There are days, lots of days, when I get such a sick feeling in the pit of my tummy, I just want to cry.

There are days when I feel so sad and lost and I don’t remember how I got here. But I want to go home. And then I realize … I AM home. Darn.

There are moments when it’s all SO OVERWHELMING I don’t even know where to begin. The way my living room looks at the end of the day? Very similar to how my emotions are these days. And GAH where do I start putting away all this crap? And why bother when it’s just going to get strewn about again tomorrow.

There are times when I feel so undervalued and underappreciated … when I feel so ugly and fat … when I feel embarassed just to be me … when I think what is the point to all this anyway? Stupid and small, that’s how I feel.

I’ve always been prone to depression. My mom is probably bipolar and it never fails to make me crazy, trying to make her happy. Trying to keep her on an even keel. I know it’s not my job. But it doesn’t stop me from trying.

I’m very good at ignoring problems until they go away. But there are some problems that are willing to wait, ready to pounce with their stinking, hot breath, and their sharp, venomous claws.

Sometimes I think I want to be someone else, like this wasn’t the life I was supposed to live. Sometimes I think it would be such a relief to get out of this skin and try on someone else’s for a change. But I know, in my heart of hearts, that the grass isn’t always greener on the other side. And that everyone hides hurt. No one is safe from worry.

I’ll be ok. Not today. But maybe tomorrow.