Hidden Demons

Hidden Demons

I laid on the sofa, thinking of everything that’s happened lately. The rush of emotions overtook me, and I just started crying.

It was the perfect day to do it. I had taken the day off. I was completely alone. My husband was out of town, would be back early enough to pick up the kids. He would come home first, and get the note, alone. He would be able to have time to process what happened before picking up the kids. He would find the body and have it removed before the kids saw. W wouldn’t remember me. S would only have a few memories of me.

W locked S out of the bathroom this morning. She melted down because she was afraid of being separated from me, that she would never see me again. I opened up the door and hugged her and told her I would always be here for her. I lied to her to calm her down. What happens if I’m not strong enough?

I answered no to a question that I should have answered yes to. I said I was ok, when I really wanted to say that I was scared and needed someone to sit with me. That in that moment, I needed someone to tell me I was wanted. I said I wasn’t going to do it, when more than anything I wanted to.

I took a walk, figuring either it would be the last walk, or it would calm me down. I remembered how close we were to Christmas. That more than anything, I want my kids to have a happy Christmas. That I didn’t want them to have to bury me before it. It’s something to keep me going. But after that, what is there? I live from one small milestone to the next, not knowing what will be that thing I need to have hope in to make it to the next day.

My husband asked me what I wanted for Christmas. The truth is nothing… I’m not sure how much longer after Christmas I can make it. I don’t want stuff bought specifically for me, just to have to give it away after I die.

There’s so much to talk about, so many hidden demons that have been stuffed in a small closet. I can’t keep the door shut. Anytime one thing is remembered, everything overwhelms me.

I’m exhausted from the crying and fighting the thoughts. And the exhaustion is making it harder to fight everything. It’s a vicious cycle. And I’m losing.

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