My story isn't inspirational or even one that people can learn from.
My story isn't inspirational or even one that people can learn from. I'm 42 years old, newly single mother of two sons. On disability benefits from my work, due to my diagnosis of bipolar, anxiety and severe depression. I have Hashimoto's disease as well.
My husband left me two years ago as he didn't sign up to have a sick wife. After multiple affairs he found one to his liking and moved me and my children out of our home.
I battle life and death everyday. I think of death everyday. I imagine it's like going under for surgery, you just go black. I know how. I think of it everyday. I know where. I think of it everyday. I have not written any letters of explanation. Because I think of my beautiful sons who seem to always interrupt my drifts into how and where I will go into the black. How could I possibly leave two incredible creatures who need me to find their lucky reds socks, or their favourite ball hats or heal their wounds. Give them a hug or put them to bed. Love them. Who else would do that other than me.
So I forge on trying to find a new place for myself a new definition of myself that does not include "used" wife. I need to volunteer or find a hobby. Perhaps writing?
Until then I have found that reasons to live everyday are right in front of me, I don't have to look very far. And slowly not everyday am I plagued with thoughts of where or how.
My story isn't over yet.