Dark places

It's been awhile since I last felt I needed some help getting out of a dark place. Years. Yet here I am, ready to down a bottle of something lethal, or at least anything to make me forget where I am.

I am four days away from my last day at work. I've taken two personal days--today and last Friday--and I've gotten a taste of what my life will look like from here on out. It's bitter. No sweet, just bitter. Been having trouble sleeping. Preoccupied with the countdown. And I haven't been able to eat much. I cry in front of the kids, something I ordinarily wouldn't do, pretty regularly now. My husband, EB, doesn't seem to miss my sunny disposition. He just watches me pat my eyes, mascara smears all around, and offers a sympathetic "I know, I know."

Sympathetic? If he knew how much rage I already felt. I would not be leaving work if he were more supportive. But I'll try somehow to reinvent myself. Even if I have to be alone with myself for a while.

And if it doesn't work out, I'll go back. I think my bosses would greet me with open arms.