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I cannot deny it. I was weak, I felt like a victim, I convinced myself that my reality was one of the worst. I found it excessively difficult to run the house and look after my three kids; the physical tiredness provoked mental tiredness as well, something like a state of lethargy, in which it was tough to listen, pay attention and understand what I was told. My eldest son, for example, approached me with the intention to share some anecdote and I couldn’t assimilate his words; consequently, I sent him out bad-mannerly, frustrated for not being able to assist him. Likewise, I looked and admired the “normal” life that my friends led, feeling like the ugly duckling of the crew. I wasn’t able to go for long walks, my knees hurt whenever I rode a bike, I woke up and felt tired since early morning; needless to say how I ended the day…

The situation overtook me and I got depressed. Let’s say that, so far, everything is ordinary, even expectable, but one day my thoughts turned to another direction. I was so upset with my reality, such a bad mother, felt so useless that one day, as I was hanging out the laundry, I saw it clearly: my children would be far better without me, and my husband would be released from the burden of putting up with an ill person if I abandoned this world.

I analyzed the idea and… I panicked.

How did I let myself sink so low?

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