I wish I knew

I wish I knew

I want a peaceful life, each day since Christmas I grow increasingly more depressed. I am functioning but I am doing it out of muscle memory. I’m in a fog. I don’t like my mother, but I miss her. I miss having “A” mother. Someone older than me to talk to. Someone to get advice from. Someone that understands me, and how I feel. I wanted my book to be that for someone. If you read my book, if you feel alone. Contact me menaburt07@gmail.com, make sure to tell me that you read my blog. I know though that with my Lord and Savior I will get over this hump too. And so can you.

ImageAt night for the past month, I keep having such dreams, nightmares, or alternate realities, I don’t know.  I just know they are causing me pain.  I miss her, or I should say I miss what I thought she was, a mother.  Why?  Why did she choose to stay with a molester? She could have been such a good mother.  She actually was pretty decent before the “monster” came into the picture.  I love her, but I don’t think she is capable of truly loving anyone. As crazy as it is, I miss her.  The holidays make me cry.  I don’t know, if I could ever have her back in my life after her continuous denial of how serious the abuse was, and how much it changed my life for the worse.  Oh now it’s better, because of support and help from medications and counseling.  I don’t want to stand by her casket and wonder why she wanted to disown me. But I will have to, that is, if I would even go. I want to share my life with her, but it’s gone, gone forever, and my sleep will never be the same because she will always haunt my dreams.

Dreams or Nightmares?

The Holidays

Today, I ponder on Christmases long gone.  I will no longer have my mother with me on any of the joyous occasions because she chose the life she leads with my abuser.  I miss the days when it was just me and her, without the monster in the picture.  We used to sing and dance to Elvis Christmas music, and now, I wonder what she is doing, and if she even misses me.  Does she even feel sorry at all for allowing me to continuously be hurt.  I don’t know, but somewhere out there, my mother is there.  My tears will never stop I guess.  I had no father after the age of 18 months, and now I have no Mother.  My grandmother is the only older woman I have to look up to, and I pray she is here for a long time. So, moma, you hurt me, and my heart aches, but I will live on.  I will thrive and someday enjoy my grandchildren.  You have never fully broken me, and you never will. <SCRIPT charset=”utf-8″ type=”text/javascript” src=”http://ws-na.amazon-adsystem.com/widgets/q?ServiceVersion=20070822&MarketPlace=US&ID=V20070822%2FUS%2Fforginotpermi-20%2F8005%2F8f8cb171-9151-402f-86a4-3cad937b5221″&gt; </SCRIPT> <NOSCRIPT><A HREF=”http://ws-na.amazon-adsystem.com/widgets/q?ServiceVersion=20070822&MarketPlace=US&ID=V20070822%2FUS%2Fforginotpermi-20%2F8005%2F8f8cb171-9151-402f-86a4-3cad937b5221&Operation=NoScript”>Amazon.com Widgets</A></NOSCRIPT>