She's Just Going Through a Phase

A new baby's coming, so, naturally, she's going to paint on her floor, spill everything she can, throw expensive products down the toilet, backtalk, hate me. I tell myself she's just adjusting. Truth is, she's just being a kid. What's my excuse? I'm the one not adapting, and terrified at being a new mother again. I let myself feel alone, but in all actuality am alone most of the time. That's all.

Corner Post

There are things you cannot achieve, cannot learn, cannot fathom until you're pushed into a corner to do so and stripped of everything you believe constitutes you. I find this annoying, mostly because I can only learn these things by suppressing how to instinctively feel: bitter, angry, jealous, harrowed, and all other ugly attributes. Asking me not to feel these things is asking me not to feel anything. As if pushing, bypassing these feelings makes room for happy feelings. It doesn't. It leaves me numb, and feeling nothing. Training myself to feel nothing when the alternative is to feel ugly. "Teach yourself to feel the good feelings when someone slaps you". I realize Jesus can do this; I cannot. Moreover, I resent being asked to if i'm being honest. I keep blaming my life. Life. This in-adamant creature who torments me because he gets a thrill out of it. I know better than to blame God, so I make up another unstoppable force to lay all my blame on. I take none of it for myself because I feel I have no control over everything that keeps slaughtering  me. This "attitude" will sabotage my relationships, deteriorate my hope, and dissipate any faith I may have gathered. Knowing this, grasping this, I still cannot let it go that easily. Nobody cares because nobody feels, or see's. They have their own, of which I do not know or see. So cruel. So empty, and void of all empathy. Quiet, and lonely. These are my feelings, and things I can't ignore.

All I see in a lollipop is diabetes.