I’m thinking about Noah basically all of the time. I hope I will keep up the cooking when he gets here. I keep thinking about how I will change or improve things to be more to his taste. I miss talking to him, I’ve been trying not to bug him as he prepares for his presentation today. (It took me days to write this post.) It’s kind of funny how much I think I bother him given that he has devoted his life to hanging out with me.

I am spending a lot of time thinking about how to balance defensiveness with neediness. Like, I have been trying to stay off of Twitter. So I feel this aching loneliness because I feel self conscious about spamming my friends all day long when they are busy. Talking in the Slack feels more like demanding attention. Twitter feels more like talking to myself where other people can hear. I am not blogging more because my hands and arms burn like fire.

Jenny is inviting me into her life and it’s really wonderful. I am enjoying the contact a lot. But I also feel this keening aching because when am I going to be too much? When am I going to say too much? I am a judgy bitch. I speak my opinion when it isn’t useful, necessary, or kind. Who the fuck cares what I fucking think?

I am enjoying Scotland and I am afraid of Portland. There are so many people there and I want so much from them. The way Jenny is inviting me into her family is pretty rare in my world. I mean, we had it with the Bonus family. Mostly folks keep us at arms length because my whole little crew are intense motherfuckers. I am anxious as fuck about wanting to feel like family with friends when I am not their family. I used to say that Eldest Child really wishes that she had been born into a huge family and I still feel like that. I feel like that. We want to have dozens of people who talk to us.

One summer I taught a writing class at the Hindu temple down the street. I asked the kids to explain about their days. They would say things like, “Oh I have a very normal life. Every day I talk to my grandmother, my grandfather, my aunts, my cousins, my uncles check in a few times a week, I have a bunch of siblings, my parents are so involved, I have a bunch of friends I have…”

Normal.

Oh.

I hate that having Jenny love me like this makes it so much harder that for years I have struggled to have this with a lot of my friends and that didn’t work out. I mean, I feel like a fucking asshole because many of my friends invite me in more than they invite other friends. I am not excluded as much as I feel like I am excluded.

But they are friends, not family.

That doesn’t mean anyone is doing anything wrong and I feel like a total asshole for feeling like this isn’t enough. I have so much more than some other people. I have so much more than I could have ever predicted I would have.

But I miss my mother. I miss my sister. I miss my brother. I miss my niece and nephews. I miss Auntie and my cousins.

And my friends can’t change that feeling no matter how much they love me and I feel really bad about myself for having these feelings. I should just be grateful. I am so selfish.

I don’t want to be so selfish. I want to just feel gratitude that I have anyone at all. I have three kids who are pretty much obsessed with me. I have a husband who thinks the sun rises and sets on my ass. I have intensely devoted friends; I have so much love.

I just got an email this morning from an old friend reminding me that he has known me since I was 19 and he was at my 21st birthday party and he is happy I am out exploring the world.

I am not forgotten. I am not nothing.

But I miss my family. I can’t contact them because they are evil and poison. That’s complicated. My friends can’t change that.

Today the topic of PTSD came up at breakfast. The kids have seen references to stuff in shows and movies and they had questions. I explained some stuff. Then Middle Child asked me if I ever wanted to kill myself. I said that was a complicated topic and we’ll get into it when he is older. Which is “Yes but I’m not telling you about it” and he’s smart enough to know that already. I feel bad even admitting that much but I am not willing to lie.

We’ve been doing a lot of processing their feelings (the big kids). They are having a lot of self doubt and self loathing come up. It’s normal. Development books tell me this isn’t my fault. But I feel like it is my fault. I feel really guilty and ashamed.

My boob hurts. Nursing is so annoying.

I didn’t sleep well or much last night and I feel really sad. My kids are wonderful. Jenny is wonderful. But I’m doing a lot of labor and I’m in a lot of pain and I’m supposed to just suck it up.

My kids are wonderful but they need me to give and give and give.

I miss Noah. I feel guilty for how much I take from him. I don’t feel like I give enough back.

Her Sweetness has had a little bit of puke twice in the past 15 hours. She has been a snot rocket for weeks. I think she is feeling off.

I am feeling off. I am sad. I am tired.

I can’t even take a fucking bath because I don’t have that much time off. I think I am not sleeping partially because that is literally the only time I’m allowed to be alone in a room not giving to other people or working.

It isn’t that I want to be alone. It is that I don’t want to give but I don’t feel entitled to take from anyone and that is so fucking complicated.

I haven’t responded to emails. I am so wiped out. I was feeling much better. I don’t know. I’m having a hard day.

I circle around and around and I always come back to…

I wish I had a mother who loved me. But that ship has passed. Move on, already.