Site icon Something Worth Fighting For: Life Goes On

I’m not okay.

Am I allowed to say that? Am I allowed to be that honest? I know that with the shit I write, I’m clearly not okay, I’m not pretending to be. But am I allowed to be so bold as to just say it?

Like… I’m fucking not okay right now. I’m not. I had a decent few hours today and I thought it would be fine. I thought I’d convinced myself that I would be okay and get through it.

But yet here tonight is. And it’s been shit. Add alcohol into the mix and of course that makes it loads better.

Can I spell it out for you all? I’m just going to do that. I don’t care anymore. Here’s what’s up, friends.

Both my kids (I lied, 2/3 of my kids) have a rare form of myopathy, which is basically muscular dystrophy, and they got it from me. Which means I have it too, and 12 surgeries and a fuck ton of pain later, sorry kids. I knew I shouldn’t have reproduced. It was selfish, and I’m sorry. But I didn’t know.

Their lifespan is questionable at best, and they have both been having a hard time lately. So, as a mom, that’s just like…super awesome to watch. (Shit, if you don’t know me yet…sarcasm is my thing. Please don’t think I actually enjoy this.)

I was raped in one of many instances of sexual assault over the past few months by a family member. Yup. There it is. He’s a family member. And that’s all I have to say about that right now.

I see him relatively frequently. At least weekly. And it just doesn’t fucking stop.

My birth son…yeah, you know him? My #1 out of 3…well, he’s some hot shit now. He’ll be on the news early next week. It will be the first time I’ve seen him on video, actually speaking and communicating in years. And no, I’m sorry, I’m no okay. (And yet I’ve told no one about this yet, despite it absolutely destroying me.)

My life is shit. I hate it. I hate that I have to deal with all of this every second of every day. Friends, that’s not even all of it. (I hope you don’t mind that I call you that, ‘friends’, but that’s what it feels like. Or, at least it feels good to think of it that way.)

That’s just the top 3.

I’m sorry. I’m not okay.

“I’ll be fine, I always am.” But like…can I just fucking say it? I’m a wreck, I want to die, and I’m so sick of waking up and facing the burden of ALL of this on my own.

Tonight isn’t the end.

I’m fine. I’m not going to do anything stupid. I mean, I’ll drink myself into oblivion and probably do some other dumb shit, but I have rules. If I didn’t, I’d be dead already.

It’s just absolutely fucking brutal…as most of them are lately.

But I can’t speak for any other day…. I can’t speak for tomorrow.

All I can say is that for tonight, for this hour…as wrong as things feel…I’ll at least see tomorrow.

And I just fucking hope tomorrow is just at least slightly better.

Because I am very quickly losing ground and losing hope.

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