Unworthy

I had no intention of blogging today but something has been bothering me for a while and I really needed to express myself.

When I met my ex husband all those years ago, he promised to love, honor and cherish me.  He promised to never hurt me.  He was my protector...my knight in shining armor.  The day I realized those were merely just words was the day I lost trust in men.  Of course, years after the fact, I've come to the realization that not all men are the devils spawn and one day God would bless me with someone that is true to his word; someone who would know a beautiful, honest and loving woman when he saw her.  He would, by my imagination, be my knight in shining armor.  He'd say all the right things and do all the right things. He'd love me unconditionally because he would know that I'm sincere and good.  Of course we all know that fantasies like that don't happen in real life. My life story is nothing compared to The Notebook or PS. I Love You.  It closely resembles that of Tina Turner (of course, I can't sing, don't have fantastic legs or am wealthy enough to buy myself happiness).  It's a train wreck with speed bumps and flat tires.  Anyways, I'm veering from the purpose of this blog...

Although I've yet to find my prince charming, I fear that when he finally shows up, I'll feel unworthy of all his goodness.  I fear that all those feelings of worthlessness will be there waiting to sabotage the beautiful future that I've been dreaming of.  I hesitate to reach out for fear of failure.  I fear that good things are always a mirage and as soon as I reach out to take a drink, I'll be drinking sand.  Why? If you're told long enough that you don't deserve it, chances are you start to believe that you don't.  The mind can be a terrible thing. It can twist your words and harden your heart.  It can make you believe things that aren't there.  You can tell me a million times that God wants me to be happy.  You can tell me that I'm a beautiful person and I deserve all the happiness in the world, BUT his words resonate in my mind as if they're a tattoo on my skin; there and unable to be removed.  You're not worthy. No one will ever love you. What man will want you? No man in his right mind would ever be with a woman with 5 kids. You're updateable. You're not the girl a man takes home to mom. Oh, I've heard them all.  What are the chances they'd all be wrong? There has to be some truth in there right? They can't all be wrong.  Even if I could remove the feelings of unworthiness, who's to say my feelings of inadequacies don't shine like a beacon on a dark night? 

I refrain from looking at myself in the mirror because I hate to see the person looking back at me. I don't see a spark of life. I don't see a future of beautiful days. I see sorrow and pain. I see wishful thinking and days that never come.  I see a broken and empty soul. A heart shattered into unfixable pieces. It's days like today that I feel so helpless and alone...unappreciated and desperate to be fixed. Oh how I wish all of this would disappear.  I'd give all of my worldly possessions, as few as they are, to be just like you. I'd love to enjoy the sunshine with my whole being and not just the exterior. It's very easy to mask your true feelings behind the facade of "happiness".  It's easy to smile, but inside feel like you're suffocating. Debbie, just smile and pretend that it doesn't hurt. Pretend like you're as happy as other people want you to be.

I've spent so much time rolling with the punches that I feel the weight of the world on my shoulders.  I'd give anything to feel content and free.  Free to love the way I want; content to exhale.  Being a domestic violence survivor is a heavy burden to carry.  The emotional wounds bury themselves deep into the soul of a woman.  Survival is an ongoing process.  You don't wake up one morning and say, I'm better and this doesn't bother me any longer. It takes time and patience.

The Hardest Part...

If I had to sit here and contemplate what the hardest part of this whole ordeal is, I'd have to say looking my kids in the face and feeling so much guilt and shame inside.  Guilt for staying so long. Shame for not being strong enough to leave. Guilt for seeing all the trials and tribulations they go through. Shame for not speaking up for myself. Guilt for not...picking the right father for them.  It's true what "they" say. Guilt and regret will break you down until you can't see the light at the end of the tunnel.  It's so easy to say, it's not my fault or he did this to me. However, the reality of the situation is, you can say it until you're blue in the face but it won't make you believe it.  You have to feel it.  As of yet, I don't feel anything but negative.  Sometimes I just sit here and wish I didn't feel at all. It would be so much easier if it all just went away.  I want it to disappear like the stars when the sun peaks over the horizon to say good morning.

The warning signs were always there.  Maybe I wanted to love so badly that I was willing to overlook them.  Maybe I wanted the fairy tale ending that you see in the movies.  My favorite by far is Pretty Woman. Who wouldn't want Richard Gere showing up on their fire escape, in all his glory, telling you he's your knight in shining armor?  Eh, maybe not Richard Gere...I'll take Shemar Moore instead :o) Anyways...

Did I want to love so badly that I overlooked the needs of my children?  I was so busy worrying about my own hopes and dreams that I forgot about theirs.  I robbed my daughter of her precious childhood.  She lost her faith, hope and trust because I wanted to love... because I wanted my fairy tale. Instead of worrying about what she was going to wear to school, she was worried about protecting me and her brothers and sister.  Instead of wishing for the latest toy or book, she was wishing for a "normal" family.  How do I, as a mother, get over that guilt?  How do I move to space where I can look at myself in the mirror and say, I did the best I could?  Deep down inside I feel like a failure. I feel like the lowest of the low. My son struggles everyday with PTSD/ADHD. He struggles in school. He struggles at home. He struggles to control his emotions. My beautiful boy feels like the world is on his shoulders...and it's my fault. How do I talk to him and say, it's going to be ok, when I don't know if it will?  How do I look at him and not feel ashamed?  I did this to him. I could have prevented all of this...if I were stronger. I teach my kids that they should always take responsibility for their actions.  Well, it was my responsibility to protect them. It was my responsibility to let them be little. Let them be happy and carefree.  I'm taking responsibility and it's a hard dose of medicine to swallow.

This is no pity party.  I don't feel sorry for myself. I'm not looking for sympathy. I'm saying this so you won't have to.  I hope my words can save you from a lifetime of guilt and shame. I'm saying this so you can look at your child and see the sparkle of innocence in their eyes; not the dull ember of a lost childhood.

Don't stay because you love him. Leave him because you love your children more.  Maybe if I took my own advice, my heart wouldn't be so heavy. 

“See that you do not despise one of these little ones. For I tell you that in heaven their angels always see the face of my Father who is in heaven."   Matthew 18:10