Why can't I?

I just read Elizabeth Beck's latest blog post, and it made me cry. Again. She said you can never have too many friends. I find it hard to make friends. Real friends. Friends I can trust, friends I can turn to when I feel like I do tonight - sad, alone, when the desire to not be here starts flashing again. I know I'm stronger than that, I look at my boys and know I need to be here for them, but the monster whispers in my head that I'm fucking them up too - if only I could make the strong decisions, somewhere inside I think I'm probably strong enough to make it on my own, other women do, surely I can do it too.

Tonight I thought the boys and I were going out for dinner at a friends house. I thought I had organised it on Sunday. But when I rang this afternoon her husband answered the phone and he knew nothing about it, he suggested maybe later this week - even though I thought he knew we were going away tomorrow. In my head I crumpled. As irrational as I knew it was I knew that what had happened was that they had got sick of my shit. You see, one of my goals in therapy has been to trust more - to open up with a couple of close friends about what is happening, what happened before. And I have trusted his wife, my friend. At the same time as this has been happening my husbands drinking has got worse, his verbal mind games have got worse and there are times I have been afraid of him. He is burning bridges around the community and damaging friendships. And I am scared my friends have had enough. Maybe it's just too hard to maintain the friendship with me. Maybe I'm just too much, too fucked up. I didn't know all this shit was inside of me. I'm sorry.