I need to write.
I really just need to write.
There are some things that I have been really humiliated by these past few months.
But I have denied it long enough.
I need to start living again.
Tomorrow is going to be a new day.
Along with the curls in my hair and the baby on my hip, I'm also going to have acceptance.
Acceptance and embracement.
I am going to embrace life, even though I have
I don't know when it began. I don't even know where the past almost seven months have gone. I'm still not accustomed to looking in the mirror and not seeing myself swollen up like a balloon. As happy as I am to have my body back, at times, I feel like I've lost my inner self. Sometimes, I feel trapped in my own swirling, unending panopticon. Part of it has been due to our former living conditions. Do you have any idea how difficult it is to raise a baby in a teeny tiny house with no dishwasher or functioning washing machine? Or how it became so hot in June and July that we couldn't let Lily sleep in her crib because her bedroom was just too hot? I won't even mention how frustrating buying a house has been. I know everyone has their trials, but this one has absolutely consumed me the past few months and I often wondered how I was supposed to resurface after what felt like drowning. But tomorrow is a new day. Tomorrow, I am getting help. Tomorrow, I am going to accept it all.