Dare to Be Hopeful?

It was just seven days or so ago that I was hating myself. Do I still hate myself? Not quite. I'm not confident - I'm not anything.

Do I dare to be hopeful? The last session we had, he said he was leaning towards moving back home. I will believe it when I see it, I suppose.

Today I had the strongest urge to call him and just discuss the day - not that that was anything too important - but just someone to have some back and forth with. We i'md one line today, not much. I'm the one who reached out first so I figure beyond that, he'd call, right?

In just a few more days, the big event will be here. And God, how much I hope for it to all work out. I don't imagine I could take much more disappointment. Perhaps I've come to my tipping point in what I can handle. Doc says look at what I've been through - father's death at a young age, mother's stroke and now my husband leaving me - and I still function. There are moments though that I feel like absolutely giving up - I feel tired, tired of being responsible, tired of continuing to move forward regardless of how sad I feel.

And worst of all, for this time around, I feel most alone. Isn't that weird? You'd think as an ony child latchkey kid growing up - that would be the worst - and in many ways it was awful, but now, feeling rejected at this age, maybe I'm just taking it harder.

Oh well. We'll see where the day takes us...