My children—grown, with families of their own across the country—tried to help. They sent checks. They offered guest rooms. But I was stubborn. I was proud. I told them I was fine. I told them Dad was just having a midlife crisis and I was “finding myself.”
I wasn’t finding myself. I was slowly disappearing.
But I never touched the card. Using that $300 felt like admitting defeat. It felt like accepting his “severance package” for our marriage. I would rather starve than spend his pity money.
The Collapse
The body keeps score, even when the mind tries to ignore the game.
Three weeks ago, my body finally folded. I was unlocking the door to my apartment after a double shift when the world tilted sideways. The gray pavement rushed up to meet me, and then… darkness.
