I hope You all are good. I'm fine, and hope the pandemic will end, at the end.

Every day I cry. Now it is not for my ex husband. I cry thinking of me. I'd like to have someone telling me that I'm doing good. My parents cannot. My friends refuse to look at me for what I really am: because I WAS strong and was the one helping others, nobody now helps me.
I don't need anything, but I see the big differences between the life I worked to build up, and the results. I know I have to accept everything: my absent parents, my judjing parents, my hard work, my loneliness, my life without a family, without chidren, without the house I had, without dreams.
I work every day. Every day in my car go8ng to work, I cannot stop thinking what I was and what it is.
Amen, I have not anything else to say. This was the plan for me.