So Tired

Every day is a battle.  I battle myself to get out of bed.  I dread getting out of bed because of what the day might hold.

I walk on eggshells trying to keep everyone happy.   Trying to be perfect.  Trying not to mess up.  Inside I’m screaming…some days wishing I would die, but my kids need me.  I can’t do to them what my dad did to us.  

But every day, some flaw is found or made up so that I can be yelled at and belittled.  I fight back but it falls on deaf ears.  I’m always crying, always apologizing.  I feel an inch tall.  Worthless.  Unloved.  On a knife’s edge.

Then every night, it’s an apology.   It’s begging and telling me I’m needed and loved.  Like an idiot, I believe it each time.   

I’m so beaten down.  My strength is dwindling.   I close my eyes to restless sleep.  The days and fights replaying in my head.  And I know no matter what I say or do, it won’t change.  

My health is awful.  I’m depressed even though I try to put on a happy face.  I can see the weariness and sickness in my reflection.  I feel it.  I’m always tense so I always ache.  

I’m scared.  I’m tired.  I’m beyond sad that I can’t even think of the word for it.   I fight and fight.  My armor is heavy.   My weapons dulled from use.  My spirit nearly broke.  The flame that fuels me barely flickering. 

I’ll be nothing but a puppet soon.  Maybe then I’ll be perfect enough for everyone.  I’ll be quiet. I can’t/won’t fight back.  They can do with me as they wish.   No more free will.  No more fight left in me.