I am spacious expanding

It is so very hard to describe how it feels when tragedy is served on regular basis, over and over and over again. It's almost like you're just a shell, hollow and fragile. A thin crust masquerading as the person that you once were. I wish I could say that my will to live again, to be happy, to be a good mother is ultimately what won and filled in a bit of the emptiness. I wish. I honestly think fear deserves more credit than the testament of my spirit. Fear of losing more, fear of never living again, never being the person that I used to be, the person that I can be, want to be. Fear of who I had become. It's been an ugly pitiful journey. I am too tired to grieve any more. I am missing too much. I am a child of the universe and deserve serenity.

And in my struggle to become myself, I have become someone else.