It has been a while

I find myself realizing that I haven’t written anything in a while. It’s not that I don’t like to write or anything. I just think that I am still struggling with letting go of the verbal and mental abuse I had growing up. No matter what I do, I am not good enough.

Please do not misunderstand what I am saying. Yes, as an adult, I know how to reframe my way of thinking, but these roots sweety are thick and deep to the point that I’ve just learned to live with the silent whisper I hear in my head.

My affirmations and mantras are louder than my trauma, but when the PTSD combines with the depression, oh boy, does it make it so hard for me to stay focused on the positive things I am saying to myself. I then go. I will do it when I feel better. But let us be honest, when will I feel better?

Unless a big pile of money falls on my lap that would allow me to purchase a van so that I can transport my children and wheelchair and rent a home for us to live in. I won’t be feeling better any time soon. This motel and our situation are so darn depressing and the biggest trigger I live with. I wake up to this trigger, and I go to sleep to this trigger.

I am basically living in survivor mode right now, and I have been for years. This is no way for anyone to live. I am trying to find ways to finally get out of this survivor mode that I am in. Getting out of survivor mode will be extremely difficult without resolving the issues I am struggling with.

I have a vision and a game plan, but it relies on the help of other people. This doesn’t sit well with me; having to place my trust in another person is very difficult for me since we have been let down by so many others that it is hard for me to believe anything anyone says to me, especially when it comes to helping.

I’ve had so many people or agencies tell me don’t worry, we got you, we will help you and what do I get from those words, dead silence or crickets. They never follow through on the empty promises they gave me. It was my mistake to think I could count on someone else. When this happens, it just makes me wonder what is wrong with myself and my children: we can’t find support no matter where we turn.


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