A broken heart

Do you know what it feels like to have your heart broken?

Walking quickly to the bathroom with tears streaming down your face with your five year old following behind you quietly saying “it’s going to be ok mommy”.

That is what it feels like to have your heart broken. I always said I had my heart broken by a guy before. That was like a paper cut compared to this.

It’s one thing to be depressed. It’s one thing for others to know about it. It’s a whole different thing when your children are forced into this position. I’m not being the kind of mother my daughters deserve. And it hurts. You have no idea how much it hurts.

I’m now writing this in my bathroom because I’m crying again. They are happily in the living room watching a movie and they, hopefully, have no idea that I feel I am falling apart right now.

I don’t want you all to get the wrong idea. I’m actually doing alright right now. Yesterday I had a “crazy” day, I “drank” too much emotion, made bad decisions. Today I am hung over. I’m tired, feeling sick, and forced to deal with these scars. Read into that whatever way you want.

I’m just upset that I’m hurting my children. I honestly try my hardest to do the best for them, but I don’t feel it’s enough.  All I want for them is to be able to say when they are older that they “had a normal childhood”. It doesn’t have to be different or outstanding, just normal. I’m trying to give that to them, I wish I knew if I am.