On mornings that I don't have the boys it's as hard for me to drag myself OUT of bed as it is for me to drag myself TO bed at nighttime. Not that I don't have plenty to do, it's just one of the hardest moments. (Not being a natural early riser doesn't help, but it's much bigger than that.)
People asked me how I'm doing yesterday when I saw folks and I answered "well" to a few of them, and that was accurate, which felt good and bad (if that makes sense). And it's true, life is getting easier in moments, but it's still really indescribably fucking hard and painful.