Shattered Glass Life After Abuse

I hurts so much. When I try, when I reach out, when I am needing help, when I try to talk, when I ask, Why Do You Push Me, and laugh? It is not funny to me. It hurts. I know I am not always stable, not always right in the head. It is not by choice. You say I don't handle stress, but you don't do anything to alleviate my stress. You act like you have the answers, like you understand what is happening, like you have adjusted, like you are normal, like you care. You even say at times, "I love you." And that is nice to hear, because I believe. But when I call you, when I talk to you, when I am seeking help or need a change or to get on track or to move one step away from the edge or to make progress or to make life better... You PUSH me.. . you rattle on with jokes and laughter, it's a game, you twist my words and laugh. You make up riddles, jokes and play on words. You wont get serious; you don't take me seriously. Around, and around, and around ...

 Stop! Dangerous.... don't read if you hurt.... don't read if you are raw.... don't read if 'cutting words' tear you apart. This is raw... this is ugly, mean, painful...... but a gut honest moment frozen in time. Did you pick up your clothes? I told you to pick up the clothes? Why aren't they folded? Hang them up. Can you watch the kids? Just 4 hours. It is the least you can do. Everyone has to do their part. You forgot to feed the cat? Do you want him to die? I should have never gotten that cat? If he dies, its your fault. I asked you to water the plants, they're bone dry. I paid good money for those plants, water them! Why can't you do the things we ask? Why are you so slow? What is that look? You expect me to do something for you? Always about you? Push Push Push... to get your way, and then you sit on your butt. Your room is a mess. How can you live like this? After all we do, you even have your own room. Stop eating in the living r...

I am so sleepy. I am so sad - sorrow runs like a rapid crashing into rocks, whips past trees, no life is safe in nature's way. Splintered, shattered, bobbled brain... bouncing, rolling to a thud - STOP. So close, yet so far away. You missed it... You should have... You lost out... You would have... We know what is best. God set it up. We know the mind of God for you. How Tragic! You were offered what you needed, but you walked away. Fool, frightened little fool. It was there for the taking but you crumbled... you couldn't walk, you couldn't talk.... you wept, you hurt, you froze. If only you did it our way.... "Have it our way"  Loser! We all gained, you lost! We all embraced, you are left alone. BUT WHY? God why? If it was You, why did I dare not go. I did not hear You calling... All the warnings blared into my soul.... "it's a trap" "you can't trust them" "they don't live in reality" "they desperatel...

Every time I try to be a mother... I try to guide, direct, lead... I am treated terrible. I don't know why you God made me a mother. I am not at all cut out for this. I have tried. I have failed. Nothing I do is right. I am ignored, disrespected, despised. Why am I here? I am certain someone else could have been a much better mother for my children. This is not a pity party statement - it is a statement of truth! A rare fool could have done a worse job then me .... and they probably would have been appreciated. I don't handle rejection well. Does anybody? It appears that other children listen and respect their parents. Is this true? Are is a just a charade everyone is playing? Is the Emperor Really Wearing no clothes in every home, and families just pretend they are real.... or Do real functioning families exists? I do not want to talk about it anymore. I am sick... I was going to say I was sick of it, but in reality I am probably really just sick..... I am one flew...

SWAT! ow, ow, ouch - that hurts.... words slap into me I cheer, I smile, I express my emotions. SWAT! why? slapped again... stares, eyes roll, silent words of "she's weird"...."cuckoo"....it hurts deep inside. I gleefully make a comment, fully engaged, enjoying the moment in life. SWAT! SWAT! their eyes slash through me....hurtful, hideous eyes What is wrong? Why can't I just be me? I might be different, can't help it, it is who I am. I am different. Why can't people be kind and accept me? The pain runs over....the gruntle-scream roars out of the deepest ravines of my being....and I cry, I cry, I cry for years of pain....and I cry, I cry, feeling quite insane...and I cry, I cry, accepting who I am, and I cry, I cry, remembering my grandmothers that were the same..... Did anyone hear them when they cried out in pain? When the electrodes were attached to their bodies and the jolt roared through their bones....did they cover up their screams....was an...