Dear Diary


Every single day for most of my life I have told myself that I wasn’t enough.  Not smart enough or pretty enough or good enough to be worthy of other people’s time.  My presence doesn’t matter because I don’t matter and the world just keeps spinning just fine with or without me.  Ive questioned my life in very dark ways, wondering at times why I keep going.  Then I see the faces of my children and I hold on for them, because I know that how I feel in these moments is nothing compared to a lifetime for them without me.  Their mom. My relationship with my own mother is strained.  I haven’t felt truly loved or wanted by her since I was a child.  And even then, my fondest memories of her are not the type of warmth I wish for my own children.  She was not the cuddly affectionate type, at least not with me.  I remember her always rubbing my dads back as they sat together on the couch, even my brother, but not me.  When I would get sick and couldn’t sleep, she would come lay in my bed next to me until I drifted off, that may be the only real comfort that sticks out in my mind. She was always very organized and “teacherly” she has a degree in early childhood education so I guess she just decided to live it through us instead of actually becoming a teacher.  She liked to set up craft projects and things like that.  We always went on vacations, she was great about packing all the right stuff, snacks, food.  It was as if she could never forget things, she was just an absolute pro at that kind of stuff.  Which is something I look up to and have always aspired to be. I believe that my mom had a nervous breakdown in the years that led up to my parents divorce.  She let it completely destroy her and our relationship.  I lost respect for her really young.  Once I started driving and bought my first car, I was pretty much out of the house for good.  I spent the back end of high school making all my own decisions.  I grew up way too fast and when my power group of friends fell apart I was never able to pick up the emotional pieces to move on and replace them.  Instead, I hurried into adulthood friendless and almost alone. My grandparents and my husband have pretty much been the only constants in my adult life.  There have been huge chunks of time where I didn’t speak to either one of my parents or my brother.  My grandma means more to me than any woman on earth.  She is my rock.  Which is why even though I wanted to stay home yesterday and hang around my yard, I agreed to go to her house for Mother’s Day dinner.  But then everything went to shit. I only recently learned …READ MORE

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