I’m so stressed I feel I could vomit. I’m trying really hard not to think about it. I’m trying really hard to let go. I don’t know what has changed in the last year, but I can’t seem to take it as well as I used to. I want to escape, I want to hide. I feel like the walls are closing in, this space is getting smaller. I feel like I could puke, I feel like I could…
I remind myself that things could be worse. I tell myself there are people who are in a way more terrible situation than I am. I try to see that I have a roof over my head, I have food to eat, a car to drive, and a job to work. I have all the necessities. I have everything I NEED.
“Stop your complaining. Wipe those tears away.” I tell myself sternly. “You’re doing OK. Everything will be OK.” I’m just having a hard time seeing that on a regular basis and even as I write this, even as I tell myself these things, I’m still sick to my stomach. I’m still gripped with fear.
I try not to think about the fact she is trying to take our little girl away. I try not to think about the unavoidable debt that is starting to pile up. I try not to think about the hard years to come (only 3 more, right? 4 max). But can I do another 4 like this? I need to find something to relieve my stress. Some way to feel my escape. I feel like the years keep stretching. Even though we’re closer now, it feels further than ever.
I think I’ll go to sleep early tonight. Maybe sleep will have to be my escape.


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