Afraid to admit....

...I'm scared that I will never be loved. My life is full but I still find myself thinking about how lonely I am.

Rough day not getting better....

I absolutely hate days like today. I had been on a pretty good streak here lately; things were good at work, the bills are all paid and I am getting the kids ready to go back to school. Everything should still be pretty golden, right? You would think by now that I would realize that it is moments like these when I tend to come crashing down.

It feels like my emotions have been run over by a train. One minute I'm still super confident in myself and the next I wonder why am I even still alive. I know what is causing the problem but I haven't found a way to totally work through it yet.

The plain truth is that I am lonely and I am really scared that no one will ever really love me. I have had people tell me that I need to think about my children and my mom and put my responsibilities ahead of silly feelings like that. That I should be thankful that I have family who loves me and that I have proven that I can take care of myself.

Here's the hang up I have with that. I feel like family has to love you. My children didn't have the option of not loving me; they were born to me and that sort of is part and parcel. I want someone to love me not because they have to or even should but because they can't imagine not loving me. In reality maybe it does stem from not loving myself enough, but I don't even know how to do that. I feel like such a broken mess that I don't know.

What is even sadder than feeling like this? Actually being 35 years old, sitting on my bed and crying because no one is ever going to love me.

I sit here and close my eyes and imagine how I truly envision myself. Not like a mirror image but an actual graphic representation of how I see myself as a person and as a woman. In all honesty, I see myself in the context of a Picasso painting. Nothing flowing seamlessly into the next, no one color melding into a complementary shade. Just ugly (no offense, Pablo), chunky blocks that never seem to match up or go together. Bright color after bright color blinding the eye.

Sometimes I just want to give up completely, even stop living, and other times I just to hide from the rest of the world and pretend that I am okay with it. But nothing is ever going to be okay and I have to face that. Maybe love doesn't exist beyond the love I have for my children and family and the love I know that God has for me. Maybe the concept of being in love with a partner isn't real and I just have to get used to that fact. Just because I see what appears to be people in love, people getting married and living happily doesn't mean that that is what it really is.

I have heard said before that you have to truly love yourself in order to be truly loved by another person. If that is true, I have a lot of work to do and I have to idea where to begin or what to do. Well, this is definitely more than enough of an emotional rant.

Humble beginnings indeed.....

I have been working on my ancestry in my free time for the last 2 or 3 years. I have discovered amazing things like the fact that we are descended from titled, British land owners, a possible link to a Pagan king and a few other interesting characters. From all of the stories and information I have gathered, there is one that means the most to me.

My great-great grandfather Benjamin Franklin Broyles made his living as a shoe and boot maker. I know this seems rather inconsequential but for some reason it really strikes a cord within me. My family history has never been filled with pioneers, adventurers or any daring type of person. My forefathers are mainly farmers, laborers and people who did the everyday jobs. For some reason though my mind pictures a humble man bent over his work bench, tacking the sole of a boot in place or putting his own personal touches on a pair of shoes made for one of children.

I have learned that we are all made up of stories. Some are one-of-a-kind, some sad, some pure luck and some are just your average story. The most important part is not the story itself, but what the person did afterward.

Oh, bless your heart.....

I can literally hear at least one of my father's sisters saying that as I reread my posts from the past year. For those who may not be familiar with the sentiment behind the phrase, allow me to share the quaint Southern tradition. As proper ladies would never outright be rude or make discriminating remarks to someone, they have in turn used a few simple phrases to be kind while sweetly masking their condescension. In my case, after reading my rantings which highlight my plentiful neuroses and hyperactive emotions, I am certain that any one of my Virginia-bred aunts would be sure to look at me and say "Oh well bless your heart". Sounds nice, doesn't it? In reality, it would be their way of saying "Honey, you are completely off your rocker". Which isn't too far from the truth sometimes.

There are certain things about oneself that can only be seen in the harsh light of the printed word.

One, I really am a bit (or a lot) dramatic when it comes expressing my emotions. I contend that this is due mainly to the fact that I grew up being a voracious reader who fell in love with the prose of Jane Austen and Charlotte Bronte.

Two, I seem to vent or complain far more than I feel I should. I have kind of been told this before by trusted friends but I just don't know how to let things go. I guess we'll chalk this up to still being a work in progress.

Three, and this one should really be in all caps and bold, I need to stay out of relationships for a substantial amount of time and quit looking for the so-called "Mr. Right". Yep, the harder I look, the harder I fall and then the harder I fail. This last relationship lasted two years, he's been gone a month and I have already caught myself fantasizing about meeting someone else. Talk about jumping out of the frying pan and into the fire.

Four, I am a good mother. Having kids with different abilities, like my girls, sometimes makes a parent second, third and fourth guess themselves about how they are handling things. I have a bit of a guilt complex that has been building over the last decade so I am very familiar with feeling like I'm failing as a mother. In hindsight however, my girls have the best possible life that I can give them and I try to instill in them everyday that they are wonderfully, perfect young women who can do anything they want to in this world.

Admission...to tissueville.....

I have really got to research movies more thoroughly before I buy one. I recently bought the movie Admission thinking it would be hilarious since it starred Tina Fey and Paul Rudd. The comedy and chemistry between the two is really great but for me the movie overloaded my emotions (in the movie's defense however, that is not a very difficult thing to do for me). I won't spoil the plot line for anyone who may want to see this movie but I will say that the dramatic portion stole my heart. I seemed to teeter between giggles, bated breath and full on tears. In the end, it was truly uplifting and really does make me wanna hug me kids and tell them just how great they are but that would just embarrass them so it really would be a win-win situation. I am not giving this movie a bad review in any way, shape or form. It is a pleasant yet awkward surprise to watch a movie that not only entertains but also causes me to take a second look at how I see myself.

Oh, what a time it has been.....

I'm afraid we left the land of normal so long ago that I have completely forgotten what it looks like. I should probably preface the rest of this post with a very large apology. I have been ill with several different ailments, still raising autistic teenagers on my own, taking care of my blind and disable mother, trying to go to college and work 8 hours a day. One person can only take so much and quite frankly I have taken way more than I should.

I am so sick of people who think that I can deal with my children like one would normal children. GUESS WHAT, MY GIRLS ARE NOT NORMAL!!!!!! We don't treat that like it's a bad thing either, but instead address it as the fact that their brains work differently and they hear and see and feel things in their own way. Yes, right now my 15 year old feels compelled to express her feelings through inappropriate language and yes I am trying to deal with this but you can't expect things to happen overnight. One thing an ASD parent learns relatively quickly is that you can tell you child something 50 times and if their brain isn't in exactly the right mode, they are just not going to get it. If you're lucky maybe the stars are aligned on that 51st try. 

What is making me so frustrated is that I have worked for a long time to create a balance that works for my family and one person seems to not realize how much he is upsetting that balance. The additional stress this is causing is part of what is keeping me sick a lot and I just can't take it any more. It is time to go back to just me and the girls and not worry about adding anyone to our lives for quite some time. I can see now that I have just been fooling myself into thinking that this particular person wanted to be a part of our lives.

Need to make a decision.....

...but I don't know which one to make first. Okay, so maybe that's a bit dramatic. I've already the first and most important decision, which is that my current relationship has run its course and will be ending in the near future. The remaining decisions seem so paltry.

I have several large projects on my board which need to be made priorities. My first priority should be to finish painting the upstairs hallway but now I kinda want to paint the master bedroom and my 15 year old daughter's room. My garage needs a complete overhaul but when I think of doing that, I think of building a shelving system to store all of my totes. Unfortunately, building that shelving unit would make more of a mess of the garage than it already is. Every time I log on to Pinterest I see some new craft or project that seems great but just don't know how to get started.

Seriously, I need to reorganize my linen closet, clean and organize my pantry and fridge. I still haven't tackled the job of putting door knobs on my kitchen cabinets. I had been using the family dry-erase calendar idea but have fallen short on that here lately. And this evening I bought myself a new planner and colored pens to try my hand at. I feel like I have a problem with following through on things.

Whoa, now that I've actually put that down in print I think I just hit upon my actual problem. I can make a ton of great decisions in my head and maybe even start putting them into action but I really do have a problem following through and completing the decision. That's why I am still living with someone who irks the hell out of me and whom I no longer find appealing. Crap, I hate it when I have these epiphanies. Now I actually have to do something about my shortcoming or berate myself and move further into my depression. Deep down I think I know that if I would just act on that most important decision, the rest of the small stuff would probably fall into place because I would be without one of my biggest stresses.