My spark used to be a wildfire but now it’s barely visible. Having a hard time breathing. That which I would inhale, the breath of life, that which used to invigorate my life, my fire... is now a subzero frigid wind that threatens to snuff out what little life remains. Little life.. my children. I love them but I am now utterly overwhelmed. This was already difficult before discovery. Now one of the twins can crawl. And fall. Kind of like my marriage. In the last month we had just begun to cut through the briars of shame and isolation and get to some real intimacy— or so I thought. Could just be a mirage. So we began to crawl. And it was nice. But then I saw the ground we stood on vanish like an apparition. Lies. This isn’t safe. Fall. Trying to process if my marriage is salvageable. If I can ever truly rely on anything authentic honest and intimate from him. My toddler clamors for attention. I desperately need silence and peace. I’m My twins constantly moan. It’s as if my inner angst is being broadcasted on surround sound to engulf my physical environment. Self care... fleeting aspirations. I want to stay in bed. I gave to care for everyone else. My spark is so small.