24 10 / 2012
My Granny Liz is one of the most amazing women you will ever meet. She is funny, grouchy, loving and all around an amazing woman. She makes the best grilled cheese you have ever tasted. I cannot recall a single time I needed her and she wasn’t there for me. I have so many amazing memories with her I cannot begin to count them. She was moved into Hospice care last night and a part of me has died. I don’t know how life will ever be the same without her. I feel so selfish for not wanting her to go.
I love you Granny Liz
08 10 / 2012
I want to write a book. It is something that has been weighing on my mind for about 3 years now. I don’t know where to begin and really who would want to read it. It would be a memoir of my fucked up childhood and stupid mistakes I made as an adult. I had such a terrible childhood and it led to so many bad choices in my life, I think? Am I too old to still blame my childhood for how fucked up I am?
I still have no relationship with my parents. I never think of them and rarely talk to them. I don’t have the nerve to tell them how bitter I still am and just how much they fucked me up. I hear them talk, but I don’t listen. I have no connection with them. I am jealous of people that have a real relationship with their parents. I was never daddy’s little girl or momma’s pride and joy. I have an older brother I haven’t spoken to in almost three years. I have a little sister I speak to very rarely. They both get along with my parents and seem to think I am the outcast. They can’t see the damage they have done.
My mother is to blame for most of my insecurities. I still don’t think I can please her. She is responsible for the terrible relationship I have with my daughter. I am so afraid my daughter will one day feel as indifferent about me as I do about my mother, and as my mother feels about her mother. It is a vicious cycle, but how do I break it.
08 10 / 2012
I hate getting older. I feel so old and washed up, like my life is over. I weigh more now than I have ever in my life, including when I was pregnant. I am not “fat”, but I am curvy. I don’t like it.
I feel ugly. I was always told how beautiful I was when I was younger, I miss that. I can count 100’s of things I hate about me and there’s nothing I can do. I won’t be able to grow old gracefully.
I am still so bitter at my parents for what a terrible job they did raising me. I have nightmares still.
One of my biggest fears is he will realize I am not as great as he thinks and will stop loving me. Everyone stops loving me. I hate that I am so forgettable. I just want to be special to someone for once.
I am in a better place now than I was this time last year, so this time next year things will have to be better, right?
13 9 / 2012
I have been in Louisiana for a month now. Leaving Tennessee was easier than I thought, but adjusting to life here is harder than I ever imagined. I have no friends, no one to stop by and say hi. My day starts at 5:45 each morning and it’s a struggle every day to find the strength to continue.
I am alone all day, my friends are at work so no one to text or call. My classes are all online so no interaction with other classmates. I am so far in the country it’s a ridiculous drive to anywhere and once I get there I have no one to see. The highlight of my day is going to the mailbox. I do occasionally make a trip around the yard to disturb the massive ant hills (these things are unreal).
I normally have the house clean and laundry finished by noon. That leaves all afternoon to pace and think. When 14 makes it home from school he has no time for me. He just wants to zone out in front of the television and eat. So I begin dinner so when Will gets home his dinner will be ready.
Will gets home at 6:00 each night. He comes in showers, eats and in bed by 8:00. No one even notices I am here unless they need something washed, cooked or fixed. No one ever ask how my day is or can they do anything for me. Most nights they go to bed and forget to even tell me goodnight.
I know there are so many people that have it so much worse than I do and my complaining is selfish. I have a nice home, drive a nice car, my kids are amazing people that will make a difference in the world (I know it) and my boyfriend loves me like no one ever has. I guess I just don’t understand why I feel so alone when I have so much. I just want to matter.