I’m done with this feeling. I need to break out of it.
I’m done with my mother worrying about her distant daughter.
I’m done with people thinking I’m not coping.
I’m done with friends who don’t see me as a friend anymore.
I’m done with fretting about being a good mother. At the moment I’m just ‘good enough’.
I’m done with my husband not being happy. He’s fought this fight with me.
I’m done with wishing things were different.
I’m done with the tummy flips and fears.
Getting hopes up and then the crashing blows, I definitely done with that.
I’m done with being that person. I want to be happy. I want the people around me to be happy. I know I’m not bringing that for them.
All I know is my boy makes me the happiest I can ever be, when I am with him.
Let me start there. I’ll figure out the rest.
But I’m done. I’m done with this girl.