Life Isn't Fair

I'm tired,
My heart is hurting, and I feel like I don't fit in.

I feel especially sad tonight listening to my children call their dad's new wife mom, and me by my first name. My first name is Kimberly and I love it. I think it's a beautiful name, but from my children I want to hear mommy, not Kimberly. I am their mother. I know they are small and don't know the difference, and usually it doesn't bother me, but tonight it stung.

maybe..

Because I'm emotionally exhausted,

I'm lonely,

I miss my family,

I'm tired of parenting alone,

I'm tired of crying into a pillow with no shoulder to cry on.

I'm tired of putting on a happy face.

I'm tired of feeling like I don't fit in.

I don't want to feel depressed.

I don't want to jump at loud noises.

I don't want to panic when I hear the sound of a helicopter.

I don't want this.

This is what PTSD feels like to me.

As I sleep at night I may be reminded of blood, fear, pain, and suffering, but in my heart of hearts I dream of....

Magestic mountains, A peaceful old farmhouse with a big back porch. A chicken coop where I take the little ones every morning to discover natures art of egg laying. A huge comfy chair for reading. A tree with a tree house and tire swing. The smell of the wholegrain waffles with fresh strawberries and whipped cream that I make everymorning for breakfast. A small stream with a little bridge. Tadpoles and fish, butterflies and lightning bugs. I want to see these things in a jar on my kitchen table. Enough room for guests, and yet cozy enough to be close and snug. I dream of a sky so clear that it draws us to nightly stargazing and eternal pondering. Enough land for children to embrace a childhood filled with discovery. A porch swing to chat with friends and have moral discussions with my children. Enough pets to teach responsibility, enough laughter to drown away our sorrows, and enough love to last a life time. That's what I dream of. A place of peace, a space of love, My little slice of heaven on earth.

Cry