It's almost 1am. I'm listening to my husband snore on the couch. We haven't had sex in 50 days. Yes I'm counting. I'm pregnant. Week 21. On day 7 of Covid. Feeling a bit better. Have been texting an ex things I'll regret because that's what I do when I'm sad and overwhelmed and want to be thought of even if it's negatively it's all better than feeling invisible.
I've given up caring but am trying to survive. From the outside it looks like I have it all, probably. House in a HCOL area. Two kids with one on the way. What else could I need?
I'm such a trainwreck. I just want someone to talk to, who understands. I spend most of the time thinking about how marvelous death would be -- not the act of dying, or the impact on my family -- but being gone. Not having to feel anymore. Not having to be this massive mess that I am. I'm tired and over everything. Nothing seems to matter but the pendulum momentum of counting the days. I am so so lonely.
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- 10 months ago
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