I ask for strength to move forward. Grant me guidance to find the path of happiness and grace.
Parenting is hard under the best of circumstances, but under the worst circumstances, it can be and is a nightmare. It's like a walk on a long dirt road all alone, no one to talk to, no one to share what it really feels like. No one cares no one sees and everyone just closes their eyes to your pain; it doesn't matter to them they only see what they want to see. So why do it? Trust me, I have asked myself that question more times than I can count. Still do to this day. My mother said once that I must enjoy making my life harder than it has to be. Truth is I love my husband and would never leave him. Truth is no matter what is thrown at me and no matter how much I am hurt by these children, I do love them. Does that make me pathetic? Honestly? I don't know. Some times I feel that way. Sometimes I get in the car and drive, music cranked up and I scream as loud as I can. I yell. I cuss. I cry. But at the end I drive back home and start again. This is my story. This is what I have been through and this is what I have felt and do fell. It is my rant. It won't be pretty and it will not be sugar coated. For years I have kept this all bottled up and hidden in the darkest places of my heart, mind and soul. I haven't shared this with family and only one friend has heard most of this. So why now do I write this down and share it? Simple, I can not keep it locked away any longer. I no longer feel embarrassed. What I feel is pain and anger and I feel done most days. I feel alone in this and I am done feeling alone. Maybe others can relate or maybe others will hate me, but if there is just one person out there that is going through the same type of thing and that person feels alone, then they will know that they are not alone. And since I decide to write this all down and throw it out into the world, I feel a weight lifted from me. For the first time in a long time I feel good. So here it goes and I'll see where this journey takes me. Who knows maybe I'll even be happy in the end.
Waiting, standing silently, looking through the doorway,
The scariest part of living is passing through phases and changes of growing older. The child grows in a young adult, learning their bodies, developing their ideas, and trying to determine who they are. The caterpillar becomes the butterfly but what happens to the butterfly when its wings grow weak and the colors fade that once made that butterfly special and unique? Does the butterfly wither and slowly die or does the butterfly change and become something more beautiful? As time passes what happens when the butterfly decides that it no longer wishes to be a butterfly or was never really a butterfly?
You stole my heart with a single white rose;