Crybaby

Gawd, I'm a fucking crybaby now. Another reason I hate to cry...I can't ever get the tears to stop once they start. Every little thing triggers a crying spell. What made today's episode worse was that it happened while the kiddie was here so I had to lock myself in the bathroom. This of course just made me cry more because it brought back a flood of difficult memories as it was the same bathroom I used to lock myself in starting at age 13 and cry for hours from the excrutiating emotional pain. A pain that has never and won't ever subside.

How could my family not have noticed something was terribly wrong with me back then? Was I that invisible to them that they didn't notice and/or didn't care why I was spending so much time in there? Could they not hear or did they just refuse to hear my crying? Hell, I always notice when my daughter's been in the bathroom a little longer than usual and immediately knock to make sure she's ok. That just seems like the right thing to do.

I'd give anything to have someone just hold me and tell me that they truly understand what I've been through, what I'm still going through. Or to have my parents tell me just once that they're sorry and that they do love me & have them really mean it. Or have just one person honestly tell me they truly want to help and prove it to me by not running away the moment I become difficult or by refusing to be pushed away. I know none of those will ever happen though. I know they are unrealistic expectations of others. Suppose none of that matters now. I have my plan in place, though at the rate I'm failing emotionally, it may be sooner than Feb 15th.

I spent some time today at the library researching suicide. Mostly trying to get info together for the benefit of my daughter. Info I'll leave behind for her father, or whoever ends up taking care of her. Ways for them to explain my death to her. Places to take her for counseling and support groups. Different emotions she'll probably go through and how to handle them. It's so damn hard. I don't want to leave her behind, but I know I don't have it in me to take her with me. Guess this is just my way of still trying to be a good mom even after I'm gone. Though a good mom would never leave her child like this. I was bound to fail her, I fail at everything.

Think that is the hardest thing to deal with in all this, failing her. Being the one to cause her the most pain when I've always tried my hardest to protect her from hurting.