Rainbows, of course!

Because my brain is in constant motion, it’s hard to sit. It’s hard to sleep. It’s challenging to do be quiet for an hour during yoga. It’s hard to sit at a 3 hour dinner. It’s hard to have the same monotonous conversation with the same people about the same things. I NEED action, interaction, constant stimulation. It’s exhausting. I wonder if that’s why I took pills. Just to turn the mind off? I didn’t ask for this hand. This need for constant stimulation was dealt to me. By the molester. He determined my fate. Thank you for that. 8 uninterrupted hours of sleep is nothing more than a fantasy for me. Too much stimulation at such a young age is NOT healthy. It sets the tone for a lifetime of incessant need for more….more…more…

I’m constantly changing the furniture around. I need a different view. And I need it often. Yes, I’m conflicted because of this. I just want peace. Sure, I can hop a plane to a fabulous beach and leave behind my worries. But what happens when I come back? They are still there. No matter where I go, there I am. Argh. Remember being pregnant? You just wanted to escape? Escape your body? If only, they could pull the baby out for a week’s vacation to the beach somewhere in the middle of the second trimester and then put her back in… I can escape to a different environment all the time but I can’t escape myself. Nor the baby inside me. I just want a vacation from myself. From my head. From my thoughts. From my demons. And, no, Calgon is not going to help me escape my mind. I’m running a million miles an hour inside my head and I just can’t stop.

What I would give to escape to the one person who is supposed to love me unconditionally. She can take care of me, right? No. Not my mother. I don’t have that luxury. She doesn’t exist. My idea of her actually holding my hand and loving me and taking care of me…that will never happen. She tells me she loves me all the time. When I hear that, I feel nothing. I won the feeling nothing lottery. Emptiness from that woman.

Not my friends. My friends have that feeling of unconditional love. I’m so envious. I watch. I observe. I smile. I wonder. I wonder what’s like to feel love from your mother.

Why can’t I have that? Why did I get dealt that card?

I’m not really consistent at telling my children that I love them. The words simply don’t leave my lips easily. After all, they’re just words, right? I read somewhere where love is a verb. An action verb. Requires doing. I do everyday for my children. I just don’t tell them. I just do it.

So, I have to be the strong woman for my children. The compassionate one. The loving one. And, sadly, at times, the lost one. Sometimes, I feel like I’m just faking it. Had I learned properly, maybe I wouldn’t feel like I’m faking it. I don’t want them ever feeling the way I feel. I want them to feel at peace. I want them to be able to sit. To sleep. To close down their mind knowing that they are loved. That they can feel peace.

Similar Posts

11 Comments

  1. After I originally commented I seem to have clicked on the -Notify me when new comments are
    added- checkbox and now every time a comment is
    added I receive 4 emails with the same comment.
    There has to be a means you can remove me from that service?
    Cheers!

    Also visit my webpage … Nico Bartes Kochrezepte

  2. Hey there! Someone in my Facebook group shared this website with
    us so I came to look it over. I’m definitely enjoying the information.
    I’m bookmarking and will be tweeting this to my followers!
    Great blog and outstanding style and design.

    Also visit my website … Rezepte-Nico-Bartes

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *