I never thought I’d be where I am today. Broken, alone in a marriage I never wanted, a mom [which I wouldn’t change], a broken mind, and feeling more like a failure than ever before. How did I fall this far off track from the goals I set for myself?
Growing up, I wanted to finish college; be a surgeon; become a part of doctors without borders; travel the world as a writer/artist in my free time; live in Japan for a while. But, alas, I am stuck in the state I’ve been in my whole life, with half a college education (that I certainly can’t afford to finish), and a job I love but isn’t my dream. I once had high hopes for myself, but now I struggle just to stay alive day-to-day.
My husband doesn’t understand what I go through day in and day out. He doesn’t feel the pain, nor does he hear the horrid noise and torture that has plagued me for years. I doubt he’s ever been ambitious, and he lives blissfully unaware of how miserable I really am within the confines of my own home, if I can even call it that anymore.
I dream of one day, at least, being able to havING enough energy and drive to do the things I once loved. I want that be able to read a book cover to cover again, rather than read some and let the rest sit for months because I can’t focus on it. I want inspiration to draw and be without worry that someone will ruin it. I want to be able to enjoy being outside and maybe going on a hike or a run again (once I get into shape). These are the things I lost within myself.
I’m merely a shell of who I used to be with echoes of anger and depression, psychotic and morbid thoughts. What kind of monster have I become?