The last time I had a year this trying, I tried to kill myself. Literally. I wanted to die. I figured dying had to be less painful. Thank God I failed!!! It was the first time I ever appreciated failure... I got the help I needed, and now I help those in need. I'm in a much better place now. So no, suicidal thoughts aren't floating around my head. In fact, I'm hopeful. So much so, that I'm excited to see what 2019 has in store for me. 2018 forced me to grow mentally, emotionally and spiritually. The woman I am today is stronger and wiser than the woman who started this blog. I've been betrayed, unemployed, back-stabbed, lied on and cheated. I was used and manipulated. I was cast out and misquoted. I have grieved the death of a friend and the death of a relationship . I have stayed up at night worrying about people I care about the most. I have had hiccups and upsets all while navigating the day-to-day life of a wife/mom/teacher. And yet... I...
I didn't want to. And I almost didn't make me. I didn't want to leave my bed. The truth was, I could use some extra sleep. I didn't want to shower. I didn't want to wash away anything...memories in particular. I didn't want to be a wife. Or a mom. Or a teacher. I wanted to be left alone with my thoughts. My thoughts. Wild thoughts. Racing thoughts. Rage-filled thoughts. I was confused, hurt and angry. Friday night I couldn't sleep. I was engulfed by a pain that I've only felt twice before. The first was two-weeks after my C-section. It was at this time that my lupus, which was dormant my entire pregnancy, decided to wake back up. The second time was on February 15, 2018. The night a friend and his toddler sob lost their lives in an act of reckless violence that left an entire community heartbroken. This Friday, I didn't fall asleep until 2 a.m. . When it feels as though you're being electrocuted, sleep is ever evasive. I be...