fuck. this. shit.

I have never, EVER hated my life. I've never hated myself, nor have I ever wanted to be anyone but me. I have said a million times how much I love being me. I have never hated someone. I have disliked people. I have not been fond of people. I have never HATED another human. I have never been resentful. I've never wanted what other people had. I have had so many reasons over the years to have done all these things. I was beaten on almost a daily basis. I've spent my entire life not ever being able to be enough of anything for anyone. I've been from and created broken homes. I haven't lived with my parents since I was 15. I had to grow up fast, eat a lot of shit to keep from being one of those kids on the street who never finished school... and that's just he tip of the iceberg. Yet, I still never hated anyone, including myself. I always had pretty good self-esteem despite the constant ridicule peppered with physical and verbal abuse.  Over the course of the last year and a half, I have had a whole lot of firsts. Not one of them has been good. I'm angry. I hate people. Often, I hate myself. I want to be almost anyone else but me. I don't sleep. When I eat I throw it up. When I wake up in the morning, I don't greet the day anymore. I shudder at the thought of having to slog thru the day until I can snuggle with my kids. I don't feel like I belong anywhere. I want to go home, but I don't know where home is. Where I live isn't even home. It's simply the place I go in between work. I feel like an annoying extra in every situation.

With every turn, I'm trapped into having to the choose the lesser of two evils. and then I am berated from every direction for making bad choices. When I only have bad shit to choose from, how can I make good choices?  I'm not allowed to fully enjoy anything I've worked my ass off for. And I have been a fucking worker bee since I was 15 years old and my friend's mom altered my birth certificate to say I was old enough to work. Most of the time I have carried two or more jobs and school.  I currently have a job that I hate. I work for a fantastic company, but the job itself sucks harder than a hollywood hooker. They make more money than I do as well.

I have two gorgeous kids- Hands down the most wonderful things in my life-and I have to worry everyday about shit I should never have to worry about. I have to fight everyday to make sure they don't see how the situations in my life make me feel. I make sure they only see smiles and how happy they make me. I make sure they know how much I love them and how important they are... because I know how it feels to not be loved and how it feels to see nothing but anger from a parent. I know how it feels to not be important. I never, ever want them to have the things I have to struggle with. I don't want them to know how many things I have to do that I don't want to. I want them to look at Mommy and know they have my full unconditional love and support.

I struggle everyday.  I have to slip into masks. I have to fight the tears. I would go through all the bad shit I had to when I was younger rather then deal with how I feel now. That's pretty fucking bad.