 |
| My Child and My Inner Child |
I know none of you really know me except through this blog. But, I am an honest, upfront person. I can take a lot of crap from people, put up with their bull, etc. etc. But, there comes a time when I cannot take anymore and I have to eject them from my life...yes, just like the eject button in an air force jet. Well, for the GA zillionth time, I pressed the eject button yesterday. Same person was ejected because I was rejected. This is not just any ordinary person. This is my child...my child that I took care of for oh so many years because she has some health issues and some mental issues. I had second cousins sending me 'Happy Mother's Day' wishes and wishing me well. But, what do I get from my child...after getting her car fixed and getting her a new phone, bringing her food (when I am supposed to be giving her "tough love")...an ugly text that her computer is not working and more and more ugly words. Not one word about mother’s day. And it is not because she forgot. Probably the first reaction from people that read this will be "What did you do to her?" "Did you abuse her?" Since, I was abused as a child, many people will rush to judgment and think that I did the same to her...well the answer is NO I DID NOT ABUSE HER. NO, I WAS NOT PERFECT EITHER. But, I did everything in my power to protect her and help her while she was growing up. She moved out, moved back in, moved out, moved back in...until, she became angry at us because she had to depend on us. Long story short, I do not understand why this is happening and I can't take it anymore. This pain is so deep and unlike any other pain I have ever felt in my entire life. And believe me when I say that I have been through a LOT OF PAIN from the past, from the memories I have recovered and what all of this has done to my mind and the way I think. But nothing hurts worse than this…NOTHING, NOTHING, NOTHING. I keep trying to hold on, to make myself want to live, but now there is just another hole in my heart that cannot be filled.
