Where do I start?

And where exactly do I start and why am I putting fingers to keyboard to pour out my heart on the screen?  I’m talking to myself here …. you know, “I need an intelligent conversation” type question.

Maybe putting feelings about my world may be ‘cathartic’ as I’ve often read this can be a positive consequence of dumping stuff on a page or screen ….. you know, “journalling”.  I’ve never been one for journalling as such, although i’ve been told many times by many that journalling cleanses the soul.  We’ll see.

How anonymous am I here? ….. we’ll see …. not very I suspect.  It was interesting to read an article about the most recent “school shooting” in the US, where the whole article listed every online visit, tap of the keyboard, connections and google searches that the shooter had made recently.  I think there is way way too much publicity about each shooting which feeds the plans of the next shooter.  Anyway, I just wanted to highlight and remind myself about the ‘anonymity’ bit.

I’m starting off here pretty sad and I hope that things will improve …. we’ll see.

I heard Rosie Batty (Australian, whose son was killed by his own father) say the other day that “she is no longer a mother”.  I can relate to that but in a different way that is no less traumatic.  My teenage children have been alienated from me by their father.  But like all parental alienation, the kids have “bought into it” somewhere along the line.  I’ve done all I can as a mother ….. I’m human, make mistakes, have little support, continue on, lost so so much, get taken advantage of and I’m actually disliked.  In fact, I think I’ve been disliked for a long time.  Criticism and rejection are my worst fears and I’m experiencing that in spades.  The sense of general loneliness I feel has its root in my inability to trust – then when I do trust  – I’m reminded of why I shouldn’t !!

I miss my kids more than I would ever have imagined, but I’ve always felt empathy for those mums and dads whose kids have turned away from them ….. I’ve seen their pain as though it was a bright colour.  Never thought I would be in their position.

Hmmmm ….. how about that.  Perhaps I’m feeling better already.

My underlying sense of fear of not belonging anywhere has its root in the fact that the same father of my kids gambled my life savings and security of my home ……. the rental world is where I now exist and it’s very very scary.  I’ve tried to tell myself that I can cope;  I’ve worked on acceptance (I have no choice) but the reality seeps through.  I actually feel destroyed.  I’m a shell of my former self.  Yet I still love music and the beach.  Where I am living at the moment is way too far from the water and I can feel it within me.

I’m rethinking so many things as there is really no point in having this “future hope” garbage that others want to throw at you.  Sorry, I’m too old for that and if the past is anything to go by …. well, I tend to not look back too often.  I visited Gallipoli for the centenary year.  I came back with a different view of war.  I don’t think it should be celebrated like we do.  Most decisions made about these battles were insane, yet we continue to “celebrate” it.  Perhaps we are moving away from the ‘celebration’ as such ……. there’s nothing to be proud about in this really, except that men and women followed their governments’ orders.  It was an experience to be on that beach and to see those trenches ……. I now see things differently as I’m looking for the positive.

I’m loving the volunteer work I do with the homeless …. It’s a distraction and to be honest, there’s something about being around people who appreciate everything you do.  But I need to get a salaried position and need to feel appreciated.  Spent too long traumatised and feel very behind in so many ways.  Perhaps I was never capable of being a mother as I seem to have been judged so harshly and even lied about …. and the silence of injustice is deafening.

I need to find some joy …… otherwise what is the point …. to be continued

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