I’m a little full. I had too many cupcakes. My thighs are itchy — maybe a rash. I don’t know why.
My body battery is down to 12%. I laid down for a while in silence, hoping I’d drift off, but nothing happened. I think I just really need rest.

I reckon I’ll sleep a bit tonight.
And even if I don’t, I’ll still show up for Victor tomorrow — and that’s what matters.
Wednesday and Thursday I get to myself. Friday through Monday morning, I’m back with him.
And then — 10 days to recover. 10 days to recalibrate.

It’s a new system we’re trying. And honestly… I’m excited to see how it works.

Our co-parenting setup is really healthy now. The structure gives us what we need, but there’s space for spontaneity — adventures, trips, new memories. If he wants me at both football matches, I’ll be there. His mum wouldn’t mind.

It’s taken a while, but I’m excited about my life. I’ve always had that spark — but recently I needed space to reflect.
To grieve.

A family that never quite held me.
A mother who couldn’t love me.
A father too weak to show his love.
A sister pulled away by manipulation.
A partner who couldn’t grow with me.
Friends who didn’t care like I needed.

There’s so much to grieve.
But I’m not stuck there.

I’m grieving the old me too — the one who accepted breadcrumbs, thinking it was a feast.
Because he didn’t know there was even a slice of bread elsewhere.
Maybe I’ve had that slice now.
Maybe not the whole loaf — maybe that’s unattainable.
But it’s worth moving toward.

And tonight, that’s enough.