Sunday night ~ the worst night of the week for me.
In all honesty, I do not do so well any night but ~ for some odd reason~ Sunday is the worst.
Comes right down to being scared, and the real kicker ~ I feel alone.
**sigh** I am surrounded by people, but at night, when I get in bed, no distractions. I hate it. My brain turns on and BOOM. Tears.
Seems everyone thinks I’m strong, I’m brave, I know what I’m doing … **snort**
I’m not any of those.
I’m just me. I cry, I wonder, I scream… and (HA!) I curse. I lay in my bed at night and try to find the reasons that I must go through all this shit.
I don’t find any. It is what it is.
Monday morning, I get up and get on with my life, doing the best I can, and making every day count.
Just when Sunday night rolls around…
Guess I really am a creature of habit.
It’s poo. All freakin’ POO.
yeah, I’ll be okay, I always am.