Fucking Mother’s Day is Shit.

Fucking Mother’s Day is Shit.

Fucking Mother’s Day is Shit……

And I hate the whole fucking day.

(To the tune of “Happy Birthday”)

It’s not that Noah or the kids are going to be awful. They are going to show me love and respect and caring. And I am going to spend the day feeling like undeserving dog shit because I “should” be “honoring” my mother.

Emotional flashback for the lose?

Honor thy mother and father. But what if your father is a rapist and your mother is neglectful and cruel?

HONOR THOSE MOTHERFUCKERS BECAUSE GOD DAMN CONFUCIUS SAYS SO.

But what if honoring them will make me end up killing myself?

I know I’m supposed to stop talking about suicide. It upsets Noah. I’m not saying I want to or I should. I am making choices to avoid it. If I were on that god damn merry go round with my mother I think would. I think that I would be absolutely unable to absorb how much she hates me on top of how much I hate me. I have fucking limits, yo.

Instead we had a nice day at the botanical garden and science fair and park. Then my niece came over for her first ever overnight. We had a nice dinner (it was one of those meals where everybody ate slightly different things because they have different preferences) and the kids played and then we read stories. It went well. I am hopeful about tomorrow too.

And hell, I’m ditching Noah pretty early tomorrow to go get body work done and have tea with Jenny. Then she will pick up her daughter after the kids have a day to play together.

The only hiccup is the big kids thinking they can force the baby out of the living room so they can have privacy. Nope, go in your room.

Even that we weren’t mean about, just matter of fact.

I’m reading the forums again. I’m not commenting. I’m not rejoining the groups where I feel so uncomfortable so I can’t say anything. But I’m trying to make myself feel better? Misery loves company? If I read about how other people have it so much worse–they are going through active trauma and I’m just a whiny bitch–maybe I’ll stop crying?

I’ll tell you if it works out.

I took some Ativan tonight because I seriously need some sleep. But it’s 11pm and it hasn’t kicked in. Insomnia is part of depression for some folk.

I want my mother. I hate my mother. I miss my mother. I resent my mother. I love my mother. I feel unworthy of my mother. I feel bad that my existence caused her so much pain. When I think of her I still hear “Mama mama mama mama” in my head and I start rocking without even thinking about why I am doing it or if I want to do it. I have done this since I was 3 years old. Mama. Pleeeeeeeeeeease come get me. Mama. Pleeeeeeeeeeeease love me.

I wrote the book so I can’t rewrite these stories in my head. I can’t give her all the slack I want to give her.

I don’t know if she “really” loved me. I know it doesn’t matter. She neglected me and didn’t teach me that I should be alive.

She failed me.

And I fail her by not trying harder.

Life’s a bitch and then you die.

We all suffer.

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I don’t want to want to hurt myself because my fucking mommy doesn’t love me.

I feel so deeply uncomfortable sometimes when Noah or the kids refer to me by a mother name. Mama. Mom. Mommy. Mummy. Mum. Maman. They’ve fucking tried everything and I think they see me flinch.

Motherhood is the only club where I am welcomed in to be a member where I want to be there. Only I feel so fucking bad about myself.

I want so very badly to not be bad. I held my shit together today. I laughed. I told jokes. I kept my voice calm. I didn’t criticize. I wasn’t nasty.

I want to be good enough to deserve being kept. I’ll just wait until everyone goes to sleep to cry. Maybe that’s why I can’t sleep. If I cry when they are awake I am bad and I don’t deserve to have them. There is not fucking deserve. But I might fuck everything up. I might drive people away from me because I am a fucking monster, a bully, a bitch who does not get to have people want to be around me. Noah isn’t really asleep. He has his hand on my shoulder. He doesn’t know what to say and neither do I. I mean… I can type. But I can’t talk about this. It’s so repetitive. It’s so pathetic. I feel so fucking embarrassed for being this fucking stupid.

STOP CRYING YOU STUPID BITCH. YOU FUCKING SUCK YOU DUMB CUNT. SHUT UP SHUT UP SHUT UP SHUT UP SHUT UP SHUT UP SHUT UP SHUT UP SHUT UP

Why do I always want to put a trailing ‘e’ on the end of words? That’s weird

What the fuck does shut upe mean anyway.

Be nice. Don’t be irritable. Don’t be angry. It’s not ok to be angry. If you do people will send you away. They will avoid you. They will tell you that they are doing so because you are bad for being angry. It doesn’t matter what they do. Just stop it. Stop it. Stop it. Stop it.

But I haven’t cut today. I haven’t done any form of self harm. I sucked it the fuck up and I was nice all day. I gently touched everyone. I gave them what I wish I got. What I can’t allow anyone to give me.

I’m glad Noah fell asleep. When he touches me like that sometimes I feel like I should claw my skin off. I feel so bad. I don’t want him to touch me. Not because of him. Because I am bad and if he touches me badness might get on him and that will be my fault too. I know I’m supposed to trust that he knows what he is doing and he is making a decision (practically daily) to stay with me.

But I know I don’t deserve him. He is far too good for me.

And that’s part of why I get so bitchy. I feel so bad about ruining his life with a stupid whore.

I don’t even put out much anymore. I can’t tell if that is selfish in a good way or a bad way. I just know I feel ashamed. Fucking bait and switch you god damn lying cow.

I have nothing to give. And it would shred me because I cannot be turned on right now. My equipment feels dead. And it isn’t worth bleeding over.

Because I am selfish. Maybe that’s a good thing and maybe it isn’t. I am not capable of evaluating it.

All of life is fucking suffering.

Fucking Mother’s Day is Shit.