Struggling

Today is one of those days, I wish I could climb into bed and just cry.

Where I sit and think really, why does my life have to be this way? I didn't ask to be put on this earth and I certainly don't know why I am left to straighten out this mess I was thrown into.

I am not saying I am perfect I have a ton of my own shit to clean up. I am however saying; having lived the life I was given from birth till I was adult enough to make my own choices is just rotten. I have to figure out how to be different and live fearless but I just can't seem to do it. And it's frustrating.

I love the people in my life now and I love they love me. However, I am freaked the heck out. At the prospect of hurting them because I feel like a rotten human being, like I am so needy and they might hate that. And really it's just my own head spinning a hundred miles a minute. With crap....... just trash really. I know it and I see it but I can't help but feel it's true.

Then I feel stuck again. Why do they love me? And maybe they just feel sorry for me? Maybe they don't know or want to say go the hell away already Angela.

UGH

I wish this could be the easy part but it's almost harder than just accepting my worthlessness to family. I have to struggle to find myself and understand myself and feel understood and not like a complete freak.

I feel like this tiny little girl sitting in a dark corner of some room alone. Yet I am 30 seriously people when will that little girl go away? I don't like the feelings that come from her, the haunting, loneliness, guilt, shame for wanting to be loved.

Why is it so hard to let people love me? I mean ok yes, I know because in the past the only way I was loved was if I earned it and even then it could so easily be taken away. Or I guess love was used as a punishment. And it wasn't earned easily at all, I love you was so rarely heard in our home. Hugs and affection weren't something you would see if you came in.

And yet, as an adult I crave it so much. Sometimes I wish I could be 5 again crawl into someone's lap and just be. Then on the same hand that seems so silly. But really I am being honest in wanting that. Yes I am a grown woman with a good husband but he isn't the same as having a mother who loves you, or a father who adores you

He shouldn't fill that roll and I wonder if that ever goes away. How did I become so affectionate? I wasn't shown it and I crave it.

For the longest time up until the past 7 months or so I would feel my skin crawl if someone touched it. I would say to myself "please don't touch me" if I was hugged. I think best described by someone recently it burned to be touched. Touch was never a good thing. It was either being touched sexually by the wrong people or being smacked upside the head or in the face. With all the physical marks to prove it.

Then sometimes I wish I had the bruises to show the pain because often it wasn't physical at all. It was "I wish I had an abortion with you 16 years ago, like my mother told me to do", "You ruined my life", "I can't even stand to look at you", "what did I do to deserve this life?", "Not that your not pretty but your sister has it all going for her, she could do and be anything", "Ugly babies grow up to be pretty and pretty babies ugly. You were such a pretty baby and your sister was not cute at all", "I don't know if you were ever sexually abused I wasn't there to see it", "Your so ugly when you cry".

I grew up with this complex that simply being on this earth was runining everyone's lives around me. That somehow by being born even though I certaintly didn't ask to be was a huge mistake and there would never be anything I could do to earn their love or affection.

So I just watched life go by my eyes, often in envy of those who had parents who adored them, loved them, spoke of them with value.

I often felt God was just punishing me, how could you not feel that way? I was abadonded, unloved and tortured so to speak. I was always last if at all. Nothing I ever did reaped the rewards of parents who loved me, family who wanted me, who even knew I was around.

I thought out of all the men who came in and out of my mothers lives, I had to be lucky at least one of them would see I was worth loving. But that was never the case. It was more important to drink and use drugs with my mom and get layed. She wasn't shy about any of that.

At times I remember clinging to the thought of having a dad. But it was diminshed when I realized how often they came and left. So my dad was this man who adopted me when I was a few years old and then had a heartattack when I was 4.

Spending time with a father ment sitting on a mans grave talking to him,crying, telling him about what was going on in my life and wishing he was here to see me and love me.

Then I think about how much I deeply love my kids, but the guilt that I had them. That I put them on this earth to feel pain. And I can only hope I am not screwing them up but really and if I am honest then I worry about how can I do things different when I struggle so much. Did I have them out of filling a void and proving i could do better? Probably so. How unfair is that to them?

That doesn't mean they don't mean the world to me that I wouldn't die for them but it's still hard when you feel like you are incompetent to do better. I wouldn't trade them for the world I don't want that to come out. I just wish I would of wanted kids for the right reasons in the beginning rather than to fill that void of no one loving me. I sometimes feel like I am in over my head because of that.

Courage

I came across a quote awhile back ago that went something like this.

Courage doesn't always roar. Sometimes courage is the quiet voice at the end of the day saying, "I will try again tomorrow.” Mary Anne Radmacher

Oh how fitting that has been for me. I think I have been courageous for a few months now. Did I just say something nice about myself? Yikes !! I guess I did.

None the less I have been doing a ton of work on myself, in myself and with God. I have let people in, that a year ago I wouldn't of. It was never a good thing to rely on anyone, to trust anyone. It was a way to wake up to a broken heart. I kept anyone who showed interest in me at an arms length. I was to the point where now I could have a say in the outcome of things, relationships I guess.

And so if I thought I would get hurt I would just end the friendship. I didn't want people to find out about me, about what I had been through. I would fear they would either 1. Run as quick as possible in the other direction, think horrible things. Or 2. Pitty me for what kind of life I had been through, tell me how strong I was. When I felt like a small scared mouse honestly. And then they would later hurt me, leave me. So I guess 2 would be love me out of pitty not love me authentically.

I have totally thrown myself at a bus the last few months. It has been terrifying to say the least. I am letting people in, forming relationships and using this brokenness I have been dealt to try to change the world one person at a time.

I have formed several relationships~ One of the most important to God. I am letting him steer the wheel in my life. It's insane sometimes, scary and exciting all at once. Then a few new friends. Which, to be honest I still worry they will walk out of my life too. I feel so good most days about letting them in, and others I sit waiting for them to walk out, for them to change, to decide I am not worth loving.

A few times I have found myself trying to push them away, and I am not sure if they even noticed, probably not..... Mostly because I catch myself do it. But it's so hard when everyone who should of loved you didn't. I have a giant family right here in Co with me. And yet, I am pretty much alone.

I find myself from time to time slipping back into the old me, the scared, nervous, anxious little girl, inside me. It's hard to be courageous at times.

And it's even harder when I have totally put myself out there, when I stand a huge chance of being hurt by people I know. I am taking risks I never thought I would. And I am only hoping God keeps giving me the courage to keep going.

It's not easy being codependant, and wanting so much just to be loved.

I have a dam big heart, and I worry other people may think it's to buy their friendship. I promise it's not. I just love those in my life well. I try as hard as I can to know if tomorrow never comes you knew I loved you. Not with gifts that necessarly cost, but my hugs, my time, my texts letting you know I am thinking of you. Anything I can do.......... I am a card freak, I just enjoy letting people know I care.

A good old friend brought up something I long shoved into a little box in the back of my head so I would never have to deal with it again........ And I am glad she brought it up, even though she feels bad. I need courage to put this one out there too...

I am scared, I hate myself for it, and I don't want anyone to think less of me. So I will continue to pray for courage to help others, to let someone know they aren't alone if they too have been through this....

I can't change it but I can use it...

Do you ever just want...........

Your life to be semi normal? To not feel like the person with all these things attached to you?

I know there is no real normal, but for so long I've always felt like an outcast, like a person with a disease whom no one would want to be around.

Normal for me is/was......Being alone, isolated by my own choice and sometimes by my family, feeling like I'm from another planet where..... Cutting, wanting to die that was normal. Sitting in sadness most of the time, or fear 99% of the time. Do people really not live that way?

Normal became my father molesting me, my father abandoning me, my mother very verbally and physically abusing me. But somewhere inside I knew it wasn't normal.

Whether it be just looking at another family, my friends family or any one's family really. They didn't function the way we did. They laughed, did things together, hugged, held each other, sure maybe even they cried. We were so much different, we lived in silence or total yelling chaos all the time. Bruises are normal I guess that's why for the longest time when I first started cutting I didn't hide the marks, until I realized that other people were confused by them.

Even as a grown adult I can be in a room full of people and still feel like an outcast, isolated and alone. This is something I have to learn to just let go. But at the same time I am not sure how to.

I have been thinking about this a lot lately. When I am told I am loved, or held, I embrace it and then later I freak out about it. I am not sure why that is, other than because it's so unknown and unfamiliar. And if I am honest, I am sitting and waiting in fear. That person will love me, change their mind about me or they will hurt me. I just have this horrible feeling sitting in the pit of my stomach.

But I am trying my best to be who I was made to be which is someone who loves so deeply, so I am going to keep doing it, even if it's in fear. Eventually, it will start to feel normal and good more than not.

I just wish ...........................

It wasn't so darn hard to not feel like a freak.............

I wish I could let others love me without fear......................

I wish I could love myself...........................

I wish I had never been molested and that it didn't feel so vial still, that talking about it didn't make me cringe........................................

That I could forgive myself.........................................

That I could believe God loves me.............................

That my friends love me............................................

That it will all be ok...............................................

That I am not weak for needing help..............................

That I am strong and death isn't the right choice.....................

That suicide isn't something needing to be achieved to have peace...................

That I am beautiful and my abuse isn't my physical characteristics.....................................

That sex really isn't this nasty thing people do, that it can be fun without pain.........

That my life is for a purpose not torment.........................................................

That I will do better than my parents did and not screw up my little ones....................................

That I am bringing light to Jesus and not shame..............................................

That if people know what I have been through, they will still love me not run from me................

Somedays I feel like I am on the edge of a cliff, ready to say screw it........ Lately I have been finding myself teetering on the edge so close. Many don't even know it. But I feel so broken and lost, sad more than not.

Maybe it's because of all the work I am doing, in combination of my son's 4th heavenly birthday just weeks away, and for some reason this year is just too hard. I know that letting people in has been freeing but yet it's also got me freaked out. That I am depending on them too much and it will scare them off. That my husband may be taking a different path in his career which I am blessed he will get to do. However I will be alone for weeks on end, and isolation will really set in. I am scared to be alone.

But the good part of all of this, is that I have been putting myself out there to get a little more help, to find people I can spend time with and trust.

I just want to feel like a normal person not a freak.

Cutting, Suicide, Eating disorders and a bottle of pills.

Alright it's time to spill it, all of it.

I was never a happy child, I pretended my dad was just this bussiness man away on a long trip and he will be back soon, or someone someday will love me and adopt me, and take me from this foster home.... Well it got old pretty fast and my own lies to myself faded into a horrible reality, of this is my home. No one wants me. And he wants me but just to hurt me. She loves me because she has to out of obligation.

That was my bandaid to make myself feel better to drift away from the reality of my life.

Sixth grade became the year of "I can't do this anymore". This was a turning point of dealing with the molestation for two years already, and my mom and I's relationship crashing.

Sixth grade was the year I said "screw this life, death is a much easier option", it's the year I took a bottle of aspirin. Now I will tell you I a learned a lesson way fast. I to this day do not even take a pill unless I am dying in pain, or to save my childs life like I had to with my last two kids.

I spent days puking, couldn't hear because my ears were ringing, and I was plain ass miserable. It was not a pleasent situation, and I remember thinking to myself, "Even this I can't do right, something as simple as killing myself I failed at. Did I not take enough pills? and to top it off I get to deal with this puking miserable feeling", and I think something along the lines of "God must really hate me"

I can only remember actually trying that one time to kill myself, other times I just dreamed about it, and I mean litterly sitting even day dreaming about my own funeral, I wrote suicide letters and just thought of how the world would be if I was gone.

I associated not being successful at killing myself as being too weak to accomplish it.

Since I couldn't kill myself I took up the aspect of cutting. I used glass, paper clips, sharp pencils metal pieces etc to just sit and cut myself, really anything I could get my hands on at the time. Almost always on my wrists, but once someone caught on I started on my legs. Wrists provided a much different release though. I always thought maybe just maybe I would cut deep enough through a vein and die that way. I still have two small scars to remind me of this past.

Somehow I thought if I punished myself, the punishment I was getting in life, would feel so much easier to handle. I also hated myself because of all the things that had happened to me.

Then not only did I cut, but I also picked up a nasty eating disorder, which by the way I sucked at. This still semi lingers into my adult years. But nothing to be concerned about.

As a young child and teen if I was upset I would punish myself by not allowing myself to eat, and if I had to eat because I was with someone a simple salad was all. But I was pretty darn good at getting away with not eating. That was the best part of having parents who were too absorbed in their own world to know or care.

I tried eating and puking but I again was too weak for that one. I did it for a few months and just couldn't stick my hands down my throat anymore.

As an adult its nothing I do consciously but if I am mad, sad, or feel I have done something wrong I can go a few days without eating. Again not intentional.... just habit.

That is until I started the slimgenics program nine months ago and got chewed out a few times, for making my meotablism take a nose dive each time. I have gotten better about this, but I still from time to time find myself back in old patterns. Like this past week I had not eaten for a few days until I relaized that's why I was so sick. I am not one who eats for comfort but I starve because of emotions.

I am not posting this because I think this is an option, but I know a lot of people suffer like I did and suicide seems the most comforting logical answer admist the pain.

Do I ever now feel this way, well do you really want me to be honest?

Two years ago absolutely, I was done I couldn't live this life of a mom who lost her baby anymore. It was too hard and I was so sick of feeling like God hated me, god wanted to punish me for whatever horrible things I had done or would do. I layed in bed with a bottle of sleeping pills the hospital gave me when I lost my son. I opened the lid and closed it several time and toyed with the idea of taking them. I cried, I yelled in my head at God. I told him this shit life he gave me was a sick joke. I just wanted to get away from this life I had delt. I knew the pain I had would never really go away no matter how much time had passed. I wanted to feel normal yet all these "things" I had been through made me feel so far from normalcy.

And then I sobbed, I kept it in my head that I had three beautiful kids that if no one else they loved and needed me. And I called my grief counselor, just when I thought I was going to take the bottle of pills. And I quickly ran into the bathroom and flushed the pills, I was so scared I was going to do it.

Then I had I don't know what you would call it, flushers remorse (ok seriously kidding on the wording), because now I had nothing to excape this life that I was willing to try.

I later learned that was a sign I was too strong to quit and God was with me.

Although me and him still have some pretty interesting fights. Just one yesterday. He has too much love for me sometimes, too much faith, too much trust. And a vision I think he is crazy for.

There are still times when I find myself having a pitty party and that I think death would be easier, no one would care and if they did. They would quickly get over it. I am not that important.

Now before you come kick my ass if you do love me, please just let my pain speak and be real. It might not make sense and yes, your right suicide is selfish and an excape. But sometimes the pain is that much........ that an excape is all I want. I find myself from time to time sitting and wondering if I matter that much? If I was gone would it really make a difference? Questions to some that might seem silly, but on the other hand very real questions I face from time to time.


If this was too much I am sorry and if it's just what you needed to not be alone I am so glad.

My counselor told me a few years ago, the next time I felt this way to just wait-it -out, that's all I ask. Wait until tomorrow it might be different. Then again tomorrow may feel just as shitty or worse, I have been there too. It always get's worse before it get's better. But the light at the end of the tunnel is that it will get better.

Maybe not without some work on your part, maybe all the work you will have to do is reaching out to someone letting them know you need help to lighten your load, to help you.

Who is that girl?

As long as I can remember I know I hated looking in the mirror...looking at that girl that starred back at me. Sure I looked in it, to get ready for the day. But I avoided eye contact, and made it quick.

I don't know when it started of course, but I could never believe that was me.

I felt so ugly, and had so much hatred at myself, that a simple glance in the mirror didn't make sense.

How did that girl that looked back at me, have an ounce of life in her? Sure she wasn't beautiful by any means but she wasn't ugly. How is that me?

I felt so cold on the inside, dead, lost, tortured. I guess the best way to describe it would be.......

How I felt on the inside had to remotely appear on the outside to others. I felt like if someone looked at me they just knew, knew who I was. What disgusting thing I had been through.

When I thought of myself, I picture a dirty, ragged, ugly little girl. Sitting perhaps in a corner by herself. So vial not one would imagine coming near her, sitting with her and definitely not loving her. How could they???


Here at almost 31, I realize how tainted my vision of myself was. I didn't love myself there was no way anyone else would want to love me either.

And a big AND if they did love me, they too just wanted to hurt me, to take advantage of her too.

I hid behind clothing, nothing reveling that would attract attention and I surely didn't want that. And I don't mean in a sexual way really. But if attention was caused then they would know what disgusting thing had been done to me, that I had allowed to happen to me. Or they would see how easy I was and take advantage of me too. Color was a no no, it would attact attention too.

Even as a skinny girl till my junior year in high school weighing a whole 110-120lbs. I thought I was ugly. I had fat thighs, ugly hair, ugly teeth and my face ugh don't even get me started.

Then I went on the depo shot my junior year of high school. And then I really did get fat. I gained 80lbs in a year. Weight that no matter what sport I played, how much I starved myself, per the doctor it was water weight.

Well water weight was not coming off at all, so then my eating disorder took a nose dive. I became even more obsessed with making sure I punished this fat girl. I starved myself a lot more often, I used food as a punishment. Took it away when I upset someone, and a few times tried to eat and throw up. I could not do that though. It was much easier to just not eat or if I had to eat a salad it was.

Even now as a 30 something adult, I still struggle with that. A lot of people eat to comfort themselves I on the other hand am a food starver. When I am depressed I starve myself.

Not even intentionally anymore, just a habit. When I am mad at myself I don't eat, when I am sad I don't eat and when I feel I let someone down I don't eat. I am so not sure what this accomplishes, other than just like cutting. It's a release.

Don't worry I don't need an intervention, I am a work in progress.

I wish loving myself was easier. But it's not. Here I am 63lbs lighter than I was 9 months earlier, and I still hate the way I look.

I look in the mirror and I see a mistake, I see a beautiful heart yes, but a not so beautiful reflection of myself. I am by far my worst critic I get that.

For example I went clothes shopping the other night. I used to wear a XL sometimes and XXL for comfort to hide myself. And now I am in a large to a medium in shirts. So I need clothes my closet is thin at best. I went into three different stores and walked out with one simple cami top. That's it. I had the money and my husbands approval to get a new wardrobe. But EVERYTHING I tried on, didn't look right, or felt awkward like I was trying too hard to look good/in style. I got frustrated with myself, with the clothes I put everything back on the rack and left.

I hope I can learn to love myself and not glare at myself in disgust when I look in the mirror, I have hope this will get easier. Now I can look at her with admiration of her heart, soul and the triumphet work she is doing, I just want to love her back.

I sometimes sit and wonder, who this girl in the mirror is?


I came across this today and had to share, it hit home...
‎"These tears we cry
are falling rain
for all the lies you told us
the hurt, the blame.
And we will weep to be so alone,
we are lost
we can never go home."

~ lyric by Fran Walsh

Finally I can breathe

I had my interview today with Lifefix and it was emotional, amazing, crazy, scary, terrifying, exciting and a relief all in one.

I was terrified and yet so ready to do it. Although once I was done I had to go sit outside for a few minutes, and just breathe and let lose and cry. Feel each tear drop as it trickled down my face, and embrace it. Tears of joy and tears of fear still.

I can't put into words how it felt really, or not adequately how I feel I guess.

I had to sit across from male, and I was very nervous at first, and my good friend Nan sat close where I could see her. I love her for that, although I never looked at her, I knew the second I did I would lose it and cry. The tears were already so frequent, I didn't want to provoke those darn things.

I spent several moments throughout it chocking up and unable to speak for a second each time. But quickly gained composure and thoughts and started again.

God was so with me, a few times when the interviwer talked I remember saying, "just get up and leave", and I think one time I really considered it. I then felt my loving heavely father rest his hand on my shoulder, telling me I was doing just great. And somehow I pushed through, despite the uncomfortable feelings, emotions.

And I am so glad I did, however when the night falls and you sit alone in bed, or on the car ride home from church alone tonight, I became a mess. Second guessing myself, wondering what on earth I got myself into.

I didn't say some of the things I should of, or could of and I was angry with myself, and then I thought, "Is this really going to help anyone?, or hurt me more?"

And I sobbed and cranked up the radio, nothing of comfort to be found really. But I guess that's where you sit with it. There is no reasoning with myself right now, I'm raw, I'm emotional and overly tired ok exhausted would be much more fitting.

And there isn't a dam thing I can do to change today, how it played out or didn't play out and I need to just pray to God, let go and know that godo will come of this.

Maybe not for several months, maybe not for a year. But good has to come of this.

Another new years over

Last night was dreadful to be honest. I have not celebrated a single new years in 10 years. And the only reason I celebrated that one was because I had just started dating my husband and we just did. Before that I hated New Years.

This is with so much impending stuff surfacing and knowing in a week I will share my story, I couldn't sleep for the life of me.

At one point and I believe it was around 1130ish I just layed in my bed sobbing pratically. My husband had finally drifted off and I couldn't sleep still. I kept recalling all the events in my head.

Then I kept thinking to myself, "And I've forgiven him? Look what he has done to me.". Then I just sobbed to God and told him to please comfort me, to make my head stop. It took awhile but after the ball dropped and 2012 arrived. I turned off the tv and I passed out.

Easier this year? Maybe but also so much harder. I try so hard each year to crawl into bed at an early time, make sure I'm exhausted so I can drift off to sleep fast. This year it was so opposite of that.

Yet, somehow I managed to find a calm peace. My dear, Father resting his hands over me maybe.

Regardless, I am glad it's over. I am going to try to push myself to do something next year.

My resolutions are to, be with friends more, make more time, get closer to God, try to be a more patient mom, and to have fun this next New Years. Maybe that's what I need to further let go ofall this.

Bring it on 2012 I am ready!