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I am so damn sick of snow, ice and more snow that I wish I lived somewhere that I could see the snow but not have to deal with it...like Arizona, or New Mexico. Once again I have fallen on the ice, this time injuring my wrist, my right knee, hip and my back. Not sore enough was my back--doh--now it is even more painful and the meds aren't working right now. Even my right ankle is throbbing in pain.
I feel like screaming, crying, having a hissy fit, and then just forgetting to come out any longer. If I weren't out, we wouldn't have fallen, and this would all be a moot point. The pain is multiplied times thousands right now, and having a hissy fit just isn't ME...but I'm stuck out here for some reason, and I HATE being out these days. There just isn't anything good that I do. I cause more hurt, more pain, more turmoil than anyone else who comes out. And I'm supposed to be the hostess with the mostest...NOT. They should just come, take me away, and then put me in a locked place where I won't hurt anybody anymore, where I can't do myself or anyone else any pain.
I wish I weren't here. I don't want to hear their stories anymore. Don't want to relive any of their pain, don't want to know of the horrors of abuse anymore. Sure, I didn't know any of this until about 15 years ago, but then I didn't know anything at all. Didn't know that I wasn't always "myself". Didn't know how much I hurt others, said things that I didn't remember, or act in ways that were contrary to what "I" perceived myself to be. Now the voices won't be silenced, the pain won't go away, and I feel like there is a permanent revolving door that allows everyone to be out whenever they want to be. I never know what will happen next, who will get the wrath of LEAH, who will be trying to comfort abbi or one of the littles, or who will think we are the biggest pain producer of all time. The phrase, "frankly, my dear, I don't give a damn", comes to mind right now. I'm tired, and hurting, and am wondering how much longer I can actually go through the pain and torment and anguish without going crazy. Because I feel like I AM going crazy. Like all of this is surreal, that people who tell me things about what I've done, or said, or acted like are just trying to get a rise out of me, make me angry enough to shut them out of my life. That I am just too damaged to be of any good to anyone. Well, maybe they are right. Maybe I AM too damaged, too awful, to be of any good anymore.
Sorry...that is just how I'm feeling right now. Maybe it would have been better had I never been born at all. What possible good can come out of all this pain?? When will it end? When in enough, enough?
Yahna, the main Jewel
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True love exists when we lose ourselves to invest in the care of others.
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