This is Just How it is Right Now


Just keeping it real, people. This is how I’ve looked most of the last three days because, yes, ugly-crying is most of what I’ve been doing the last three days. I don’t think I’ll be posting for awhile. How can I talk about hope when I don’t have any anymore. I clung to hope because it was the only thing keeping me afloat. But I’ve realized that everything I had hope in was false. And I can’t do false hope anymore. It hurts more than not believing at all. See, no matter how hard I have tried to do what’s right, no matter how hard I have tried to make my life the way I want it, the way I need it, the way I know it’s supposed to be, I have failed. I have done nothing but sabotage myself. I have brought nothing but pain and hurt into my life. My hope is gone.

I’m to the point where I just don’t care anymore. It’s that numb feeling that overtakes everything else. I will not take my own life because that is the easy way out, and I never do things the easy way, the easy way has eluded me my whole life. And I will not deprive my children of a mother. But if someone came along and stabbed a knife in my gut, I wouldn’t care. If someone shot a bullet into my brain, I wouldn’t care. If someone pushed me off the edge of a cliff, I’d open my arms and soar on the way down, because I wouldn’t care. My hope is gone.

And please, those of you who know me, don’t call or text and ask if I’m okay, because obviously I am not. But I will live. I will keep going. I will do what I have to do, well, because I have to. That is all.

8 thoughts on “This is Just How it is Right Now

  1. I know it doesn’t help, but please know Em, Josh and I think of you and your family often. A couple days ago, they commented on how you seem to have blossomed since those days in Kaysville. From here (I’m waaaay down the road you’re on) I can tell you only that along with everything else, you are amid the longest, shortest time of your life. If you can’t do anything else, hug your kids closer. Everything changes. Promise. xoxo h.

    Liked by 1 person

  2. These hopeless times are the worst, they are so painful and suck the life right out of you. I can relate to feeling like your hope has all been false and in vain. I’m sorry you’re going through such a tough times. Thank you for your blog and the authenticity you express and the understanding about mental illness that you spread, you’ve made a big difference in my life.

    Liked by 1 person

  3. I’m so sorry it hurts so much right now. I hear you, I see you, I feel you. Please know that you don’t have to pretend to have hope when you don’t, it’s okay to be exactly who, and how, you are. Anyone who asks anything else of you isn’t being fair or respectful. Of course no one (no one who matters anyway) wants you to hurt like this, but that doesn’t mean we don’t still love you exactly as you are. If writing helps, write. If blogging it helps, then by all means blog it. It’s the authenticity that you show to us that makes your writing and your words so powerful. Hope can be beautiful and inspiring, but sadness and pain are powerful in their own right. So don’t hide just because the hope isn’t somewhere you can see it right now, you are so very loved no matter what.

    Liked by 1 person

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