I have so much on my mind lately—so much just building up, ready to explode. Don’t keep it boiling inside, they say. Share it. Let it out. I know there are people out there who will listen when I’m ready.

But every time I think I’m ready, I end up telling the “I’m doing okay” version. The version that says, I’m hanging in there, I can handle this. When the version that really needs to come out is, I’m hanging on for dear life.

I have sat down, ready to write, so many times. And every time, I just sit there, staring at a blank page.

How do I put into words the ugly legal battle we’re going through?
How do I explain the gut-wrenching process of searching for a therapeutic school for my child—only to keep hearing, we can’t meet her needs?
How do I help my daughter through this new phase of life when I can’t even find the words to explain what she’s going through?
How do I describe the way anxiety is creeping in, making everyday life harder for one of my girls?

I don’t know how to say it all. I don’t know how to let it go because if I do, I might fall apart.

But maybe I don’t need the perfect words. Maybe just saying this is hard is enough for now. Maybe just admitting that I don’t have all the answers is the first step.

So here I am, trying. And if you’re reading this, maybe you get it. Maybe you’ve been here too. Maybe you don’t have the words either.

And maybe—for now—that’s okay.