I saw this prompt this morning and thought that I would go to town with writing. Now it’s the end of a long, exhausting day…and all I have going on is some insomnia and a case of writers block.
I miss my children. I’ve cried so hard that I thought I would break. I’ve wanted to die so badly that it hurt.
But (unfortunately for me), I have to keep going.
Otherwise they’ll have no other options than to believe the lies that they’ve been told about me.
If I kill myself, I become the “crazy” that they grow up being told that I am.
So here I am. Living. Pursuing. Succeeding. Kicking life right in the ass.
Folks could say a lot of things about me. But I’m not crazy, and I’m not a failure.
So every day I endure. Because I have to.
Not for me. For them.