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On December 30, 08...I allowed my mother back into my life, only for a moment...it was just long enough to catch the glimpse of reality that I cannot keep her there....

(sent Sun 1/04/09 4:55 PM)
Beth,
 
I received all of your messages....I just have no idea how to talk to you. I met with you because part of me believes Gabe should know his family...especially since he has no grandmother, other than what he knows his great-grandmother to be. Ehi, the guy I told you about, told me I should say what I need to say over the phone....but I can't. I have always been that way, it is simply easier to say what I feel in writing so if this seems shallow or cowardly to you, I apologize.
 
There are a few things that you have said that tell me you have not changed much. Missed me maybe, but not changed. You asked me what happened, let me refresh your memory.....
 
I met you at 15, not having any knowledge of who you were or why you were never in my life up to that point...I really may never know why you had better things to do than try to be my mother for 15 years, I only have the 3 versions of the story that you, my dad, and my grandmother have told me. Believe it or not, my father has always been the most trustworthy when it comes to those things, he can tell it best how it was, without any excuses or feelings involved. Maybe that is because he is a man, and less emotional, or maybe it was because you and my grandmother have never gotten along. You tell the story as if you were a victim, you were just a teenager, had no idea how to be a mother or to fight for your child. That excuse is old with me, you were only a teenager for 3 more years after I was born, and at the time I stopped seeing you, you were almost 20. Still young, I realize...but you have gotten to be a teenager since I was born, if you ask me. You have never been able to hold down a job, you went weeks at a time without talking to me when I lived there, and you have never stepped up to any of your responsibilities. In my eyes, Walter is the only reason you have been able to function all of these years, he is your angel...but he is also your crutch. I knew more about being a mother at 16 than you do now. You may be excused for being selfish at that age, but what about now?
 
By the time I was 18, and you gave me a week to get out of your house, I had been asked to leave 3 times....although I had no place to go aside from moving in with Jenny's parents, who were happy to have me...and you called me to tell me to come home when I had went to stay with her. I complied this time, since I was old enough to get a place on my own, the week after my senior prom. I have never figured out what set you off to prompt that letter, but at this point, that may be one of the few things I am grateful to you for...so it doesn't matter.
 
When I moved in with you, you allowed me to smoke, drink, and introduced me to weed...within days of moving in. I had been sheltered before living with you, which you were aware of, so naturally I thought I was in heaven. Little did I know that I would have to constantly babysit you....cleaning up your mess if you left the bathtub running until the water spilled onto the floor, let the pepper steak catch fire on the stove while you went outside for over an hour (steak strips cook in minutes, you know) or worry about you when you "went to get groceries" and would come back an hour or more later with nothing but a cooler full of beer and when you ate nothing and drank beer all day, all the while taking anti-depressants. I had sex for the first time shortly after you took me to get birth control, and I had no idea what I was doing, but I thought if the person who looks out for my best interest is okay with it, why shouldn't I be?
 
I found my high school journals while cleaning up my room last weekend, and it amazes me as a woman and a mother, looking back on it....how incredibly immature and self-obsessed you were. I had written about the whole experience where you took my car, that was not even yours to take by the way, and had still owed me money you claimed was "stolen" from your dashboard but was not willing to give me a few weeks to try to pay for it. You used the situation with Jeff as an excuse to take it, but you wanted a new car the minute I got one. All the things you NEVER gave me, including that car - since Tracey and Grandma was the reason I had it - and you couldn't even let me have that. I wrote about all the times you stopped talking to me, the times there would be nothing to eat in the house, only beer....the times you got my friends- who were driving themselves - drunk and high. I wrote about how you got angry at me, or Walter, when he said "bye, baby" to me....as he said every morning...which you would know if there were any other mornings you were not hung over in bed. I say where you wet yourself in bed, I would strip the sheets sometimes and flip the mattress. I worried about you, and I was more of a mother to you than you ever were to me. I stopped drinking after I was 16 and didn't drink again until I could feel safe in my own home, because I never knew when I may be called to duty to take care of you when you were drinking. I will never forget the time we went to that New Year's party in Black Ankle, where I was not only drunk but pissed because that racist bas***d kept talking about Sinbad hosting the New Years show, and I had to stay there arguing with him because there was still alcohol left for you to drink. You made me drive home. Anything could have happened, I could have wrecked. But I suppose I should have been the adult in that situation and stayed sober to drive you home, right? That was the same night you told me that I didn't know anything about being a mother, I told you that I knew I wouldn't be able to stay away from my own child for 15 years, and you told me that I should never have children then. Drunken logic, I suppose...I will never understand that statement.
 
I use to hate when my friend Michelle came over, you acted like more of a mother to her than you did me. You told her you loved her, and was so quick to always tell her she could come over anytime, and the poor girl thought you were fun and games all the time like that, always ordering pizza and having sodas for us to drink, just like I thought when I first moved in. Little did she know that you never even paid for me to go to the doctor...and if you weren't speaking to me that particular week, I could have committed suicide in my room and it would be days before you'd notice. When I was coughing up blood and could barely swallow, I had to gather the courage to come tell you, seeing as how you were not speaking to me at the time for some unknown reason....and when I showed you the blood, you said hmmmm.....and nothing else. I then had to muster up the courage to call my father, who I left to be with you, and who had made you sign a written agreement that you would be financially responsible for me when I moved in with you. Of course, I had to jump through the normal hoops of the interrogation from my step-mother to be able to speak with my father. He told me that when his throat bled like that, he had tonsillitis, but did not offer to take me to the doctor, since it was the responsibility you had agreed to. When I came to you with my eyes, I couldn't see well in class, you made an appointment for me at the eye doctor near the mall, and I thought "wow, she is finally going to pay for a doctor visit" but I went by myself, and I paid 425.00 for the glasses BY MYSELF. I still thought, "maybe she will reimburse me"....but as you know, that never happened, either.
 
Anyway.....fast forward to the time period when you asked "what the F**k happened?" , referring to when I lived with Curtis and we worked at the same place in High Point....I would not say we worked "together", as you may have shown up for work three days out of the couple of months I worked there. I thought that we were moving forward when I took that job, but it became obvious to me that you were the same person that asked me to leave your house. It is clear to me now, as it was then, that you are still that person...always have been. That teenager that you use as an excuse for not being my mother in the beginning, is the same reason you still have no daughter. I am almost 29 years old, and I have had to basically raise myself....I was taken from the only person who knew anything about the ability to be a parent, my grandmother, when my dad decided to marry that monster of a step-mother, at 5 years old. Since then, I have felt that I was alone. I traded financial stability with physical and emotional abuse for more emotional abuse and no financial stability what so ever, along with neglectful parenting when I left my father's house to live with you. I use the term parenting loosely.
 
When I worked at the furniture place, I found myself in a situation where our boss, Kay, was constantly coming to me asking where you were, if you were ok, and why you were not at work. They would see in me that I was not the type to miss a day for any reason, so I guess everyone was confused as to why you were calling in on a daily basis. She could tell in my evasive answers of saying I don't know constantly, that I might really have an idea but didn't want to tell. One day, Kay called me into her office and shut the door and asked me to tell her about you. I told her the entire story, in a condensed version, taking responsibility for most of our relationship's shortcomings. Kay told me what kind of potential I had, and knew that my grandmother was trying to convince me to move in with her in Lumberton. She encouraged me to do so, and told me some of the guys would take the van and move my stuff there for free, if I would just go.... she also was one of the first people to make me believe this whole thing was not my fault, that I was not responsible for your behavior, or your problems. My therapist from the time I had community service had already explained it to me, but I was not at a place where I was ready to believe anyone at the time. I did like therapy, although I could not talk about every detail of my home life with you, because she threatened to call social services when she found out you were driving my friends and me around ripped out of your mind. 
 
Of course, you would not pay for my therapy, and with no more than I was making at my jobs, I was not able to afford it, so I stopped going. I was diagnosed with bi-polar disorder, but made it clear that I wanted no medications for it, I believed that my feelings were reactions to my life's circumstances, and taking meds to make myself numb was the equivilent to your drowning your feelings with alcohol. Once Kay had me convinced that I should not be suffering for your issues, I decided the only way to keep myself from doing so was to stay away from you completely. I thought maybe one day, if she realizes what she is doing to herself, she will realize the alcohol is the enemy. I didn't know if that could happen, and seeing my father progressively get worse over the years dampened my hope for you as well.
 
When I called you...my initial intention was to tell you to leave my grandmother alone. She called me and told me each time you called, but she felt like she was stuck in the middle. As much anger as she has toward you for "abandoning me" and then what I went through when I lived there, I am actually suprised and proud of her that she told me. When I called, though, I wanted to hear what you had to say. I heard "I am sorry, and I want to be in your life" and at first, I thought that was all I needed to hear from you. But a few weeks and more conversations later, I realize that sorry isn't enough.
 
 What are you sorry for, exactly? The last time I spoke with you, you referred to the "first time" we went our seperate ways, when you kicked me out, as being because of my teenage years. My teenage years? What teenage years? Are you referring to the 3 years I spent obsessively worrying over an alcoholic who I just met, who told me she was going to make up for 15 years of her absence, and who barely spoke to me half of the time? The one who would leave notes out for me not to eat her husband's food, when she kept none for me in the house, and notes to clean HER dishes and floors where she sat around the house drinking all day when I still had homework to do and had been at school and work all day? You are the only one of us who knows what being a teenager is like, you have been one for 29 years now. As my therapist put it, you have too many enablers in your life, and I couldn't be one of them. I still can't. Another conversation we had, you referred to the thesis I left in my old room about alcoholics and their effect on the family, did it not occur to you that you ARE an alcoholic? Have you ever been an entire week without alcohol? The statement when you said "you got it in your head that I was an alcoholic" It was not in my head, it is the truth. That is something you need to deal with, or not, it no longer concerns me now, and I have spent years making sure that it stays that way. How dare you call me after all this time and blame your issues on me? And how dare you ask me to come back to that place and bring my son with me? I will not let you bring him or me down with you.
 
I am sorry if it was wrong of me to take the money, I felt you owed me....not just from the time you never paid me back 600.00 I worked 2 years on weekends to make since 8th grade, the money you never paid to Fingerhut and charged in MY name...then gave me the phone when they called to collect, or the money you took from me when you claimed me on your taxes and I was living alone, at your request. You never even answered to me for that. When I went to Grandma's house to call you about it, I heard Walter tell you it was me, and did you want him to tell me that you were not home, when you told him to say you were at your mother's, I looked at your mother and laughed. That was an example of your life, you run from it, make excuses for yourself, and blame everyone else for your problems. I am just happy that I have learned to take responsibility for my own actions, so I didn't wind up lonely and self-pitying my entire adult life. I realize you have issues, but they are not excuses, I have enough issues in my life to where I could have easily turned it into a lifetime of mistakes and hurt on others, but I refuse to carry on the torch that you and my father passed to me. I am sorry if this seems harsh, or makes you drink 3 bottles of liquor, but I can't continue to hold my feelings back in fear that you will hurt more. You hurt because of you, and I can't allow you in my life to hurt me and my son, too. You see, he has never seen me drink...and he has no clue what a drunk person is...I plan on keeping it that way.
 
I am not sure if anything will ever make you change, now that Walter is drawing those checks, it is painfully clear that you will never have to be an adult. But if you change for anyone, do it for yourself...you won't find happiness in being in my life, it would be a lie anyway. You are a stranger to me, and all the calls and visits in the world cannot change that now. I am an adult, a woman and a mother....and I became all of that in your absence. I can't become a daughter simply because you feel lonely right now. 
 

Guess it has been a while since I have written.
Not sure if I can say I am good, or better- suppose I am.
I am not taking my meds, I should - it costs so much...and as any compulsive spender can tell you, money is hard to come by when you have recently had a manic episode.
It's hard to have all these issues in your head...compulsive spending, depression, hoarding (my newest addition), sexual issues...the list goes on and on for me. The hard part is....if someone else is not going through it, or is not familiar atleast, it is really hard to talk about. And really hard for them to understand, because with mental illness- you cannot see it...and you cannot always see it's result. Everyone hides their issues to the majority of the world, atleast until it explodes in their face. My alcoholic father's mountain of beer cans in his room is a prime example. And although if anyone were to ever SEE the result of my hoarding, they would probably think I was lazy- my other issues are harder to see. You cannot see when I am depressed, or spending bill money on non-sense that I must believe I need at the time. And it is hard to tell someone how to fix it. That, I guess is the part that is like my father's alcoholism...people who do not understand want to say"why can't you just stop drinking? Put down the beer, dont buy it anymore." And for me, "just don't spend money that you need for bills", or "just clean up your house" "just don't have sex with anyone who you feel attracted to" Wish it were that simple.
It's funny, now that I am on a new schedule at work...I have a lot of older ladies as co-workers who, well, some of us like to call "old-school" They like to gossip about others, people who work there or people that did....even down to movie stars they read about in US weekly and swear they know everything about them. One of them was talking about hoarding the other day, how they had an aunt who lived like that and how awful it was. Guess I can't disagree, but they talk about it like they could just easily get up one day and clean up....they have just been avoiding it their whole life. Or they enjoy living like that. Trust me, they don't. But to avoid becoming a whisper is someone's ear later that day, I kept my mouth shut. There was another conversation that took place yesterday about people who are bi-polar, how crazy they are and things they do. How none of them can function, keep a job, make it on their own, etc. I had to jump in on that one and let myself be known as one with bi-polar. That I take meds for it (or am suppose to) and how it can be hard because the meds are high and make you feel like someone else....which is why most do not stick with them. I suppose I am just more comfortable with that issue that I have, or perhaps just more defensive.
 For some, it can take several therapists and med combinations before they have found the right one, and this can cost money that many of us do not have, especially by the time we have figured out there is a problem. Manic episodes can cause you to lose things...friends, family, finances. And that is just the bi-polar part....throw in my sexual tendancies, hoarding (nastiest house you could ever imagine, but will never see) and the fact that I contracted an incurable STD over a year ago....along with normal people's obstacles, like work stress, single motherhood, no child support, no family support, bills, etc- and you have me. Seems a little overwhelming at times because any one of these issues would need to be approached one day at a time...how do you approach all at one time? Seems impossible, but if I address one and not the other, something will have to go on the back burner, causing it to fester.

So.....here I am, this ticking time bomb that I cannot allow to detinate because if it does....my son has nowhere or no one to go to. Sometimes, I just hope I can hang in there until he is out of high school, maybe college - then I can explode and he will be ok. But, question is - with all the different kinds of crazy swimming around inside me, how much is effecting him now? Quite a bit, I am sure. Sometimes, too, I think if I did have that family support system, or even friends (ones that I see on the daily- no offense, guys) that I would have given up this fight a long time ago and let him go stay with someone that would be better for him. And there have been times when I just want to go to the crazy house and let them lock me in for a month or two, just to regroup....but where would he go? DSS? Foster care? I just cannot do that to him.

So, I am trapped here in my craziness, and I have trapped my son in here with me. Hope he makes it out ok.

I am still here.... but somehow I am not really.

I feel bored with myself lately and I miss the old psycho me. Not the crying-for-days-without-stopping one, but the manic highs I guess you could say.

 No one told me that the meds would take away the good crazy too. Not sure it is worth it. What am I saying? I know it is worth it, because he is worth it - my Gabriel...my world. What a hypocrite I am, always encouraging others to do the work for themselves, and I never did. Never even considered therapy until my child came into my life and I began to obsess over what my insanity would bestow upon him emotionally.

 My entire life is a catch 22.... I try to numb myself sane for my son, and the numbness is driving me mad...I always told myself I'd be everything that my parents weren't to me, and I am - but I am the only thing my child has because of my poor decision making abilities and former sexual habits.

 SEX. Man, I miss that. I miss the simple idea of that. Another bad decision, the man I was in love with tells me he has a non-curable STD and this is why he had not been intimate in years. Was so insecure about himself sexually, I encourage him to be with me, made a decision that if I got it too, I would be okay with that because I was never going to leave him. Started back on birth control, not soon enough - lose a baby, contract the std - and a month later? He leaves me.

 Now it is me that will never be with anyone. No one ever found a reason to stay with me when I was not tainted, so why the h*ll? would I bother now?

Another disappointment, no siblings from me for you Gabe. Good thing your daddy is generous enough with his sperm....you will always have your big sister and your little brother. God, I hope the two of you will be close. I have no idea how to make you believe it is not your fault that he doesn't want to be in your life. But....maybe your little brother will- he is in the same boat as you.

 CATCH 22. My exterior is hard and cold, and I can be the perfect BI**H if I want. I can be witty and dryly sarcastic until people want to befriend me...well, not really - they just don't want me to be on my bad side. But that isn't really me, I don't even have a bad side. And I am not hard and cold - I am all warm and gooey, a complete and utter MESS. Having enemies on purpose is too exhausting for me, I have enough without trying. I don't care if anyone likes me, or not - but I want to. I want to want friends and a lover and even a marriage and family again. Hope is lost.

 All the time I spent thinking about the perfect mother I would make myself become for my son when he was in my stomach....but the first man that comes along that seemed different, and passionate and into me - that I could talk to about anything for hours and hours came along and I was pawning my little guy off on the babysitter every weekend, inviting the man into our life, our home, sharing holidays and special moments. He didn't even have to steal my time from my precious babe....that is the sad part......I gave it. Willingly. He didn't ask me to leave Gabe at a sitter's so I could play single dating game with him....I chose to.

 That hurts. I wonder what changed me, from the mother that would not let my child out of my sight, no one could feed him candy or smoke around him, no one could keep him overnight, no one could have him when I was not at work ..... to the mother that pays a 19 year old that swears and watches BET with the kids to keep my son all weekend, every weekend for months?????

What a little heartless slut I turned out to be. The man didn't even call me his girl, said he was not ready for a relationship. Gave him one anyway, I thought I could convince him otherwise - almost did, I think....until I let my crazy seep out a little here and there, got tired of pretending that pretending was ok with me.

Turned out to be just like the part of my father I resented most, my mother too. Thinking your seed is disposable when the hope of love presents itself. My mom did it....didn't want me anyway. She is still a child. Even now. I assume, haven't spoken in 8 years. She got rid of me - gave her to my dad and his mom, just take her. She wouldn't pick me up. I drank P.J. in my bottle at a few months old, that was the most fun I was to her....made me sleep- I imagine.

Then there's dad....didn't want to upset his wife by telling her to go easy on me so he let her hit me...told us to leave him out of it - like we were sisters. As long as we weren't infront of the TV, he didn't care about my bruises. He was hard on my little brother because she was hard on me. Like it was payback to be strict with their son, because she was with his daughter. Guess it was payback, but she just hit me harder.

He would have never left her over me....I wonder if she would have killed me like I asked her to do ....maybe not even then. But he left when she was spending his money without telling him, long after I had decided once meeting my alcoholic mom who cared less what I did was better to live with than my sober step mom who smacked me bacause my dad was drinking and well, because -as she told me when I was 7 - she was jealous of me because he loved me more than her.

Everyone has something they just won't stand for - guess his is stealing his money - not his daughter's childhood. I still love you daddy, but I am not sure I can ever respect you again. Still not sure about you mother, or Beth - as I have so affectionately called you for years. Sometimes, I think I will write and tell you I have a son....for his sake since he has no family...and then I remember how you were when you were drunk and high. I may be a heartless slut of a mom, but I still have to protect him....he has no room for more crazy on his plate beside mine.

I am not sure where I am really going with all this, it has been a while since I have blogged, and I just felt like writing. Catch 22 about writing is....when you write from your pain, you have to be hurting to write....or allow yourself to feel it so it can come out through your fingers. I often stay away from letting it out these days, so as to not open the flood gates that I cannot put back up. I miss writing, does that mean I miss hurting? Wouldn't doubt it, the drama queen that I am....doesn't feel normal to me if it doesn't hurt.

God help my son.

Tags: Reflective

I went to therapy today. Wound up feeling worse when I got outta there. She wanted me to talk about losin the baby. (I call her Jasmine) I broke down. I know it's good to get these things out but it seems when I talk about them, it makes all my sadness resurface. Anyway, I wanted a smoke SO bad after that, and I did smoke. When I got back to work, my "ex" that I contracted the STD from and had lost her from wants to walk up and say "sup?" when he could very well see I was attempting to let him pass me without a word. After that, I had another mild panic attack and started shaking and I smoked another cigarette.It had become sort of a way to control my crying spells, so now what do I do instead? I may talk to my psychiatrist next visit about getting a perscription to help with quitting. I really don't want my son seeing me smoke or thinking it is ok to do it. Plus, it smells on my clothes and my hair.

Anyway, I don't know why I allow myself to get all worked up over him and everything that I went through with him. I have been through alot in life and nothing has ever effected me quite like this. Makes me feel weak and pathetic.

Tags: Disappointed

Sorry I have not been very sociable in the last few days, guys... I am back at work and trying to get used to being on a schedule where I can't nap when I get the notion. Anyway, I have to admit to you all that I attempted to smoke today on my lunch break. I was tired and just wanted something to help me relax...but I only took 2 puffs. I guess that is about like a recovering alcoholic saying they only took 2 sips. But, it tasted nasty to me after all this time and I had to put it out. So, because of that - i did not reset my counter, but to set the record straight....I DID take 2 puffs today ... as for my strep throat, I am doing better. I guess that was another reason I suddenly had the craving for a smoke again.

Tags: Tired

I forgot to add.....due to my sore throat during my beach trip, I was unable to smoke any cigarettes AT ALL, or even think about it! The last one I had was Monday morning, and I haven't had the desire since. My grams is a chain smoker, so the temptation could have been there, but it was not. So, I am taking this opportunity to QUIT!! I will keep everyone updated as to whether or not I REMAIN smoke free!!

Tags: Wonderful

Ok, so we went to the beach on Mother's Day - my Grams, my son, and I. We got back last night. Monday, I wake up with a sore throat, headache, body aches, fever of 102- the works. Can't eat, can barely drink. My tonsils are swollen so much you can hardly tell there is a whole in the back of my mouth. This went on for the entire trip.

But, let me elaborate. My grandmother is the type who believes that anyone who is younger than her, can handle anything and because of her age- (she is only 70) - she is the only person on earth allowed to have aches and pains or complaints. So, my week consists of me having 2 children to handle...One is 2 1/2 and has tantrums, meltdowns, and crying spells - along with messy pull-ups, constantly being hungry for food we DO NOT have, and wanting to watch movies on a portable DVD player that Grams conveniently does not know how to work.

The OTHER child is older, 70 years old - to be exact, and can reach all those annoying things in a hotel room that you would otherwise be thankful that your smaller child cannot, such as - the EXTREMELY BRIGHT overhead light in the room, the microwave with an annoyingly loud "ding", the bathroom and front doors that will not close without slamming them, the sink that apparantly does not give out any water unless it is turned on FULL BLAST and the refrigerator door, also needing to be slammed in order to close properly. This child does not know the area, and wakes me frequently to ask where can she get ice, where do they sell ice cream, how much does going to the pier cost, will I get up and drive her to go eat, and am I getting up at all and ofcourse, my other child needs

Whew! I have to say, in many ways - I am GLAD to be home. I did make myself get up everyday to do SOMETHING with my child so I would not ruin his vacation. Sunday - we went to the beach when we got there, Monday we did the same and went to the pier. Tuesday, I made myself blow up his inflatable car so that we could get in the pool (ouch!!!my throat!!) And Wednesday, we had to come back but we hit the beach in the AM before leaving and we went to the aquarium before heading back. That was fun, he was SO excited about the fish, turtles, etc.

So, we get back last night and I feel like I am going to collapse from all the driving, no eating, fever, etc. After I took my grams home, my son and I headed home and hit the bed. This morning, I drop him off at daycare, go to therapy, then make my way to the doc. STREP THROAT. Big surprise, I always have had throat problems, but when I think back to the past week or so, I think about my son's sniffles and almost raw nose. So, since I am still on leave until Monday, I think I may as well pick him up and take him to his doc to be safe. I think, he probably has allergies again, they will suggest Claritin and I am already giving him that. I tell them I have strep and she does a throat culture on him - STREP THROAT!

WHAT???? Oh my POOR BABY!! And he is being such a brave little man. All week while I was whining, lying in bed, complaining, hardly able to move - using all these "pains" as excuses for him having to be quiet, to calm down, to sit still for a minute, to STOP DOING THAT- my sweetie had it too! I feel so bad. Even his doctor commented on how well he seemed to feel for someone who had strep throat.

So, we go get soup, juice, and yogurt for todays meals and get our prescriptions filled. Then, I take him straight home and we both take our meds and lye down. I just woke up because I heard him get up and go to the bathroom. How do I feel? Still miserable, but I can already tell that the swelling has somewhat gone down in my throat. No desire to leave my room, I brought the juice and a cup in here with me as a matter-of-fact. How does he feel? After an hour and a half of watching Gremlins on my TV in my bed with me, my son is no longer interested in "rest" and could care less if it is supposed to make him feel "better". He says he is all better. In his room playing with his toys, bringing me his new-found treasures every few minutes to share.

 So, I guess what my son has taught me is....things are only as bad as you let them be. Sure, my throat looks worse than his and he does not have a fever, but his nose is RAW with blood and all and he just says "I will blow my nose mommy, put some medicine on it" And he is still fussing over me like I am the child. He just asked me "you not need rest no more, mommy? it's time for you to get up?" and he has been asking me all day if my froat (throat) still hurts. What would I do without him??

Tags: Tired

You Are 40% AbnormalYou are at low risk for being a psychopath. It is unlikely that you have no soul. You are at high risk for having a borderline personality. It is very likely that you are a chaotic mess. You are at low risk for having a narcissistic personality. It is unlikely that you are in love with your own reflection. You are at high risk for having a social phobia. It is very likely that you feel most comfortable in your mom's basement. You are at low risk for obsessive compulsive disorder. It is unlikely that you are addicted to hand sanitizer.

it really just blows my mind-
all you were to me, and i was nothing to you,
my whole life, i never thought i'd find
someone i'd let my guard down with and give my all to

but it seems i saw more than was there
i misread that look in your eyes
i wanted to hope love could be in a place where
nothing but sorrow and pity lies

i tasted more than a moment in your kiss,
i felt more than just for now in your touch
thought it would be so much more than this
but i realize it was me who wanted it so much

i heard something like forever in your voice,
i spoke of my dreams and promised my heart
but i was not hearing your choice
that you did not want anything but to be apart

i have never been so unaware
my reality not been so clouded
as to see what is not really there
to believe in what i should have doubted

i feel so naive and pathetic now
after i finally know the truth
i can't figure out why or how
i was so blinded by my faith's youth.

03/27/07

Tags: Disappointed

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