Still coping

CaptureI still want to cry when I see the pictures of myself in the hospital and think about having her alone, being in the hospital alone. No one visiting. I just…I just need to be ok with all of this. It’s not about strength; it’s not about doing the right thing;it’s about trying to be happy with my life.  It’s about finding or being grateful for the things I’ve done for myself. It’s so hard when I have a baby that is very needy. Sometimes, I just want to leave her in the room to cry. I hate babies. I can’t wait until she’s four.

Finally, she’s asleep.

I hate when people ask me if I have support. All the times she and I have gone to the doctor’s or hospital that stupid question comes up I think, “Do I look like I have support?! I’m here alone, idiot!” Why even ask the stupid question? It’s not like anyone’s going to do anything about it.

My daughter has GERD.  It could be worse, much worse, but it’s difficult doing it by myself.

He wants to come around and babysit a couple of days out of the week, but I don’t even want to see him sometimes. I let him come over because I need a break or I’ll snap. I don’t know if it’s worth it.

I was over his place this weekend. I went upstairs to shower the next morning and saw a picture of him and the new girl on his floor. She’s stunning. Even more so than the last. perfect symmetry. So from yesterday, until today, I’ve had to keep telling myself, “I know I’m not beautiful and it’s ok.  Beauty does not make someone faithful. Lack of beauty does not make someone else cruel.  My life is the way it should be. The way I always knew it would be. Just accept it.”

So I accept it and I let him do what he wants. Then go home and bury it, not think of it. Ignore it.  I try to bury the memory of him putting a bag over my head while 5 months pregnant and asking me to kill myself. I bury him getting another woman pregnant after leaving me and telling me he wants to have a family, a life with her and their kids.  I bury the panic attacks I have when these emotions peek through after months of nothing and not thinking about my past.

You can’t change someone and it doesn’t matter if they treat someone else better. It doesn’t matter if they would never kiss your stomach and talk to your child. It doesn’t matter that they will never tell you they love you or pretend to be faithful or lie to you. It doesn’t change who they are. And it doesn’t change that I will always be lonely with only my children and demons to keep me company.

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