Her heart is crushing in unbearable weight. Days like this go by torturously slow yet time doesn’t ever seem to keep pace. It does what it does best, making her feel out of breath. Like she’s not already gasping for air. Not that anyone could ever notice, her suffering is never overt.

Her heart is doused in acid. She wishes she could vomit all the pain out. Wishes someone cuts her chest open so she bleeds all the dread out. Someone, someone else has to do it. She can never do it herself. If she could this could’ve ended long before. 

Her mind is endlessly filled with fear. Fear that for certain she will fail. She’s never done anything better than fail. Every single day. Every. Single. Day. She’d cast herself a look of disapproval, yet again. “When will you ever change? Almost one year has passed and you haven’t accomplished anything. Nothing has changed. Not your weight, not your hideous, disgusting body. Not your unstable emotions and your pathetic mind.” How is the coming year going to be any different? How is she going to handle all the change that is going to happen in her life? Is she ever going to have enough time? Time slips away like sand from her nervous, shaky hands. Can she ever be the person the people around her need? Is she ever enough to be the mother her son needs? Will she ever be the kind of person she needs to be – for herself?

She lay on the bed crying, back towards the crib. Her son lead himself to sleep as she curled into a ball under the blankets. Her body feels depleted. Her mind is dry and weak. Her heart is just so exhausted.