if

I see the pictures and quotes all over Facebook asking "if I die tomorrow what would you remember about me?" and as self serving and attention seeking as they are, it makes you wonder.  If I simply ceased to exist, or if I had never existed, would it really be so bad?  Now stay with me here, I'm fighting some major depression and anxiety, but I have enough sense to know the damage me ending my life would would instill in my babies, so simmer down.  But really, would the world be better off without my presence in it?
I inflicted my older daughters into this world.  I raised them and tried to teach them right from wrong and look where that got me,  I'm ashamed of them, so much that I cringe when people ask how the are.  I'm ashamed to be their mother, and call them mine.  I'm ashamed.  And for that, I'm a terrible person, I get that. I really do.  I tell my self that a thousand times an hour.
I've become a burden, a waste of space, a parasite living off a host, though that host is a pretty amazing person and family.  I don't interact with the world correctly, and even talking to my husband is challenging because if I say how messed up it is he's in there, then it reflects on him, that he isn't compliment with sex offender classes by not being properly sorry about what he did.  How messed up is that?  He shouldn't be there.  The end.  He did nothing, but I better not say that or the judge may take my little ones away because their daddy is a threat.  It simply pisses me off.  If I had money, I could find justice for my sweet spouse.  I don't, so he sits in jail, worried sick about how he is going to provide for his family in a future that is to scary to look into.
And the best part is???  I'm not supposed to feel this way.  I need to put on my big girl panties and deal with it.  Life's hard, quit bitching and do what needs to be done.  You know what?  Today, I CAN'T.  Judge away, I do it to myself in my head all the time.  I am the cause of all the pain in my family.  If I had been a better mother, if I had gotten K help as hard as I was trying to get E help, if Eric had never met me, and on and on.  It's never ending, and for a while, my mask can hold it in so that socially, I'm doing the acceptable, strong thing and getting on with it.  Inside is such another matter.
I am not this strong, amazing person people keep telling me that I am.  I am broken, and lost and hurt and shouting and mad and crazy and so very messed up.  I have no idea what I'm doing.  Most of the time, I can't remember to breath.  I write it out because if I keep letting it run wild, it truly will kill me.  I can't even find the words for a small fraction of what I need to put down to paper and get out of my head.  What I can find words for seems so shallow and weak.  I want to shout to the world, yet I don't want to go outside.  Outside has become a terrifying place, a place bent on destroying my family and stealing my children and husband.  But none of that came from outside now did it?  It came from me.  So we are back to my original mind wander, if I were to die tomorrow, would the world be a better place?   Would I then cease to unleash my brand of horror on the rest of an unsuspecting planet?
Just for today, and let us be honest, most likely a while longer, I simply give up.  My strength is gone, I've worn my mask until it no longer hides what I need it to.  My pain and anger are leaking through to often now.  My rock is missing, the glue holding the messy bits is gone.  So I'll lay my anger and pain and sorrow and fear and whatever else ugly I have at the Master's feet, and hope for just  a moment, He will lift my burdens and ease my soul.  I know he hasn't left me, but someday the pain is so strong, it's hard to remember.