I want to be able to eat tomatoes and peppers and onions. To enjoy milkshakes and ice cream and the occasional beer without getting violently ill.
I want to not look so tired. So defeated.
I want to get through 24 hours without an argument. Without a fight. Without crying.
I want to feel comfortable in my own home. I'm not.
I run away. To work. To the store. Sometimes, I just drive as fast as I can as far as I need to. Until the urge to hurt someone or myself passes.
Life has chewed me up and spit me out and sometimes I wonder if there is any of "me" still here. I want to find her. I just don't know how.
I've been there, Sheryl. I hope things have gotten better. :(
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