I should feel happy. But I don’t. I should feel grateful. But I don’t. I feel an incredibly overwhelming sadness right now. Sadness that neither my husband or I having any family that we are close to. For not really having much of a family to offer our daughter. I’m mad at myself that I don’t feel more grateful. More loved. More happiness. I cried in the shower this morning. I’m sitting in a red polka-dotted towel still crying. I can’t seem to shake this melancholy.
My husband asked me what I wanted to do today. I can’t even come up with any kind of answer. I whispered “I don’t know” while holding back another round of tears.
All I see is responsibility. Dishes to be done. Laundry to be folded. Meals to be made. House to be cleaned. Diapers to be changed. Dog to be walked. The list is endless. Where does that leave room for fun? For me?
I’m so tired of the endless sadness.
What No One Told Me 