Dying Day

Today a little part of me died. I can hardly begin to explain what today has felt like. I have maintained my functionality. I have maintained some semblance of sanity and haven't broken down. I left her today, twice. Each time was hard. Each time was like the whole world was falling apart around me and she was standing there, in the middle of it all. Crying.

I keep questioning my decisions. I keep hoping that what I'm doing is correct. But then, how in the hell will I ever know for sure? I'll only be able to try and feel good about this situation, knowing that, in the long run, it's better for both her and me.

I moved out enough of my "stuff" today so I can survive here, at my mother's home. I didn't want to come here. Not because I didn't like the thought. More because I didn't want to re-invade my mother's life. But then, as she's said, I'm always welcome. So here I am, and I'm hoping it's not for too too long. I'm "getting on my feet".

I fall apart inside every few seconds. It feels like my dying day.