I’m guilty of letting myself fall back into the dark place.
The place where my heads so full of doubt and memories of all my trauma drown me
Consumed by the thoughts, I’ll let it control my day to day
Melting into my bed each night, questioning my life

How long would it take for someone to notice if I didn’t wake up?
Who would be there to love and provide for my daughter?

Is all my pain and worries some type of karma that I brought to myself?

If I died right now, would my daughter even know who I was?
Will I ever accomplish my goals?
Will I make my daughter proud?

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I wrote this a little over a year ago.

No one knew how deep I was in it. I didn’t talk about it—I just carried it quietly.
Reading it now, I can still feel exactly where I was.

And what I didn’t realize then is that not too much longer after writing this… I started thinking about creating a blog.

I didn’t have answers. I didn’t feel strong. I just needed somewhere to put what I was feeling.

That became Raw Mothering.

And looking back now, this is where it really started.

Not from having it all together—
but from being in a place I didn’t know how to get out of.

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I’m not in that place anymore.

But I remember her.

And I think she’d be really proud of what came from it.