As the TV blared last night, and I started getting fuzzy, I gave up and lost myself in my voices. I didn’t cry. I just listened to the rants and the belittling, the heartbreak and the fast whispers. It has now seeped outside of my head, and I can hear a frantic newborn baby cry, so I listened to it, too. I was so close to just covering my ears and folding into fetal position, but that won’t get me away from THEM. It  will never get me away from THEM.

I can’t remember what it was like before the constant noise. When my life was “normal.” My life before my kids is a blur to me, which sometimes I miss, but I don’t miss it enough anymore to want to venture back there.

You know, I never got to live out my 20s like most do? Never got to go out with friends and just be myself. Never got to just hang out on a random night having a few drinks…or even a coffee. Never being part of my own crowd. Never just looking for a job I really wanted while trying to finish school. I was thrust into motherhood unexpectedly; forced to abandon finishing college; treated like a diseased freak that no one would give the time of day; and ended up with an abusive man.

My life is now being a mom to more kids than I bargained for, forced to work, partially college educated…and living miserably AND with mental issues that started from tragedy and already existing depression. How wonderful. But I digress.

As I was huddled in the corner of my mind with all of THEM hovering over me for their own reasons, I waited for something, nothing to pull me out. I blankly looked at my husband from within as he sat blissfully unaware and uncaring of what I really go through. The ever-growing noise of the children and their constant fighting filling the air as well. I can’t get away. There’s NEVER silence.

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