Day after day I sit here and know that I’m meaningless. I’ve isolated myself to the point of not even existing. My heart beats and air moves through my lungs, but , nothing more. Feeling anything seems impossible. I’m not mad, sad, or anything.
If this is acceptance, I’m there. Zero hopes or dreams. This is my lot in life. I’m responsible for all of it. I Own it. If only I hadn’t….. everything.
I try not to count days, count on people, or count my losses. I try not to think and it’s becoming easier. I’m slowly fading away. My family won’t notice. Family. Yeah. Thick or think, that’s the idea. Right? I’m disposable. That’s a fact. I’ve been replaced easily and that finally gives me some comfort that they will do so when I’m gone.
Post a picture of my dog. She’s “fine”. It’s so much easier to think someone is okay than to climb into the mud and pull them out. It’s no ones responsibility but my own.
I’ve lost too much to ever be alright. As Adoptees put it , ” She’s too damaged “. They are really right. You can’t change time.
The future holds nothing but a calendar, a very empty one. When you truly believe you’re worthless, you understand why people forget you. It’s logical. No offense taken. One can only expect so much of anyone.
I wish everyone a wonderful life. They deserve it. Fait has other plans for me. I do have a legacy. I had 3 wonderful children that are amazing adults and their achievements and success are part of me, even if they wish it not so.
When I’m gone , they will have beautiful long healthy happy lives. What more could a mother want? Remember my name. I existed once.
No worries. Off to trauma therapy.