depression.

I don't get how it happens. Why do we get depression? I always knew my mom had it, and I always thought it was something that could be fixed by doing something that made you feel better.
I never ever thought it was this uncontrollable sadness, over anything! All the stuff you worry most about, just surrounds your thinking in an instant, you feel like nothing is worth it, nothing is going to get better, and that life isn't worth living.
     Like today, I was talking with this older couple at work about her brother who just died, he had congestive heart failure and got really sick and died at 76. My heart just dropped. My grandpa is 86 and has that, and does so much, one day it's just going to kill him. So as I got home, it just hit me how much losing grandma and grandpa is going to hurt. I know they are in so much pain, that knowing they wouldn't feel that anymore would make their souls happy, but losing the people who raised me, loved me, and cared about me more than my own parents, is tragic. It's horrible. No one understands because when you lose your grandparents, it's something that happens. Losing my grandparents, is like losing my parents. I don't have many people there, not many who put your life in front of their own, not many who would drop everything and come help you in an instant. I feel so lost, and broken inside. I need them so much, I need them like I need a mom and dad. I have so many flashbacks of growing up at grandma and grandpa's. The happiness, the love, the freedom, the care and comfort. Will I ever feel that again? Can I ever provide that for my own daughter? Grandma and Grandpa's is like my safe place, when I'm hurt, tired, in pain, or need someone to talk to, that's where I go. It's like a reset button to my soul, a place I can sit, refresh my heart, and go on with life. Where do I go when their not there? When will I ever feel loved like they loved me?


Depression sucks. It's horrible, and it makes you feel like nothing is good, when everything may very well be okay. My life is good. I love my life, I love the possibility of my future, and what it all holds.

But.

when depression clouds my brain.... nothing is ever good enough.

Right now.

Kaylin is all toddler right now.

She brings in her potty cup from her potty chair and not even knowing if it has anything in it she sets it on my bed, and as I finally notice what it is after staring at it out of the corner of my eye. I scream, and she laughs.I tell her to take it back in the bathroom, and she yells "no no no no!" and in the midst of my yelling a freaking out, I realize that all of this..is getting me nowhere. I automatically grab the potty cup and put it back in place in the bathroom...walk over and sit on my bed. "Kaylin...look at me" she is squirming and yelling "NO!" I pick up her hands and say " That's fine, I will wait right here until you look at me" and she tossing and turning with her head in the sheets. I finally see her peak up at me, her beautiful eyes pleading. "Kaylin, you can not take your potty cup out here, it's full of germs and we could get sick. All you need to do is dump it in the potty and put it back." of course she's asking "Why mommy..why..why why why?" and all I can think to say is.."Because I said so, and what mommy says..goes".

My thing is here, that before I lose it...I want to take more times to just take a breath, and talk to her. Of course she didn't know not to take it and set it on our bed, of course she didn't know. When I was young I would have been spanked for that. All I can say is...I need to remember, that yelling gets us absolutly nowhere. I know that's what i had to grow up with, but that's not who I have to be.

It seems like lately everything is "why" with her..." Why this, and why that". Most of the time she asks, it's hard because I don't really know how to explain the answer. Sometimes I make things up, sometimes I just tell her the truth, knowing she won't understand it. I know being a mom, doesn't mean you have to get everything right. All I can say is I'm learning, I'm trying to be all I can be for her, because she deserves it. I once had class with someone who said that we parent like our parents.

I don't believe that. I even took offense to it when she said it. If you try very hard, catch yourself, and learn about the things they did, and what you feel they didn't do the right way, then you can make yourself into who you need to be for your kids. I am my own...and I won't get everything right, and yes I may make some of the same choices as they did, but it doesn't make me like them. For I will show love with everything I do, and that's something that they couldn't do for me.

Every day I learn something new, and I am so blessed to have what I have.  

Dreamer.

She's a dreamer, a believer, a heart pulled through wreckage receiver.
She holds back her pain, she holds back her voice.
She chooses her path, not always making the right choice.
Torn down, built up, she's stronger than she thinks.
new mind, new soul, a change as fast as she blinks.
She's bold, she's brave, she has the courage, she has the time.
There's excuses, there's hope, there's a whole new mountain to climb.
There's faith she doesn't see, there's love she's never known.
Her soul belongs to him, her mind to her own.
She has the heart of a drifter, but the pace of a stone,
she's looking for a place that she can call  her home.
She has so much to live for, but so much she does not see.
Though perfection surrounds her mind, a perfection she'll never be.
A wars been waged, a sea of hurt,
her trust's been broken and kicked in the dirt.
She's a lover, she's a fighter, she's a dreamer on her own,
She's tries, with goodbyes, her faith is set in stone.
Don't dismiss her, cause you'll miss her,
she running out of time.
She's ready, and she's willing,
her honesty will shine.
So let her dream, and let her go,
let her find a piece of her own.
Let her love and let her try,
let her live and let her die.
She's ready for a new path, a new direction, a new life.
So let it be, you will see
she'll be ready to be your wife.  

To run or to hide

I feel the familiarity of all this. In highschool I couldn't stand Darrin, he was trying to be a father figure, but there was no love in his words. I don't know what is worse, the fact she has never cared about her kids feelings and only her own, or having the tension in the house just because he's here. I feel the heaviness of his hatred, just like I can feel people's feelings. He has no love for any of us, I'm sure if mom didn't have any kids, he would have married her in a heart beat. I'm ready to get out of here, she is nothing like me, minus all of the migranes,depression, and back pain, we couldn't be any more different. I love her, because she is my mother, but I don't love her for being my mom. It hurts me so much for her to say that she helped me learn to read, or that she tucked me in at night, or provided for me, or even loved me or showed me love. If she did, I remember none of it. I remember crawling into bed with grandma and grandpa, I remember them making sure my hair was cut, my clothes fit and were clean, i had a clean bed to lay in, they held me when I didn't make the professional dance class, and celebrated when we were able to go to north carolina with the kids who kept their grades up. They helped me explore and learn, and love. They made sure I got to enjoy extracurricular activities, have friends over, and they celebrated every birthday with my favorite dinner and a cake. It was them I remember, they loved me to make sure I was happy. Their house was always my safe haven, never at my moms. I remember one time i stayed with mom because of dad's orders and i ended up going to school with cat pee on my sweatshirt that I had never noticed. I remember looking forward to lunch time because their was nothing in the fridge for breakfast. I remember begging my dad to let me go on a trip that everyone was going on, but he had refused both times. I remember the fights and abuse that went on in our home, and how my eyes begged for social services to see that the "clean" house she was looking at was because I had stayed home from school all day to clean it and it was a last minute fight to make sure it was just right for her. Truth is..I wanted her to see how messed up everything was...but she never did. I wanted to show her the bruses on my legs from my dad, I wanted her to hear my stomach growling because of the lack of food in it. I wanted her to see how mom wasn't like this normally, and she was usually up stairs in her bedroom sleeping. She never did though... and its been so hard to forgive her for all of that. Now she's a lot better, but the bruises on my heart will always remain. My heart is forever broken from trying to grow up without parents to look up too. I just have to move out, and make sure I don't make the same mistakes with my children. I have to get passed the hurt, so I can have my own happiness. I have to get out of her house.