hopeless

today was rough.  I feel as though I have a hole from the bottom of my heart to the bottom of my soul.  I used to fill it with alcohol, but quit.  then I started filling it with food.  I pray to god every day that he fills it with something.  my therapist thinks that I don't have a hole, I just have a lot of junk that I need to let go of.  I wish I knew how.  I asked her, she asked me why I would hold on to it and I think I do it because I don't know how to be happy. I don't deserve to be happy.  truth be told, I am scared to death to be happy. the person who said "it is better to have loved and lost than to have never loved at all" is an idiot that has no idea what pain feels like. 

we talked about loving myself unconditionally.  I told her skip the unconditional part, what about just loving myself and making good decisions for myself. 

I told her that I had a week off and my husband was talking about moving out, I was going to buy a plane ticket and she could just kill me when I got back.  she said that I am wanting someone to heal my wounds. I thought I just want to feel good, even if it is for just a few days.  she says that I want someone to love me like I should have been loved when I was a child.  I know that, I can chronologically chart my life with broken relationships. 

I am forty and have not a clue how to love myself.  I think I have made huge strides, at least I don't hate myself anymore. 

I spent years feeling black inside. 

I watched a show the other night about crows and exploding frogs.  to illustrate how smart crows are they filled a beaker with water and put in a wax worm, the water level was too low for the crow to get the delicious wax worm, so it started putting random items in the beaker to raise the water level and he finally got the wax worm. 

my insides now feel as though they are filled with random things that I have hoarded.  I have so much baggage that I am exhausted and overwhelmed and most importantly hopeless.  I have to find a way to put down this baggage and realize that it belongs to all of the broken people in my life.  it wasn't my fault that my parents could not give me what I deserved, they were broken. there is no way I could have been perfect enough to make my mother love me.