Broken. Damaged. That's me.

I. Am. Broken. Damaged.

I'm not whole and I know I never will be. No one wants a broken toy. No one wants a person so broken they have a hard time finding their own worth some days. I have trust issues, self-worth issues, major depressive disorder (MDD), and post-traumatic stress disorder (PTSD). I struggle many days to be thankful I am alive. One thing I know, is most days I am grateful to be alive; grateful to be here for my kids and those who do genuinely care about me. Other days, I struggle to be happy I am alive.

I look at myself and all I see is damaged goods. I see the scars. The ugly outward scars I can cover with my clothes. The inner scars I hide behind humor, usually directed at myself. I try to hide the ugly with being this outwardly happy person. I try to hide the ugly by caring for and about others the way I wish I was cared for/about. I want others to have the smile I cannot find many days. I want them to feel better than I feel. I think I'm successful. I think... it works...