ocd...and most of the time, I manage. This time, I didn't. In the midst of a depressive cycle, the man that I had fallen in love with decided that he wanted to pursue a relationship with someone else. It was too much. I've been fighting my own demons for months and I was emotionally exhausted. I had nothing left.

So, last Wednesday, while driving into town to do homework with the kids, my brain wouldn't stop ticking. It wouldn't stop thinking about everything and suddenly, I had this moment of clarity..the kind where everything seems to fall into place. I didn't want to live anymore. I wanted to die. This wasn't just one of those passing thoughts. It was as if a lightbulb had gone off in my head. There's no reason for me to be on this planet. I could die and life would go on for everyone else and it would be okay. Everyone had someone. They didn't need me.

I did homework with Ben. I tried to spend time with Roger. I tried not to cry. The one person who I had trusted more than anyone on this planet reached out to me and I told him. Even though just seeing his name caused me physical pain, I told him. He reached out to others who tried to contact me. I ignored them all. I didn't want to be talked out of this. The decision felt right.

When it was time to leave the school, I sat in my car saying goodbye to my children, to those that I love. I sat there crying for a while, the pain raw and consuming. Then, I started my car and headed out of town. As each car passed me, I prayed that it would hit me and I would die. I scouted places where if I drove my car off fast enough, it might roll or hit a tree or cause enough damage that I wouldn't live. As I got closer to home, a truck stopped a ways up in front of me and for a few moments, my foot didn't reach for the brake. I thought if I ran into him, it might kill me and I almost didn't hit the brake. In the end, I did...simply because I wanted to come home and finalize some things...then, the next night, I would do it. Some would say this was me looking for a way out, but it wasn't. I wanted to die. I just didn't want to leave more chaos behind me than was going to happen anyway.

In the end, I made it home alive and since I'm here writing this, you can guess I didn't go out the next day and off myself. Some tiny thing shifted and while every day has had its battles, I'm still here. Still, I'm tired and I'm fragile. Sometimes I'm living minute by minute, not day by day. Mantras that worked in the past are now contorted by what has happened. My brain changes you are loved to you are alone. The battle with myself is one of the hardest that I've fought.

Is there a moral to this story or even a point? If there is, I'd say that it's a simple one. Take care of those you love. Don't accept I'm fine as a response to how are you? Get details. Care enough to listen. Be there for one another and if nothing else, hold someone's hand so that they don't feel as if they're alone as they struggle simply to survive.



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