What a wonderful year it’s been for my family.

One sister got pregnant against the odds and now has a beautiful baby girl.
The other sister finally got engaged and we’re all excitedly planning the wedding with her.

And then, of course, there was me. Casting the black cloud over all the joy. Failing spectacularly as they succeed. And trying so hard not to bring everyone down with me.

But being so alone as I fight the tears and plaster the smile back on my face.

I am genuinely happy for them. Of course I am. But I am also genuinely sorry for myself. That I could be such a monumental fuck up to bring yet more shit on myself. And reflect it back out to my family who just want to celebrate not commiserate.

So on I go, wading through the blackest treacle. Trying to find an escape but too scared, too weak to take it.

When will this end? Why am I here?

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