I'm WEAK

I've never thought of myself as a weak person. I've always considered myself a survivor, a scrapper if you will, taking adversity in stride, trying to make the best of it. A professor of mine once gave me this sage advice: You're either green and growing, or you're ripe and rotting. I've always prided myself on being a lush, healthy tomato plant, but lately I think that the groundwater pollution has finally gotten to me.



I've always been a good student, a good wife, a good provider, a good mother...coincidentally, my downward spiral started right around the time I started working at the crappy dead-end job. Fucking night job. Night jobs can go to hell and die. 4 hours of sleep a night would turn Mother Theresa into a raving bitch.

I'm slowly clawing my way back from my Chernobyl-esque downfall, trying to make it right, trying to figure out what underlying issues I have that would explain my behavior and general lack of motivation...I want to be good, I want to do the right things...but I'm just so fucking unhappy I don't know where to even start.