Then other things began to go wrong. The funding for my position was called into question due to budget cuts and my bosses were concerned. Work colleagues kept on trying to reassure me that I would be okay. But I did not want them to worry about me. Couldn’t they see that I wasn’t worth it? Didn’t they know that it was only a matter of time before it came out that they had all been fooled and I was in fact useless?
My landlord was granted a court order to take possession of my flat. And the date set was before the date I had selected to end it all. My sons kindly offered to let me move in with them until I could sort out an alternative. Now I was hurting my boys! This just wasn’t on. I had to do something. I couldn’t allow my mess to affect anyone else’s lives. But what could I do?
I don’t know why, but I started to take it out on those that I cared about the most – my boys. I started arguing with them over silly things, to a point where it was affecting their lives. It was time to act.
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