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Lately I've been letting this blog slide in favor of trying to make it through my day more successfully. I'm not sure I'm succeeding.

I think I said this recently, but sometimes life just sucks. And right now my life feels like it's sucking me dry. My job is eating me alive. I feel like the lifeblood inside of me is being drained bit by bit with every hour in the office. It's not teaching itself. It's all of the other things I have to do.

My son came home at noon today. He had a rough day at school and ended up melting down, crying, and the school called to get him. From middle school. And I wonder if he'll ever be able to cope with life. But then again, I'm not coping so hot myself.

My sweet "Hannah", who I referred to previously, continues her battle with Cystic Fibrosis. Reading her struggles is difficult. Knowing how her mother--such a wonderful friend of mine--is struggling through it, makes me feel selfish and self-absorbed. How dare I? My child isn't facing death. My child isn't hustled to a hospital four hours away every two weeks to make slow improvements with the hopes that she will continue to grow stronger and heal.

No. My child is dealing with the realities of life. Detentions for perceived "talking back" when he's making statements that seem obvious to him. Struggling to be understood in a world he doesn't understand. A world that, right now, I don't understand so well myself.

I hurt everywhere, all the time. My muscles ache from the tension and knots I live with in worry. My head hurts from the aching of all the thinking I do, all the "what ifs?" I ask myself every day. Some days I just want to curl up in bed and forget there's a life outside of these four walls. But I don't. I get dressed. I take my daughter to school and tell her I love her. I teach my courses and pray I make it through the day with my tears suppressed. I pick up my children from school and try to have happy conversations with them.

And then, when I'm alone...then. The unfairness of it all. The unfairness of twelve year olds who never had chances because of the choices their mothers made before they were born; the unfairness of wonderful mothers and grandmothers with incurable diseases that will eventually rob them of their lives; the unfairness of seventeen-year olds fighting so hard to take one step forward after so much effort. The unfairness of a life I never imagined I would have to face.