Mr F Stayed Home Today And That Is Saying Something

It could have to do with finding me keening on the bedroom floor

I'm not doing well, and I'm not in the space to even pretend that I am

the tornado, and the construction, and the insurance fights, and the contractor mishaps, which all result in a needed hypervigilance that I no longer have the energy for

and Mr F left on a business trip to San Francisco, followed directly by his being gone all the following week for 'closing week', then without a breath in between I was sent to girl scout prison camp, and now Mr F is preparing to leave for France...

all tidying up one of the worst months of my life

and I'm still having to do all the stuff, the homeschooling, and cooking, and laundry, and grocery shopping, and bill paying, and construction management

and worrying about the workmanship and the money

and how much I just want to go back in time have this never have happened

and I just don't have anything left inside

when things go bad I'm always left alone

it feels like the most horrifically long fight to the death

and it turns out they're winning

and I'm dying

to top it all off I had the roofers throw away our DirecTV satellite...  and now all I want in the world is to lie on the coach cloaked in a blanket and watching mindless TV

and there is that part of me that always appears competent and on top of things

and so no one sees, not even Mr F

that, really, I need the help