ugly version of me
It feels like an ugly version of me.
Emotionally crippled by the self questioning,
Categorically trying to absorb all points of view,
As they come flooding in,
Not at a trickle pace,
But at speed,
And you’re left holding your breathe as the levels rise around you,
Just hoping you’ve enough air left to plunge through another moment in this life you lead.
Because the stakes are so high.
The force is all the more powerful.
You have everything to lose,
Which has not been taken from you already.
And to trust in yourself,
That the right decisions were made,
That you’ve done enough,
Not missing out on vital,
Life changing opportunities,
Is the hardest lesson of all.
The answer is,
It’s never enough,
Despite the gains that fill your heart with profound hope,
For they can simply vanish in an instant,
The moment a therapists says the wrong thing,
The second you drive by a kid climbing a tree,
A Facebook feed filled with the catalogue family,
The sports day,
The baby’s first step video.
That you sink a little bit lower,
Feel a little less human,
The trust you’ve been clinging onto for dear life,
Is ripped from your hands,
And the fretting begins again,
What else can I be doing,
What if he doesn’t get any better than this moment right now?
Could I go on?
How do I go on?
The doubt alone is enough to consume you.
Nothing seems fair.
And comfort hard to find.
You are their mum,
Yet you are their everything,
And you feel that weight,
Every ounce of it.
And it feels like being frightened all the time.
Fighting a battle you already lost.
Or standing alone at the edge of who you wanted to be.