A little hint of me

She is sitting here

Next to me

A tainted little girl with tainted little dreams

Clawing at her throat

Twisting away from me

Am I the reason she screams, am I the reason she bleeds?

Sitting here

Next to me

A broken little girl with broken little dreams

Clawing at her eyes

Begging me to leave

I bet I am the reason that she suffers still, the reason she can’t sleep.

But for the life of me

I can not bring myself to care

After Motherhood

I once cursed a friend for not caring. She laid her hand on my growing belly and told me I was lying about the pain. Stretch marked marred my flesh and yet she begged me to cry. Said it would help if I just downplayed my emotions.

Feelings hurt the baby you see.

Every laugh

Every cry

The baby feels it.

She felt that I was lying about the pain. Said it would go away as she stroked my aching breast. The one dripping milk upon her dust filled carpet. Tugging away only brought her closer. Her words like ember upon my burning flesh.

A child lay dying inside of me and yet she said it was worth it.

I should be happy with the gift given to me. The chance to explore feelings once more. My happiness at being with child destroyed its very soul.

There should be no pain, at least that is what she is telling me.

Running her hand along my slit as I force the heart from my body. Grey tones and broken bones but I should feel no pain. It isn’t worth it, she said, it’s all a lie.

I cursed a friend for not caring. For saying that my pain was fake. She told me I was lying as I laid my heart to rest. But I guess the curse was worth it.

Update

I am in college now. I figured things would be easy but I forgot just how depression works. Every encouraging word is met with a voice telling me that I am fucking up. How do I explain to people that what they say is nice but mt brain won’t let me except it.

My professor flagged my profile and talked about what a wonderful job I was doing. But I couldn’t…I couldn’t accept it.

I feel like such a failure. I do not have anyone I can talk about this with. Not to say I haven’t tried but everyone has their own problems to work through.

I want to self harm like crazy but I can’t. I don’t want my daughter disappointed in me. The urge is getting louder. I do not know how much time I have before I just give in or blow up.

A statement

I know to learn how to forgive myself for my mistakes. To not let all my flaws get to me. I know I allow them go control my life and it starts to effect that of my daughters.

I love her so much and I can see how my mental disorder is taking a toll on her.

I need to learn how to forgive myself before it is to late.

B is for Blush

I am not sure how old I was when I loat my first friend. I know I was fairly young and the idea of death wasn’t really big. I knew people died but it didn’t really mean much. Death was final and yet not final at the same time. This may have been because I went to my first funeral when I was around two years old.

I remember the casket clearly. Or as clear as a possible two year old can. It was white…maybe pink. So very very tiny. It held the body of a young girl who had died in her sleep. She seemed big to me though I have been told that the girl was around my age.

Her casket was tiny but she appeared so big.

I remember dancing and playing in the aisles as people cried. There was so much crying going on. I didn’t know this girl…it wasn’t until I was older that I realized I never would.

As I aged I went to a lot of funerals. Never again a child and nearly always males. The female line of my family tends to live forever it seems. I only have one grandfather who is still alive. I have lost many uncles and great uncles and great great uncles. And make cousins…yes…I have lost plenty of those as well.

But

That casket.

That tiny casket with the not so tiny girl. She has always stuck in my mind.

I am not sure if I was related to her. My mother doesn’t like to talk about her much since she was born the same year as my older sister. I think maybe even just hours apart and at the same hospital. I think it makes my mom feel guilty that her child lived while the other ladies child did not.

I am not sure though. I have only met the mother once. I remember the hungry look in her eyes every time she glanced at my sister.

As a kid I figred she was some creepy lady. As in adult I understand. I understand her looks and shaking hands as she patted my sisters face. I understand why she ignored me. I understand why her and my mother walked on egg shells when they spoke. I understand it all to well.

See while I have never lost a child I lost a friend at a very young age. I have lost siblings. I have seen friends cry after they spoke of the children they had lost.

I have seen blushing brides with a baby bump turn to tear stained widows with scars.

I have seen it all and more.

So, while I have never lost a child, I can still grieve with them. I can hold them close and understand. Maybe not fully but enough to be there when needed

Rational irrationality

I am angry, and in my head it js for a very valid reason.

I am angry and no amount of “your being unfair” is going to fix it.

I am angry and your anger will only ignite it.

Today is my daughters birthday. My pride and joy is turning four years old.

Yet to me it was a horrible day.

She did have a really good day but it hurt to hear all these excues to why people didn’t call to talk to her.

Not as though anyone makes time for her most any other day but I thought people would try to make an effort to speak to her. Those who did called later on in the day. Late late at night when any other day she woukd have been preparing for bed.

I understand that people work and what not but seriously. No one could call before work? Are lunch breaks not a thing? She is four. She doesnt care if you call long enough to even just sing her happy birthday. Rarely does she ever want to sit on the phone for longer than five mins. Yet no one…no one called her during reasonable hours. Only two people had a valid excuse and even they called pretty. Her aunts,uncles,cousin,father, grandparents no one called her.

Yet those who do not share her blood made time for her. They helped me throw her an amazing party. They got her presents she will cherish greatly ( for the next few months or so)

People started flooding in with their love and well wishes after I made a post for not calling, but again this was people who didn’t share her blood.

My best friends…my supposed best friends said nothing.

I can’t help but hate the world right now for this very simple reason.

Whether I am being rational or not is not something I care about at this moment.

I know it is silly but right now I feel…betrayed. Yes betrayed because I always try to be there for others and yet no one seems to care about the most important person to me. Damn my birthday and other memorable events.

It is her day. The celebration of her life and how dare they say they love and care for her when they can’t even make time out of theirs to check up on her.

I am so done with everything.

She still had a good day but I will remember this.

Listen and repeat

I want to show you that I love you

Is there a way in which I can do this?

One day I got sick. Nothing to bad but bad enough to were I couldn’t get out of bed without experiencing some pain. Being a single parent, an illness like this can be hard to deal with.

My child understood I was sick but not why every time I moved I suddenly wanted to cry or why I sat on the couch most of the day.

She always plays even when she is sick and wanted me to do the same. So I had to work through my pain and be there for her. Even when I just wanted to lay down and sleep. I still made all of her meals, watched tv, and played games with her.

I wanted to give up and sleep so bad though. At one point I actually did fall asleep. My daughter stayed by my side the whole time playing on my phone.

I felt like such a monster when I woke up. How could I fall asleep while my child was awake???

But what could I do?

I had no one who could watch her. The last time I went to the hospital over an illness they called CPS cause I didn’t have anyone to watch her while I went to the emergency room and was potentially admitted. So that was out of the question.

Basically I was forced to parent through my illness (which was food poisoning by the way my. My daughter didn’t get it cause she doesn’t eat meat and I was experimenting)

I think most parents, even many single parents, do not think about stuff like this.

How they will go about things sick and without help.

I once knew of a family where both mother and child were wheelchair bound. Do people understand how difficult that is?

Not many.

We take things for granted all the while judging others for not being just like us.

Sitting in the battle field

Grabbed the man I tried to kill

Looked in the eye and questioned why

Why must we go through life

With blinders in our eyes

Looking forward in days on end

Thinking naught of those who stand

Beside us as we crawl on by

Judge them harshly for choices unknown

As though we do have to make our own

Standing on the battle field

Clutching the hand of the man I tried to kill

Asking God for the reason why

Taking this life was seen as right

What made him beneath me

What made it so we can’t see

Those who stand Beside as

As we crawl through people we can’t see

Bloody hands are grasping me

Eyes clenched but begging me

What gives us the right to what life

Is worth less then another’s

We go through life breathing

Deceiving those who stand close by

Ignoring them with all out might

But judging them if they come within sight

Walking across the battle field

I can no longer feel a thing