Some days I don’t know if I can do any of this.
Not the grieving.
Not the parenting.
Not the letting go.
Not the rebuilding.
I sit with these big questions—
Why does it seem so easy for him to move on?
Why am I still holding the weight of everything while he only carries himself?
I try to keep going.
I still show up, still try to be the calm in the storm for my boys, still try to write, still try to make something out of the ache.
But sometimes, it just hurts.
And I don’t know what comes next.
I just know I’m here.
“This is not a test of strength. It’s a season of survival.”
So if you’re reading this and you feel like you’re barely holding it together—
I’m with you.
I’m not offering a solution.
Just this:
- You’re not weak for feeling everything.
- You’re not behind.
- You’re still in it.
- And that matters.
Some days the comeback is loud.
Other days it’s just breathing.
Today, that’s enough.