Today, I can breathe a little better, as I try to cope with the events of the last few days. I still feel like my heart is in a vise, and each turn of the screw grips my heart tighter in darkness and despair, in shame and in pain.
I can’t speak of what it is, just what it feels like -failure. I am broken again.
I hold on to my husband’s hand in sleep, grateful for the constancy of his presence and support. I may be broken, but it is his love that heals me a bit every night.
And I sear these words in my brain and remind myself to be grateful for my life, however dark it may seem right now.