Yesterday i kneeled down on my bathroom floor and cried out to God to wrap his arms around me and hold me with his love. To make this pain go away.
My lesson is that God is the only one i can count on. I am 43, i have spent my whole life wanting my parents to have my back, make me feel emotionally safe, and be a safe place to land. That isn't going to happen.
The real work is realizing that i can't be thin enough, good enough, pretty enough, successful enough for this to happen.
My mother loved a good narcissist. I went out and found those qualities in men and they still haunt me.
I am thankful that joe is changing shifts soon and i will have the holidays to myself. I won't have to put on my mask and act as if it is all okay. I won't have to be Martha Stewart. I won't have to try and piece together these people who don't respect my feelings for some kind of dysfunctional norman Rockwell painting.
I just have to stop asking why.