The hard, hardest times, when I am trying not to remember.

Yesterday, I spent most the day reading. I don’t really like loud conversations. I watched a movie later with mom, but it was still hard to hear. Well I went again and signed into AIM a little after 1:00pm today, no-show again. Just in case something changes with my daughter. I won’t know if she is even thinking about me ever. Maybe if she sees me online, it could get her to think of me once in a blue moon. Geez, I don’t like all this pain, most times I blame myself for it. I wonder if I had done this or that, could things have been different. My broken heart says no. What would have changed but, to be there as the verbally abused. I was sick, no one cared. No one cared to help me. No one cares about me from there.  It’s something I can’t forget. It’s with me everyday. After all is said and done I still love my family. I wish I had not gotten sick. It wasn’t up to me, I had no control over bipolar. If I could have don’t they even care that I would have not gotten it. Except it is the same old story, I did the best I could, no empathy, no love, no forgiveness on that end. Why do the sick have to be torn to shreds? Is it just another part of suffering? I know I am not the worst of those sufferers in life, but it is something that you try to ignore and can’t very long. Of all the beatings, verbal abuse, and other abuses, I think silence from your daughter hurts the most. It doesn’t hurt so much from my husband because he went from love to hate just like that. Why did that have to happen after we spent 16 years together? Yet, why did my daughter have to follow him so quickly? I was sick, very sick, without help. I had nowhere to turn and yet I am blamed for it all destroying the family. I know these things, but does that make it any easier, no.  It all just fell apart and I feel to blame. I am the one who has to live a new life without them. My strength is in my words, the light in my heart that shines and brings tears to my eyes. My Lord in Heaven you are there. Take me with you soon.

2 thoughts on “The hard, hardest times, when I am trying not to remember.

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