I recently made a promises to myself to write something every day until I no longer can.
I got nothing. Just sadness.
The things weighing on me are too much to state here, but they’re weighing heavy.
I love my kids, but I don’t want them to see me like this.
Having them in my house while spiraling is difficult, with the holiday, the kid’s birthday, the employment situation, and the feeling of inevitability of losing the house.
That’s not even the biggest issue affecting me.
That is for later; the retrospective, once the nightmare is all over.
I believe an endgame for all of this on the horizon after the New Year.
There.
I wrote.