Special Kind of Failure

I am finally figuring out that I must be some special kind of failure. Seriously. Now I do not mean special as in 'special = good or better' but special as in I am particularly stupid for not just moving past it all. From my childhood to my adulthood, I am stupid for not being able to just put on my big girl panties and suck it up and move on with my life. But it wasn't just my daughter being hurt. It was everthing leading up to it and then after she was hurt, the accusation of using drugs which was totally unfounded and I was accused of that by child protection services right in front of my daughter; it was my sister telling me that she was going to have me committed. It has been every decision since then that has turned to shit right in front of my eyes. It is my daughter telling me, after I waited for a few weeks after she unfriended me on facebook:
     "Maybe there is a reason we aren't friends anymore. We aren't supposed to be friends. You're supposed to be my mom, but you are not. Instead you are a self centered, vindictive person. You are not what a mom should be. And I am tired of waiting for you to get your head out of your ass. I have wasted 20 years hoping you would show me REAL love, but I don't think you know what that is. So I'm done. By the way, I know why you sent that card in may; you were trying to hint that it was almost mothers day. YOU wanted the attention instead of showing your child the time of day. Oh, and P.S. Thanks for the happy fucking birthday."

So now I mix fresh blood with the old and new tears. A blending of what I am reduced to. Pain. That is all that I am. Every day. Every moment. Sometimes I am so fucking good at putting on my smiling face facade to the world. Other times I just can't hide it and I am made to feel guilty for having feelings other than gratefulness.

Ah fuck it. no one gives two shits. no one cares. no one should care. i should just put on my big girl panties, suck it up, and not be a stupid little shit anymore

Like A Knife To The Heart

It is like a knife to the heart whenever I see on facebook that my daughters stepmother has posted something to one of my childrens pages. It is always all love and happiness and I admit to a certain level of jealousy that she is able to always be so happy and upbeat while I sit and suffer with depression, anxiety and panic attacks.

I know I should be able to put the past behind me and just get over it already. I should not let the past have such a tight hold on my present. But I don't know how to break the cycle. I can't help when I get panic attacks, sometimes just out of the blue with no rhyme or reason. I do have ways of trying to keep to keep my thoughts from cycling. Normally I not only have a certain movie playing on the t.v. on repeat (over and over all day and all night long) but I also use my ear phones for having a specific music cd play as well. These two things together sometimes, while I am awake, keep my thoughts from looping over and over and over again with all the things I have done wrong, they let me have some other thoughts now and then or at least keep me from being trapped in my past. Not that they always work, but anything that helps is a plus.

Then comes the guilt. If I smile at something I feel guilty. After all, why should I be even marginally happy if I have not made right the mistakes from my past - the mistakes that no matter how much time is at my disposal, nothing will ever make right again. I can't take back my children being placed for adoption because I was scared that I would not be able to be any kind of mother, let alone a good one. I cannot take back the fact that my daughter was abused even though that was my greatest fear and what kept me from fighting to be in her life (better no mom than a mom that hurts her children, right?). Sure, that has huge webs that trace back to my own childhood, but I didn't want even a HINT that I could be like my own mother and my fear was so great that I would or could be that instead of proving that they cycle ended with me, I instead decided to take myself out of the equation (minus the permanence of suicide).

So here I sit. A wasted, useless, pathetic piece of humanity, living off the scraps of those around her, hoping against hope that someday soon the nightmares and memories will leave me be enough that maybe, JUST MAYBE! there may be something worth salvaging of my life. And then I look around myself and realize that that ship sailed too many years ago. The only thing I have to look forward to now is either October 14th, the two year anniversary of my friends death - or November 15th, the two year anniversary of my Cini-Mini's death. I know that this November 15th will be the day. I will celebrate Samhain on October 31st, remembering my family members, friends and of course my Cini-Mini and then two weeks later will be the day. The anniversary of her death that could have been prevented. I have had to wait two years instead of just one because of all the things going on in my sisters life.

Between moving, settling, this, that, and the other, there has always been something that has stood in my way in these last two years. No more. I have given too much of my time and too much of my thoughts to others - smiling and being supportive when I didn't know what the fuck I should be doing! It is my time. It is my turn. My Cini-Mini and I will be reunited again, at the rainbow bridge.

Will I be leaving things undone? Yes. I will regret that my daughter Mariah's last words to me will be that I am ungrateful and spiteful and I never got my head out of my ass. I hope she never has to live what I have. I hope she never responds to trauma like I did and become a victim of my own thoughts and mind. I wish I could hug her and tell her that through it all, all I feel for her is love and have her believe it and know it in her heart. I hate that I will never have the chance to see my daughter Caitlin. Hug her again. Touch her skin. Know that the love I felt for her the day she was born, hell BEFORE SHE WAS BORN! still holds my heart. I hate that I won't be able to hug Dax again and tell him what a strong young man he is and what a strong man he is destined to become. I hate that even if I were to live that I could not hug my children without feeling like a total and complete failure. I couldn't hug them at all as I don't touch other people. At all. Ever.

What do I hope for though? That the cycle ends with me. That when I am gone there is no legacy of not being able to touch others. No legacy of nightmares. No legacy of memories that do nothing but haunt your every moment awake and sleeping.

May it end with my. November 15th. This is my dream.

That Didn't Take Long

Today isn't over yet, only spent about 15 minutes in the presence of my sister, it was enough. I got some cigarettes from a neighbor and left one out with a note for my sister when I went to the neighbors house to babysit. The note said "XXXXXXX gave me a few cigarettes so here is one to replace the one I took out of your pack this morning. Sorry!". I had every intention of sharing the few I did get, and was going to tell her that when I came back to the house around noon but I figured she and my niece would be okay with the few they had till then as they always get up way after me, usually just before noon. When I saw her I told her that I was sorry about taking a cig from her and told her I had hoped I would get one from the neighbor to replace it but I didn't have any this morning and was about to tell her about the extra cigs but she commented back "Well neither did we!" I immediately told her that when I took that one cigarette there were still a few in her pack, because I was thinking that something happened to them! Like I must have done something to them but couldn't remember! She comes back with "There were, but now they are gone! If I hadn't gone out and bought some we (meaning her and my niece) would have none! As it is we only have one pack to last us till Friday!" ***I do want to say that while I am not that smart, I am also not that stupid and yes, I got the message and was put in my place = if there were only three cigarettes left on the planet and my sister had them, she and my niece would each get their own and would split the last and I would get none*** Message received.

A few minutes later she says "XXXX XXXX is hiring right now for part time nights and weekends." In other words 'get a job' and I understand why she feels that way. She goes on to say she knows I don't like babysitting and that ever since I started baby sitting I have been bitchy and it is effecting the house. I gave her some excuses but the truth is that it is not the babysitting. It is me. I am just too raw right now, everything to close to the surface, on the brink of yet another breakdown and what I realized by her saying that is that even my 'everything is fine, I am fine' face is no longer working which I thought I still had more time. I didn't realize I was so close to the edge.

I will write more in a while. Right now I just need a break.

Reached My Limit

I was never sure what would happen on the day that I reached my limit, but now I know. A simple moment in the scheme of things. Something that has happened in the past and I knew would happen again, but this time it is different. I know I am a loser and not worthy of anything. I don't need to be reminded. The reminders are just salt in an already irritated wound but if that is what you need to do to feel better about yourself, go for it. I understand. I know I am the lowest form of human but if you need to push those barbs deeper because you like doing that, so be it.

I try to stay in the background. I try to make the things that I can better. I cook. I clean. I don't ask for things. I don't demand things. I don't get angry if I run out of something that I need. I try to be supportive of her thoughts and her ideas. All because I know if it wasn't for this family member I wouldn't have a roof over my head, food to eat, shampoo, toilet paper, tampons. . . you get the idea.

But today it happened and it was just the final thing. I made my niece and my sister pancakes for dinner (bacon as well for my niece, my sister doesn't eat bacon). Now I have made pancakes for my sister before and she has eaten them. I always put butter on them and she always adds extra butter. She has never complained before. When I told her there were pancakes for her she says 'I don't like pancakes. I don't.' Wow! News to me. She has never told me that before. I just said okay, because what can I say to that? So my niece being a smart alec says 'WHAT!?!?' Then turns to me and says 'we should kick her out!'. Oh shit! Trigger central for me because I know exactly where this is going and it always cuts me like a knife. Sure enough, my sister says 'yeah, I'll leave but I don't know where you guys will get the money to pay the bills, good luck with that'. And this is said in a way that lets me know she has apparently spent the entire day pissed. I guess I should have actually shut down my making grape jelly this morning when she made the comment about how she wanted to cook today, but obviously couldn't because I was using the kitchen early in the morning when she is normally not even awake yet.

* * * * * *

It has now been four hours since I first published this post and I went out to the living room to put on my 'happy and normal' face and pretend like everything is fine and I was never bothered. My sister is also back to acting like nothing ever happened except for that look in her eye and they way she said a few words. I went out there after looking up some information on getting a home loan for people in her credit condition through the state guarantee program that is available for those who qualify and it looks like she would. My small version of an olive branch. BTW: when I send out an 'olive branch' it always means 'please don't hurt me anymore, I hurt myself mentally and physically more than you ever could so I don't need your help'. I guess I now just have to wait to see what the week brings.

I Miss Them

I miss my Cini-Mini, but that goes without saying even after these twenty one months that she has been gone. I miss my friend Amy who passed away from diabetes complications just one month and one day before my Cini-Mini. I miss my Mariah. While I always tried to stay at the fringes of her life lest my mental illness effect her I can admit now that it was too late. As soon as I had my first breakdown I should have just sent her back to her dads and not had her have to live the crap my life became. No child deserves to have to ride the tides of mental illness with a parent or loved one. It effects them more having to see and experience it than it does any feelings of abandonment they may feel from being sent back to a stable parent. I am regretful that I was not able to be a 'real' person who could have gone to see my oldest daughter get married. Instead I hid in my house like every other day.

Everything is just very sharp and at the surface today.

A New Shift

Yesterday my sisters daughter left to go back to her dads for three weeks. So while it is nice that she is gone (yes I love her but I need the break) she will be coming back. During the time she had been here my sisters oldest son had also come out for four days and it was a great delight to see him after all these years. My problem with having had her daughter here and her son is that it makes me miss my daughter so much more.

I miss my daughter all the way to the core of my being but there is nothing I can do about it. When I reached out to her she saw it as me trying to manipulate her. I sent her a hand written letter (instead of just sending a message on facebook) because I wanted to send a bit of human connection. A bot can send a computer message. I wanted to actually feel pen to paper and put my words there knowing she would be able to see the loops and dotted i's and crossed t's. Instead she said that I was trying to remind her that mothers day was coming up and I expected something from her. That killed me. She called me self centered and vindictive. That killed me. I didn't keep a copy of the letter I sent her, I was just trying to make sure she understood that even though I don't keep in contact as much as I should because of my issues, I don't want her to ever forget that I do love her.

Why do I not keep in touch with her like 'a mother should'? Guilt. I feel buried in guilt about what happened. It IS all my fault and I should be punished. Fear. I love her so much and still what happened did while she was living with me. I have learned that I bring destruction and pain to the people around me without trying, no matter how much I try to keep it from happening. So if I keep just to the bare fringes then I have less chance of my love for her causing more pain. I would rather her be disappointed in me than me causing more pain to visit her. I know that my lack of communication hurts her, but she does have people in her life that won't let her get hurt the way I did. So she is better off without me.

Visitor

My sisters daughter is here visiting for a few weeks. My routine is now different, my surroundings are now different, my immediate universe is now different. She got here yesterday and I was hoping to be able to be 'normal' while she was here which is why I originally decided not to drink at all Wednesday and to cut way back. I was going to stay out in the living room and not stay hibernating in my room. Just be normal. Well the not drinking only lasted until midday on Thursday, before she got here. Then I was going to NOT get drunk. Yeah, I was drunk by the time my sister got home from picking her daughter up. I did manage to stay in the living room today, but tonight after my sister got home from work I had to come back here to my room for hibernation. My sister said something that hurt me but I did not and cannot show it, I just have to remember my place.

Remember my place. My mantra. I cannot forget. Remember my place. So now I will just stay out of their way, let them do whatever. I will just clean up after them and not say anything. Cook. Clean. Hide. My version of normal. Remember my place. I didn't drink today. Tomorrow though. . .

Today I ate:
Peanut butter and jelly sandwich
Peanut butter and banana sandwich
Banana
Bowl of ice cream
which all equals a disgusting number of calories that I will have to punish myself for tomorrow even though I did walk for 1.5 hours. It doesn't matter to me how many calories I burn off, it only matters how many go in and stay in.

Missing Them

I miss my Mariah and my Howard as much as I miss my Cini-Mini and my Cini-Mini was not only my world but my universe. Mariah, my daughter, unfriended me on facebook and that was really the only communication I had with her because I tried to stay out of her life. I tried to stay out of her life because I know I am no good. It was while she lived under my roof that bad things happened, the bad man did what he did, and that does make it my fault. I never should have let her go to her friends house. I should have said NO!.

I don't let people touch me anymore. I don't mean 'touch my heart', I mean touch my skin or even my shoulder or arm through my shirt. I go through great lengths to make sure it doesn't happen, and if it does happen I make sure to tell them 'I don't like touch' and then describe how I will hand things to other people carefully to make sure no touch has to happen, or take things from people to make sure touch does not have to happen. Getting change back at the store is never fun because some people are careful to drop the change into your hand and some people will place the change into your hand. If they are going to 'place' the change into my hand I will often let it drop on 'accident'. Touch just freaks me the hell out. No I do not shake hands with people. No I do not have relationships.

If there is one person on this planet though who I would allow to touch me, hug me, hold my hand for even a moment, it would be my Howard.

Numbing the Pain

Why do I try to numb the pain? Because no matter what I try I cannot numb the memories. The flashbacks. The random memories that haunt. The whispered words in my ears. The hallucinations. So I have begun drinking more in the last months than I ever have before in my life. I could try to get back into therapy here in my new location but I am frankly afraid to do so.

Just Another Day

Today is not a good day. Today I am just inundated with thoughts running through my head - a million a minute - and feelings of being the lowest form of human garbage on the planet. I am useless, garbage, taking up space and air that I don't deserve. 

My sister left to go south to watch her daughter graduate high school tomorrow. I am proud of my niece but I wouldn't go even if it weren't three and a half hours away. Just no. Not leaving the house. The shitty thing is that my sister doesn't have a car because she wrecked it last year so she drives my car. I let her only because she doesn't need a car payment and because she pays for things for me like shampoo, toothpaste, tampons. The least I can do is let her use my car. The shit thing about it though is that my car needs work. It has an oil leak that needs to be fixed and it needs breaks because she is not a gentle breaker and goes through breaks. She had the money to put breaks on the car but just didn't do it. She didn't even need to pay for it to be done at a shop! If she bought the break pads the neighbor will put them on for free which is nice and break pads are not that expensive. But no. After all, that money could be better spent on things like her facial hair remover, fast food, candy. So she is going to be gone for two days and I don't have my car. Not that I plan on going anywhere, but it would be nice to have my car. And that is why I need to remember my place.

My wanting to have my car is greedy and stupid. It is putting myself above her and I should never do that. I need to just sit back, stay out of the way, take up as little space as possible, say as little as possible, anticipate her needs and remember my place. I am garbage that doesn't get thrown away. So I need to earn my keep. Cleaning, cooking and staying out of her way. Don't ask for things. Smile when that is what she expects. Try not to rock in my seat too much because that bothers her. I never ask her to pick up after herself. NEVER. I don't ask her to pick up after her dog messes on the floor, I just do it. I don't ask her to not leave her towels in the bathroom after her shower, I just put them in the wash. I don't ask her to put away her toiletry stuff in the bathroom, I just tidy it up for her. I do not ask her to clean the toilet, wipe down the sink, vacuum, run a load of towels, run a load of rugs, get her clothes out of the dryer. I just don't ask. It is not my place. If that means that I can't do my laundry then I wait. 

My mantra:

Remember your place

remember your place

remember your place

and I will sometimes repeat that to myself over and over and over again while I have my earphones in listening to my music because above all, I am not and never will be worthy of anything and I need to remember my place.

In The Beginning

Odd title to this post, I will grant you that, but there is a back story to the beginning of this blog.

Primarily I am starting this blog because for many things in my life I prefer anonymity. I don't want people to know who specifically I am, not just because I crave my privacy but also because there have been a few people in the past that have stalked my other blogs and websites. So many things I wish I could put out in the vastness of the internet (just to have them said, off my mind, a kind of personal log that is not on paper for others to find and KNOW it is me) and getting these things out is so essential to my state of mind right now.

Have you ever lived you life repeating the mantra of 'remember your place, remember your place' which means that you cannot share an opinion, you need to stay out of the way, you cannot ask for things like new toothpaste, soap or razors? Not a good place to be. Believe me.

I have severe anxiety disorder, panic disorder, ptsd, haphephobia, agoraphobia, suicidal ideation. . . yeah, my life is a fun filled place (sarcasm alert for that last bit). Did I mention the eating disorder? EDNOS (Eating Disorder Not Otherwise Specified), Bulimia Nervosa. Add in a few other random things and this is my life and that is what I plan to put into this blog.

So what did I mean by 'In The Beginning'? In a small nutshell now (which will certainly expand as time goes on) I was abused as a child and it effected many parts of my life as an adult. When I became a mother it effected my decisions then as well. I was determined that my children would not know the pain I grew up with, the disfunction, so in an attempt to stop the cycle I inadvertently put them in situations where they encountered their own disfunction but told myself it was better than the disfunction they would probably suffer under my parenting. How wrong yet right I was. My youngest daughter came to live with me when she was 13 and ended up being sexually abused by her friends dad when she was 14. The blame I put on myself caused a mental breakdown I have not been able to recover from and it has been almost 5 years now. Mentally I am still stuck. Flashbacks to my daughter, flashbacks to my own childhood - never a good thing. The second after my daughter told me what happened I was all set to get her to the police station when my sister told me that I could call them and they would come to the house so that is what I did. Within seconds the phone call was made and it only took a few minutes for the police to show up and start taking the report. That was the end of me being the person I thought I was.

I cannot tell you how often I heard people telling me (even my own daughter) that I just needed to 'get over it' already. How I wish I could! But it doesn't work that way.

Since that day 5 years ago (the anniversary just recently passed) I have become a woman I do not recognize.

This is my journey, my daily life, my mental hell.