Dark.

I don't have a better title for this blog entry.  I'll apologize in advance to those who come here looking for a light hearted view of things.  They exist, honest...just not posted.  That alone tells me that my view of things is/has become skewed, and needs to be adjusted.

Some days, its just so hard.  Insomnia has struck again, leaving me vulnerable emotionally.

I spent most of last night sobbing.  Pain was rampant, both physically and emotionally.  I'm in my 30s, and all I can see stretching out before me is pain. Pain, pain, and more pain.  The only 'break' I get is when I manage to sleep, but that's fleeting, broken, and can't be counted on.  There's absolutely no rhyme or reason for sleep, or not sleeping.  I do the same things, and never know if I'll sleep.

I'm not the woman, wife, or mother that I want to be.  I fall so short on what I demand of myself.  Everything in my life is dependant upon pain levels, and I loathe it.  I want to be able to live, without the uncertainty that RSD brings.  I want to turn back time and not ever have gone into that resident's room that grabbed me and started all of this.  I wonder, in the darkest recesses of my heart what I did wrong.  What I'm being punished for.

There have been times that I've considered leaving my family.  Not suicide, just leaving.  Clearing out so that a healthy, whole woman can fill the spot of wife and mother.  But I don't.  I don't because I believe that would damage my children more than having a lesser mother in their lives.  I may not be whole and able, but I think that leaving would tell them that they weren't worth staying for.  And not for the world would I ever want to wound my babies that way.

That's what I tell myself...But sometimes I wonder if its my selfishness talking.  That I need them more than they need me.  Because I do need them.  They're my reasons why.  Why I do anything, everything.  Its for them that I put one foot in front of the other.

They don't see me cry.  Nor does Wolf.  He *knows* I hurt of course, as do the children...but none of them know how badly.  I need to protect them as best I can.  I believe that if they knew, it would scare them terribly to see Mommy fall apart.

So I do my crying in the wee hours of the morning, when insomnia reigns supreme, leaving me defenceless.  I acknowledge the dark thoughts that I bury so deep.  I suppose I wallow for a bit might be the best and most honest way to put it.  Then I wipe my face, blow my nose, and face the coming day.

Its just so hard sometimes.  Wondering what damage I might be doing to my babies.  Wondering if I'm doing the right thing for them.  Wondering how much is really for them, and how much is my selfishness shining through.

I pray that I'm doing what's right for them.  I don't know what else I can do.