There are days when I mourn her loss, though I never really knew her at all. What I want most is to love her. And what I’m truly mourning I think, is my failure and inability to truly see her, acknowledge her, console her, wrap her up in my arms and love her, encourage her, and help her grow to see safety in the world around her so that she can become the best she can be.
Seriously. I just can’t. I’m so tired. Why does everything have to be so f*cking hard? Why do I always feel so alone? Like I’ve got no one ever to lean on or talk to or depend on? I’m just so tired of this horseshit life. I’m angry and hurt and sad and so many things all at once. In two weeks it will have been 27 years since my
It’s getting harder to wake up each morning, yet I continue to do so for my children more than anything. They’re almost all grown. Nowhere near ready to tackle life entirely on their own quite yet. I’m growing more hopeless and tired of struggling all the time. Every day. Every single day. Why is it so hard to get by in this world? Is it because I just can’t conform
Been a while, but it’s nice to see you again. I’m seriously not an Adele fan, but it seemed sort of amusingly fitting for the occasion! So many changes have happened in my life over the course of these last six or so months that I wouldn’t even really know where to begin. Instead, I think I’ll just pick up again as if the habitual lapse in posting was a
Chutzpah. Merriam-Webster says it’s: supreme self-confidence: nerve, gall. I don’t have it. You know who does have it? Donald J. Trump. In spades. Outwardly anyway. I’m not sure it’s even a good trait to have in most situations. I mean, if you’re supremely self-confidant, one could argue that it works to your detriment. That one with chutzpah shuts down any naysayers and refuses to consider any alternate options or opinions.