~~~
Sometimes I wonder how I have been able to keep my sanity, if you can call me sane. Wonder why I am still here, when I could've ran away. Wonder why I have become the reflection in the mirror. Sometimes I admire my strength, yet I'm ashamed of my weakness. It's true, pain does blind the eye, but only if you let it... Yes, things ******** you up, but only when you let 'em. Sometimes I look in the mirror and ask myself the questions that I know I might never be able to answer. Those question that torment me, mainly because I allow 'em to. The vision of my loves ones sometimes bring tears to my eyes, just because and I wish I could, for one second, know what going through their heads. I hope they can be different. I hope I am able to help them be different, but sometimes I am just so selfish...
I wish to embrace me, them. I wish I could come clean, I will. Someday...
I'm sorry, self, for bringing you down.
Community Member
If I didn't know better I'd say I wrote this...
WTF.
My mom doesn't abuse me or anything, only verbally, but the emotional neglect leaves me constantly dreaming of this alternate life where 'it isn't good enough' is 'great', and 'i hate you your grounded' is 'thanks for doing that for me, you did a great job'
Sometimes I begin to believe the things she tells me, but then I come back to realitiy and realize she is just mean. mean. mean. Sometimes I still really long for a childhood filled with sweet hugs and kisses. A childhood full of pushes on the swing and sweets for my good behavior. It seems nonsensical to dream for it, but I still do.
Sometimes I wonder why I wasn't ever good enough for anyone.
My mom left my dad when I was 6 months, the same dad that wanted me aborted, and when I was 2 I started asking questions. So after a lot of persisting my mom agreed to try and visit my dad. We went to the appartment he was living in but he wasn't there. So we left him a note with our adress and phone number. I was only 2, but I remember how sad I was walking away.
He never tried to contact me. It's been 12 years since I seen him. I used to imagine that my mom was purposely trying to keep my dad from me. That he really loved me. That somehow he was searching for me but she kept shutting him out. But in reality he's just a ******** up drug adict who doesn't want anything to do with his daughter. I sort of want to rant more about the rest, but I don't feel like it right now. But even writing the above helped. I hope your life isn't like mine[orworse]