Thursday, August 23, 2018

The monsters under my bed.

Most nights I fall asleep right at 11. I'll tell the mister goodnight, turn out the light and that's all she wrote.

At least once a week though, and often leading to a 2-3 day stretch, I fall off that routine and find myself sitting at the top of the steps watching the front door and listening to my babies snore softly until closer to 1 AM.

Will Logan's aneurysm burst in his sleep and I won't hear him cry out? I sleep through everything. I've slept through earthquakes.

What if Lou gets out of his room by some Houdini type magic act and get lost out in the world?

Who's going to take care of Lou when I'm old? Will he be a higher functioning, self sufficient adult?

How am I going to pay for the kids college costs if they decide to go?

How am I going to pay for a new car?

What if their father "loses his job" conveniently when I file for modification?

What did I do wrong as a wife that he felt he didn't need to work or put forth any effort towards anything of importance?

Was I a bad wife?

Will I be a bad wife again if I ever get married?

Am I a bad person???




Why yes, as a matter of fact I *do* suffer from depression and generalized anxiety disorder, why do you ask?

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