Wednesday, May 8, 2013

"Happy" Birthday?

     So, today I turn 32. Where the hell does the time go? I really don't feel 32. I mean, physically I feel like I've been through the wringer, but mentally I still feel 15. I don't act like it, but I feel it, ya know? Is that weird? Please tell me I'm not the only one!
     
     When I came into this world so many years ago, they didn't expect me to make it. My mom wasn't doing well either, tho she recovered quite a bit sooner than I did. I was premature and (obviously) VERY tiny. I remained in the hospital, fighting, for a while and after hanging on and pulling through, was deemed a "miracle baby."
     
     Sometimes it seems like that was to prepare me for a life of having to fight for everything. To fight to be happy. To fight to fit in, and then to fight to NOT fit in, choosing rather, to go against the "norm." To fight to keep on living after I lost my dad. To fight to hold a marriage together when things were so rough and all I wanted was to say "screw this, I'm out." It seems that nothing comes easy, and I guess that is good. It makes me appreciate the things I do have that much more because I worked my ass off for them.
    
     This is proving to be a rough birthday for me. I'm not entirely sure why, whether it is the fact that I am another year over 30, or I'm not quite satisfied with where I am in life right now, or that I'm just missing my dad extra today. Whatever it is, it sucks. I have spent the majority of the morning so far crying. Not just crying, but sobbing. It feels like I am in mourning all over again and that sucks. I know the grief process is a cycle, but is it supposed to be a never ending cycle?
    
     I find myself crying that my dad isn't here to enjoy a homemade cake. He passed before my baking skills got so much better. I know he would love my baking. And my cooking. I just want him to be proud of something I have done with my own two hands. I cry because he isn't here for my kiddies. He was so very close with my son, M. And M really needs a strong male figure in his life such as my dad would've been for him. He got to meet my sweet little L, but not for nearly long enough. And he never met my sweet little baby J. Two of my children will not remember the best man that I've ever known, except through the stories I tell of him. That breaks my heart to pieces. I cry because sometimes I just need a hug. And to see him smile and wink at me. And to hear him tell me that he loves me.  I cry over my coffee right now, because I know that chances are if he was still here, right now at this very moment, he and I would be sitting at the table, chatting over a cuppa joe. And he would know what to tell me to do. He always knew what I needed to hear. He didn't give a shit what I wanted to hear, always just what I needed. I swear that man knew everything. And I could sure use some of that wisdom right now.
     
     I just feel like something is missing. I don't know what it is, just that it feels like there is something more that I should be doing. I feel like I am not good enough, never ever good enough. That no amount of cooking, cleaning and loving will ever be enough to make everyone else happy. And I love to make people happy. The problem with that tho, is that I focus on making everyone else happy and forget about myself. And then I feel myself start to further fall away from... well, from me. I can't hold everything and everyone together while I myself am unraveling. 
    
     I guess I just need to take it slow today. Focus on one breath at a time. Try and push the negative to the back and focus on the positive and the memories..

Happy Birthday to me.
10:09 AM / by / 0 Comments

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