One of the oldest human needs is having someone to wonder where you are when you don't come home at night. - Margaret Mead

Mother's Day always stirs up emotions for me.  I get emotional over my children.  Even through the fighting between themselves of trying to make mommy happy for the day, I  can see how they all need me.  But on the flip side of the coin, I struggle with my feelings towards my mother.

I remember Mother's day as a child.  Me and my siblings would all pitch in to help with dinner.  Then we would give her gifts that we didn't pick out, but were just handed to us.  As I got older, I do remember having a say in what we gave her.  As an adult. "going in" on a big gift together with my siblings seemed to mean more to me.  Making my mom diner was always something I enjoyed doing for her.

Things have changed.  I look back at my life and wonder where things went so bad.  I try so hard to remember my mother helping me with homework, reading with me, even hugging me.  I don't recall any of this and I keep telling myself that I must wrong.  But no matter how hard I try, it's not there.

Just like I have ached to have a relationship with My Wendy Sue, I have also had the same hunger for a mommy.  I want my mom.  I want her to care enough about me to want to make things better.  I want her to stop wondering what I'm doing and to really really care.  I don't want the conversations that always lead up to why I am so angry.  I want her to understand.  I want her to be patient with me and just love me damn it!  I will never be able to comprehend how she has let things get to this point.  I'm feeling like I don't have a mother who cares for her child.  

This is who I am.

This picture was posted on OAASIS: Oregon Abuse Advocates and Survivors In Service.

It's not who you are that holds you back, it's who you think you're not.

For the past few months I have felt alot of different emotions.  Talk about a roller coaster.  I have kept most of my thoughts and feelings to myself.  For a couple of reasons.  First, I don't want to feel like everyone's worry.  I don't want to be treated like some fragile person. The last thing I want from anyone is worry.  This is all stuff that I've put in my own head.  There is nothing that anyone is doing that makes me feel this way.  I'm being treated the same as usual.  But it's just something I'm paranoid about.  Might sound so silly to you, but I worry about others worrying about me.  Which increases my stress and anxiety.  And then in turn gets me emotionally riled inside. Viscous cycle, this mind of mine!  Second, everything is going well around me.  Life is continually changing.  Change is good. It brings adventure. I don't want to rain on anyone's parade.  I don't want to be the downer in the group.  Once again, this is all me.  I have never felt like anyone has this attitude towards me, but for some reason, it's there.  I just think most days I rather just not talk about it, than to let it turn my whole day upside down.  And everyone else's for that matter.

But, today is the day.  Instead of talking to myself, which I frequently do, I am going to write about it.  I'm hoping that by doing so, I may find some peace with some of these crazy emotions.  Please don't judge me....don't think I'm crazy.....don't try to get me committed somewhere.

Going through recovery has obviously helped me more than I ever thought was possible.  But it has also been way more difficult than I could have ever imagined.  I've said before, sometimes I rather feel nothing, no emotions at all, than to feel some of the things I feel.  But it doesn't work that way, and I am still learning methods of dealing with such emotions.  I have learned that my brain is one messed up organ.  The brain is  the most complex of all organs.  With so many functions and duties, something is bound to go awry.  I think that victims of any kind have obvious issues from the traumatic events. But I am starting to believe that certain events cause your brain to work overtime.  My brain is in overload. It's got too many things going. The more I read, and the more I search for help, the more I am understanding why I feel certain things.

I'll just be blunt.....I feel like I am a fragment of me.  I feel like because of being sexually abused, half of my soul was taken from me.  I feel like I will never be a whole person.  There will always be pieces of me missing.  Can I really help my Wendy Sue.  Do I really know how to? How can I ever get better or become whole when I feel like only half of me exists?  If you drop a glass and it shatters, you gather the pieces and pray to God that no one notices the glue. But, how can you put it back together when a few pieces have come up missing? It will never be a glass again.  Well, maybe.  But not one that will hold water. That's a good comparison.  My missing pieces are making me feel like I am never going to heal.  But do I know how it feels to be whole? And not only that, but can I be of any good for anyone?  Can someone so broken really really make another person happy?  Am I capable of being a lifelong partner?  How can I, Wendy, complete anyone else?

I've asked myself a million times what exactly am I hoping and wanting to get out of my recovery.  My answer is always to just make it go away.  Leave my mind.  But that is never going to happen and I need to figure out a way to get past that! Maybe if I knew what it felt like to be a normal child, I would long for that feeling.  All I know is the adult that has tried so long and hard to cope with what had happened. Some days I feel like the world is caving in.  I want to be strong.  I want to be the survivor that I write about.

My chest is tight.  I'm getting too worked up.  This is my brains way of telling me I'm done for now.  I need to go find my diet coke.