I have been so tired lately, the rain does it every time and it’s been three days. I have no desire to get out of bed and look forward to going back to bed around 8 p.m. I’m not depressed no I am just tired, very tired and stressed.
I just need to get through this week and things will brighten considerably as I will have slain a few dragons. I went to counseling today and it bothered me, it bothered me a lot when my son told me that it really hurt him and Shel when I said they don’t need me.
He says they don’t need me but want me and that was quite startling to me that someone actually wanted me. I know that says a lot about my self esteem but when you are never wanted and the best part of you was left on the bed then you do have bouts of the “downers’.
My husband never wanted me, not really he just wanted another mother to make life easy for him. The kids, well those were my idea of course and to hear they want me, well that fucks with my mind quite a bit. Barbara also asked who was “Kimberly” and my stock answer is ” I DO NOT KNOW”.
Does anyone really know who they are? We are suppose to wear so many faces for so many people, when do we wear our face for ourselves? I don’t know if I will ever know who I am but that really isn’t important as those around me know who I am to them.
I hold a powerful position, I am a mother and there is no power stronger then that for a mortal. We are the keepers of the world, the producers of youth, the leaders of life. I know, I lost my damn manual when the kids were born, son of a bitch is no doubt stuck up in a fallopian tube.
I have done the best I could most of the times and yes I have been the proverbial “shitty” parent as well. My children were born as adults, no I never cooed them or treated them like anything but miniature adults. I have let them learn the hard way and one a good day a real good day they actually listen to me.
I gave birth to them not ownership and I have let them find their way in life with my guidance. Children are not possessions, they are not to live our fallen lives through, they are not to live the dreams we were to afraid to go after.
Our children are us, they are the good, the bad and the indifferent in each one of us. I was raised in one of the worse environments known to man, a mentally ill mother that was excessively physically and verbally abusive. I have been asked by my counselor to write a forgiveness letter to my mother.
I do not have to send it and I would not as I have not fully forgiven her for what she has robbed my life of. I have to forgive her within myself because I am giving her free rent and board and I cannot keep living with such anger towards another as it affects me.
I’m not on a pity pounder by any means, I’m just trying to work this all out in my head and dissect
the questions that need to be asked, peace, just some peace please.