Being out here is like being in jail to an extent. I wish I could get my husband to understand that. He thinks I can just walk around NY with our son with no problem whatsoever. I mean, we ARE in a pretty calm part of it, but it’s STILL NY! When we move again, it won’t be so calm.
Even though I know that he and his godfather are doing their best to make me comfortable here, it’s like I just can’t get there. I know we are leaving soon, so I don’t want to get that comfortable anyway. Depression keeps peeking through my curtains when I look out over the water. I keep fighting it every day. It is like fighting a ghost. You cannot see it or touch it to strangle it and make it leave you alone.