She knows I’m breaking down, she knows I’m drowning in my own ocean of regret, guilt and isolation. She knows how I’m struggling just to even get out of the house, to make the step forward. She knows I’m stuck and I need a push. She knows there is no one to push me. That I’m broken.
But she will feel that to support me will wreck all her hard work. She will think I have to do this by myself. As hard it is for her to know she is looking at the bigger picture. The greater good.
But what if I can’t? If I can’t this is the end of my life. I am aware I’m not as young as I was. I’ve been knocked down before. How many times can you keep getting back up? I am aware there is a good chance I will succumb to my family genes and become my father. If nothing changes I already have. I communicate with no one. I cannot think of a soul that cares and that’s a massive statement.
I am so lacking in any support of any kind. I am alone. With myself and by myself. No one to reach out to. I am so scared, I hope the Monster doesn’t get me.
I am not unrealistic enough to know the chances of failure are higher than ever before.