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.