I drafted an e-mail that I don't have the guts to send. I keep hoping that I'll grow a spine someday, but no, it will likely never happen.
R deserves a happy mom. That's not me right now. There's nothing I can do. I spin my wheels and fly into internal rages but nothing will change from that. The change will come eventually, when other factors all come together. Other factors that have nothing to do with me or my temper. So I swallow my anger, put on a mask, and try to pretend like everything's okay. It's not okay. R is beautiful and charming and tries to cheer me up with a gurgle or a smile, and I can't enjoy it. The birds are chirping and every day looks more like Spring, but my heart doesn't flutter like I know it would under happier circumstances. It just thumps along, trying to make it through another day. I don't like this at all.
R deserves a happy mom. I wish it were me.