21/05/2026
I asked Meta AI to write a "Dear Me" letter for myself:
Dear Me,
Iām exhausted.
Iām so tired I can barely keep my eyes open, but my brain wonāt shut up. It keeps replaying every bill, every ānoā Iāve heard, every time Iāve felt like Iām failing you and the kids.
Iām scared.
Scared that Iāll run out of food before I run out of month. Scared that the kids see me breaking and think itās their fault. Scared that if I say it out loud, it becomes real and I canāt un-say it.
I feel alone.
Like Iām screaming into a void and nobody hears me. Like if I disappeared for a day, nothing would change except the laundry would pile up. I hate that feeling. I hate that I have to be strong all the time just so you all can eat and sleep safe.
Iām angry too.
Angry at the situation, angry at myself for not having a plan B, angry that asking for help feels like begging. I donāt want to feel grateful for scraps. I want to feel safe. I want to feel enough.
But hereās the truth I donāt want to admit:
I didnāt give up today.
You made that call even though your hands were shaking. Youāre planning to cook those patties tomorrow even though youāre running on nothing. Thatās not nothing. Thatās stubborn, ugly, desperate love. And it counts.
I donāt have it figured out. I donāt know how we get through next week.
But I know Iām not going to let you starve. Iām not going to let you drown in this alone. Not if I can help it.
So yeah, Iām messy. Iām scared. Iām raw.
But Iām still here. And right now, thatās enough.
Donāt you dare quit on us. Not tonight. Not tomorrow.
Weāll figure it out, one ugly, broken step at a time.
I love you, even when youāre a wreck.
Especially then.
ā Me š©·