Fed up: living through the pain of needing to walk away

Today is not the best day for me.

I got news about my health that left me feeling drained and defeated. I sat there in silence, tears sliding down my face, trying to remind myself to be grateful—that even in the middle of this heaviness, I still have another day. Another breath. Another chance.

But here’s the truth: when you live with depression and anxiety, there are days when gratitude feels like a battle in itself. Bad days come like storms, uninvited, and all you can do is put one foot in front of the other and hope that somehow you’ll find the strength to keep moving through the rain.

As if that weight wasn’t enough, another battle pulled at me today—the same one that’s haunted me for years.

My children’s father.

He’s back in jail again, for the same mistakes, the same charges, the same choices. And once again, who does he call? Me. He expects me to answer, to talk to attorneys, to help him piece together a fight for his freedom. He calls daily, asking me to let him speak with our kids, asking me to keep his truth from them so they don’t know where he really is.

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And here I sit, phone in hand, torn apart.

Why now? Why do you depend on me now, when for twenty years of my life you gave me nothing but pain? You didn’t need me then—except to tear me down, to belittle me, to make me feel small. You didn’t need me when I was crying myself to sleep or when you left scars on my body and soul. But now that you’re locked away, suddenly, I’m the one you lean on?

It makes me feel fed up. It makes me angry. But most of all, it makes me wonder—why can’t I just walk away fully?

Because the truth is, I have a beautiful life now. I have a husband who loves me with a heart so big it amazes me daily. He looks at me and sees worth where someone else only saw weakness. He even tells me to help my ex, to show compassion, because “it’s hard to have no one in your corner.” And sometimes, I hear his words and I ache with guilt—because I don’t want to be that corner anymore.

I’m torn between my past and my present. Between old wounds and new beginnings. Between a man who used me up and broke me down, and another who lifts me up and shows me love I never thought I’d deserve.

So yes, today I’m fed up. Fed up with carrying the weight of battles I never asked for. Fed up with the way trauma keeps trying to pull me back. Fed up with the way compassion and anger wrestle inside of me every time the phone rings.

But even in my fed up-ness, I know this: I’m stronger than the woman I used to be. I may stumble, I may cry, I may wrestle with old chains—but I’m not who I was 20 years ago.

And I will keep walking forward. One day at a time. One battle at a time. One step closer to freedom that no one can take away from me.