Kindness. I have blogged about that a few times before.
Kindness. My greatest strength. My greatest weakness.
Even now, 20 months post bomb.
Even now, with the divorce dragging on.
Even now, after all the awful things that have been said.
Even now, after having not seen our children for nearly two months.
Even now, I respond with kindness.
I can’t help myself.
I don’t know any other way of being.
Responding with kindness is causing me so much sorrow.
I know sorrow – the other side – deeply.
I keep hoping, praying, that one day the sorrow will end. That I will receive some kindness.
That life will get easier.
That my run of shitty luck will stop.
That my kindness. That my resolve to remain optimistic and positive in the face of the horror that is now my life. Will be rewarded.
But it is never-ending.
New problems keep surfacing.
The pile of shit keeps building and I am sinking further into it.
Nothing is going right.
I don’t know what I’ve done to deserve this.
This is not what life was supposed to be like. I didn’t want any of this. This isn’t what I signed up for.
I don’t know how much longer I can ‘keep going’, pretending life is sunshine and lollipops when in reality most days are just plain brutal, some are bearable, only a few are good.
I want to throw in the towel. Raise the white flag. Go to bed and not surface again until the sorrow ends.
I am exhausted. Emotionally and physically. I have had enough. Reached full capacity months ago. Don’t have room
to cope with more shit.
But I know I can’t give up. My babies need me. I’m all they have.
Hoping I feel a bit of kindness today. I desperately need some.