Monologues of the mind

Crumbling

Honestly?
I don't know what to do anymore.
For so long I was the person people could rely on for help, for guidance, for advice; I was the "Mum" friend, the unpaid counsellor, the listening ear for whoever had a story to tell or a secret they needed to share. But what happens when the counsellor needs counselling?
When the Mum needs a Mum?
When there is no one left to listen?

Because everything around me seems to be crumbling, collapsing, the foundations I built my life on are disintegrating.
And all I can do is watch. Wait. Fall.
I can't stop the destruction.
I can't pray away the pain.
I no longer have control.
This summer was supposed to be the glorious sunny memories that you reflect back on when you're older, regaling your stories of adventure to your children, thinking about how you did your one long summer of freedom right.
But in the space of a week, my plans of spontaneity and fun have been ripped from me and killed.
And I can't change that.
I'm tired of fighting my fate.
I'm tired of pretending that everything will be okay when it won't.
But I'm tired of not being able to fix anything.

My life is going to Hell in a hand basket and I don't have the power, the control to retrieve it.
I am powerless in my own life, and I hate it.
But I can't stop it.