There should be no shame in the truth.

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I look at my life…

I see my beautiful children.
I see my awesome husband.
I see the amazing family we have,
And the life we’ve built together.

A life we’ve built up our hopes for…

All I can think about is that I have set myself up for so much heartache.

I mean, it could go many ways…. life might end up storybook, Disney Princess perfectly. I may end this life totally happy, healthy, and with no regrets… but if anything goes wrong… which is inevitable because Disney LIED πŸ˜‚ and life isn’t perfect in any way and that’s what makes it life …. ipso facto, I have set myself up for some pretty intense destruction of heart.

There’s really no way around it, but I think about 1000 things every day that could ruin our lives… and every day I find new things to obsess about and lose sleep over. I have a hard time controlling it. Well, I could take opioids. But that’s not an option for me.

My 4 beautiful children were all born as perfect as they could be… my school age child excels in every subject and tests off the charts, my three littles are so far ahead of milestones I don’t even pay attention to the “your baby this week” emails anymore… I have not been through what so many mothers have been through who have kids with disabilities, or have been diagnosed with this, that, or the other. The impossible hurdles… the sleepless, sometimes hopeless nights…. the loss of a child……… But I fear it, and have ridiculous violent flashes and end up crying about what *could* happen. I’ve seen and read what so many others have gone through, it makes it hard to *just* appreciate and cherish the fact that my children have been, thus far…. completely happy and healthy… I feel overwhelmed with guilt because parenthood has been so easy for me, compared to how hard it has been for others; it’s hard to let myself be present. I can’t stop scrutinizing every little thing I do that affects what they do, and end up losing my temper feeling like I’ve already ruined any shred of hope my kids have at normalcy. I’m constantly looking for something to go wrong… always thinking I, along with my children, couldn’t possibly deserve a life so… good, calm, easy… where’s my drinking problem? Where are the hardships? Learning disabilities? Health problems?!? Car accidents?!? WHERE IS ALL THE FUCKED UP STUFF THAT’S SUPPOSED TO BE HAPPENING?! And I know I’m screwing them up just thinking it. I know I will regret this, wasting time just thinking about it eats me up inside. My older self hates me. Selfish, stupid girl, it’s right there, right in front of you, just chill out. Simmer…

My husband is not perfect. But he is so amazing. He is my best friend. I can actually say that. We have had our trials, but we’ve always loved each other so much… he’s my person. He is the only man I’ve ever been in love with. I find it hard to believe that I found someone who not only can deal with my crap, but…. likes me?!? πŸ˜‚ He doesn’t drink, he’s never laid a hand on me or the kids, and I can’t imagine an instance in which he would. He is kind, and patient, and everything I could have wished for in a spouse. I continuously have trouble accepting it… I can’t realistically be this happy, there’s gotta be a secret family in another town… he must be cheating… or gay…. or a RULL good liar…. or he’s gotta start beating me soon, or something… and so, I have this nagging voice that says it will all just fall apart, or something awful will happen… so I rarely allow myself to enjoy being with someone who I genuinely enjoy being with. That doesn’t make for a happy, healthy marriage. 😡 If I lose him…. I don’t know what I’ll do. It sounds like a cheesy clichΓ©… but I would probably not remarry if we divorced or, Gawwwd forbid, he died. I just couldn’t be with anybody else. πŸ’– Nobody else gets it.

So this train better just keep on chugging down the tracks, nevermind my craziness. ***It’s all here.*** All the pieces to the happy, healthy life I’ve always dreamt of. But all my stupid brain can do is frantically search for the defect. Someday, I’ll figure out how to relax, and forget about everything I was raised to believe was normal. I’ll stop expecting it to … implode into the chaos that’s supposed to be my life.

I’ll retrain my brain.


This is what a bad start in life can do to a human being. This is what domestic violence and substance abuse can do to a child who was stuck in the middle of it, who has a hard time claiming they were ‘abused’ because of how conditioned they were to never think that. This is how PTSD can affect an adult, even when they’re in a healthy and loving environment. The damage is there, it’s identifiable, observable. . . It’s sad that people are told on the daily, “just get over it.” Well, personally… I can’t.

I can feel it happening, and there’s just nothing I can do.

Anxiety. Irrational fear. Depression.

This is who I am, the person I have been carved into. I wonder how this will shape the rest of my life in comparison to how it’s been shaped up until now. I wonder who I would have been had things in my childhood been different. I wonder how different things would be for my kids… and how they see me. All I can do is try to control myself, try to be rational, never, ever, shut down or give up… Never walk away. And hope I don’t screw them up… too bad. All I can do is my best. I hope they know, I’m trying so hard.

I did not have it as bad as some, but it’s not a fucking contest. My life has moved on to a much better, happier place, and I’m thankful for that.

…but this is still, very much so, something I’m still going through, and has played a major role in my life and majorly affects my husband’s and my children’s lives. I don’t talk about it a lot… but I’m tired of feeling like I shouldn’t ever talk about it, that people having it worse negates what I’ve been through. That’s just not ok. This isn’t something anybody should be ashamed of. This is something we should be able to help each other with……. through.

Someday, my dirty little secret won’t haunt me.

Someday, it will just be my past.