Shattered

 I am shattered. My brain is fracturing. I close my eyes and can picture harming myself. Don't worry: I'm a coward. 

Twenty years of emotional abuse. Being judged for the effects of that abuse. Lack of support. Constant crises. It has taken it's toll.

It's interesting to look back at how this year started. On January 1, I was sick. I had a cold. Or thought I did. I was wrong. I had COVID for the first time. 

I went through the entire pandemic in a 1,000 square foot house with 3 other people. Each of the others got sick with COVID at least once. I did not. I told them "I love you but I do not want to see your face for a while." And so I survived. 

The first time I went somewhere - not just since COVID but in a long time - and I got sick. It figures. 

Fast forward four months. There is no area of my life that is without strife and pain. I have lost or am in severe danger of losing everything. Every. Little. Thing. Every person. I keep checking to ensure my ancient dog hasn't died in his sleep because that's how my life is going.