I have truly thought I was making progress; even significantly over the past few years. Who the fuck even am I to kid myself? I just woke up and wanted to unplug myself and never wake up, or, tear my skin to pieces. I’m weak. 


All I’ve ever wanted was to be a good mother. These past 5 years I’ve (attempted and successfully) gotten sober, in therapy, up with all of my doctors appointments, got into therapy, medicated. You name it. I wanted the best for my future baby. 

Here I am again. Proving to myself all these years later than my diagnosis is just sitting on my shoulder hiding, and waiting to remind me I’m weak and will never be strong enough to be a good mother. Let alone a functioning human. 

I’m officially convinced these feelings will never go away.