Source: Who wins?
The undulating puking over my porch railing…
I love the release I feel when my body empties itself.
The never ending tear’s that strike from out of no where.
When will this stop?
The feeling of being is such a dark hole, I cannot climb out of.
Oh, I have heard the stories, I have read the information.
And…yet…for me the struggle continues.
I cannot hide.
In spite of all my medication and therapy…I am certain no-one has walked in my shoe’s.
I am losing my daughter…=(
My child, who I brought forth between my leg’s, wants to die.
My sweet, precious, intelligent, beautiful, soulful child cannot find her reason to live in this world.
I am broken, beyond words.
I take one step each day, one foot in front of the other, and yet my mind and heart are ever mindful of my child.
I “function”, as it is.
I put on my happy face for the outside world to see…and yet…
I know my baby girl. A beautiful girl wants to end her life because she see’s no sense in living in this fucked up image of what we all portray.
And so I puke over the railing of my front porch, yet again.
The undulating release of my anguish and pain.
Who or what really wins in the end?
Depression or anxiety or multiple diagnosis of our mind?
I pray on bended knee, my child will find some good in her soul.
She will find life worth living because she is powerful, strong, intelligent and so amazing.
I wait…puking, trying to be the “mom” I should be to impart all of my heart’s deepest love to my child.
In the end…