"I am in some sick love triangle with my husband and my insanity."
In the quiet corridors of suburbia, where manicured lawns whispered tales of ordinary lives, I stood on the precipice of my own unraveling. Our house, a carefully curated sanctuary of domestic bliss, hid the storms brewing within its walls—the storms that gave no warning, the flip of a switch, the great awakening.
Whatever you want to call it, it doesn’t matter. They will say I lost it. That the pressures of motherhood was too much for me.
No, I haven’t lost anything; I have found exactly what I have been looking for—her.
"I am in some sick love triangle with my husband and my insanity."
In the quiet corridors of suburbia, where manicured lawns whispered tales of ordinary lives, I stood on the precipice of my own unraveling. Our house, a carefully curated sanctuary of domestic bliss, hid the storms brewing within its walls—the storms that gave no warning, the flip of a switch, the great awakening.
Whatever you want to call it, it doesn’t matter. They will say I lost it. That the pressures of motherhood was too much for me.
No, I haven’t lost anything; I have found exactly what I have been looking for—her.