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Wednesday. I finally admitted to my mom that I was a bit depressed. Of course I didn’t use the “depression” word. I just said that I felt down and that I didn’t want to wake up in the morning and that almost nothing motivates me. I hate worrying her but I hate keeping things from her. Her response: “I’m sorry to hear that but you’ll have to keep waking up in the morning because you have kids”. Ughhh.

I also called my grandma. She just turned 90. She was the only one who didn’t know I had separated from the man. My mom chose not to tell her so she wouldn’t worry but she found out anyway. She has a way to find the lie in anything. We are not sure how she does that since she doesn’t need to hit you with the back of a gun or burn…

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