The air in my home
is heavy with my mom's unhappiness. And her exhaustion.
And her sheer dissatisfaction with her life.
And I hate it.
I can be locked up in my room when she's in the kitchen and I feel her despair seeping up through the doors and walls.

As she said to me,
"Have you ever felt suffocated by your own life?
Like life has trapped you in a corner and ******* whatever is left of you?"

No amount of strength that I contain can somehow give her a miniature motive to get back up.

God, this is awful.