The struggle perfectly described here:

Hang Your Hopes From Trees

GETTING THROUGH, NOT OVER

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Here we are, a crowd of women,

deep within the thick

wading within waters,

cold, and dark and quick

_

The waters seep into our souls,

soak heavy weight into our clothes

and seek to pull us under,

where tears and anguish flow

to distant shores we’re headed

where old and new lives stand

the lives we’ve left behind

shout out to us from the land

‘build’, they shout, with voices

unburdened and unscarred

‘construct a shining bridge

to ease this journey that’s so far’

but we’ve been beaten down so

by love, by fate, by loss

we’ve left behind the tools we need

to take us over and across

‘Go over’, call the voices

of the others who don’t know

‘get over it’, their words lash out

‘don’t let your weakness show’

But we must carve our own path

directly…

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