Sometimes

Sometimes, I feel like I don’t want to burden you with my problems, especially since you have so much of your own to deal with in which I can’t help you.

Sometimes, I just want to talk and I want you to listen. I don’t want advice or a berating for all the wrong I have done.

Sometimes, I just want to scream and shout and sob and until there’s nothing left.

Sometimes, I hate myself.

Sometimes, I wonder what kind of mother, a role model, I will be to my two girls when I feel so down and depressed and useless.

Sometimes, I think I’m a rubbish mum that can’t control and look after her two children.

Sometimes, I think having two kids was a very selfish thing to do.

Sometimes, I know I have to pull myself together and get on with it but I just can’t be bothered.

But then I hug my two girls. I feel their warm little bodies cuddle up to me in their sleep and I realise how lucky I am to have them. I know somehow, in some way, everything will be ok.

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