Boom

The older I get, the more tightly sandwiched I get, the more I feel like an angsty powder keg ready to explode. Between the migraines and anxiety-induced chest pains, it feels like I am dynamite waiting to be set off.

I can’t be the only middle aged mother and daughter to feel this way. Between my own mental health issues of depression, anxiety, and PTSD (from two rapes in my late teens), my parents’ declining health, siblings with substance abuse issues and/or personality/mood disorders, and children with neurological delays, I feel like I’m going to explode.

It’s not like I can really talk to anybody in my inner circle about it, either. They’re partly contributing to my stress, and they can’t help that. Everyone has issues. Everyone has baggage.

I guess it’s entirely possible that everyone else feels like exploding,too. Fuckity fuck fuck.

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