Miserably.

I just saw myself spiraling down the hellish drain but I didn’t take my meds in time.

I didn’t escape in time.

I failed.

Maybe I should start over. Overstimulation and rage met today, over a mix of depression and self loathing.

It was overshadowed by the fact that my two kids, we shall here forth call them the boy and the girl, were very needy for their depressed riddled mommy.

So like a good mommy fighting a losing battle I fought for my kids and sat with them watching veggie tales and that’s when the evil monster hit me hard.

I closed my eyes and prayed, with every climb into and out of my lap I prayed. Then I had to clench my eyes.

The tears came.

The gentle playful tug of my son climbing back into my lap hurt my skin so badly I cried that deep soulful cry quietly.

I didn’t want to scare them.

Then my daughter turned to look at me; hands covering my face teeth biting my bottom lip. “Mommy you praying?”

“Mm-hmm”; was all I could reply as her voice grated my ears. Making the tears fall faster.

Will this pain stop God please?

Then.

My failure.

For the 100th time my son fell off my lap playfully and my daughter turned to give me something.

I melted down and scared my babies. “STOP TOUCHING ME!!!”

My husband came into the room and took the kids away.

…….

I should’ve walked away sooner, I should’ve known I couldn’t handle it. I should’ve…..been better.

God.

Why.

After crying and finishing my meltdown, I went to the kids to console them. Then we had the talk that I’ve been avoiding for 3 years. “The mommys sick” talk.

The boy took it well, I don’t think the girl understood. We’ll just hafta see.

I hope I don’t screw them up.

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