I hit my “rock bottom” when it comes to my maladaptive thinking around her. I’m doing so good now. Yes, it hurts, but it’s not consuming me, or overthrowing me or interfering with my logical train of thought and plan of how I want to steer this ship, and do my best to keep her on board, or at least keep her within arm’s reach of a life saver, while I get the ship to safety.
For a year and a half now I’ve been drowning in the sadness of the sound of everyone telling me to give up because I’ve done everything I could and it’s up to her now. I’ve been watching my baby girl go deeper under water. Deciding to stop giving up on her and to help get her back on her feet but on my terms has taken this great black cloud from my soul. She’s a tough one, but I just learned I’m tougher.