I’m sick. Not from an illness, but from the actions happening around me. I’m sick of feeling the exact same emotions every day and nothing ever changing. I’m sick of having no one to be my shoulder to cry on. I’m sick of always having to be the one that worries about everyone else, but no one is worrying about me. Don’t get me wrong I love my life. Yet, sometimes I get to a breaking point. I’m really close to that point. I’m always the one who is expected to do a million things such as clean up, make sure everything is organized, do this and that; all while I’m doing the hardest job I’ve ever had to face in my life. Mothering. I never expected to become a mother so I am currently doing everything I can however I can. I really thought that I wouldn’t have such a struggle with it and some days it feels easy, but other days like today everything comes crashing down on you and it all feels like too much. I feel as if I am doing this all alone. I might have my boyfriend...her father to help out, but it’s difficult because he’s not always here and when he is here he doesn’t want to do anything except his own thing. I never get a real chance to do my own thing. It’s always breastfeed, change a diaper, put her down to sleep, clean up, take care of yourself, tend to the baby again, do this, do that and it’s a constant vicious cycle. A vicious cycle that I continue to do every single day and night because I love my daughter. I want the best for her and I’ll do whatever it takes to do so even if that means doing it all on my own with little to no help. I just wish he’d allow me to have a break every now and again to get my head straight. To save me from depression. To save me from one day lashing out and taking my aggression out on my boyfriend. I sit here at 1:11am on the edge of the bed staring into my daughters crib crying wishing I was better. I sit here crying knowing I won’t get the sleep I need once again. I sit here crying while my boyfriend is asleep peacefully once again. I just wish that once he would see life from my side and realize that I crave his help with our daughter. I crave his attention. I crave for him to want me once more. I just wish I was asleep right now instead I’m up with tearfilled eyes writing in a journal hoping it will all get better one day.