Stay alive, soft, dark and dreamless
Far beneath my nightmares and loneliness
Sometimes, when I’m still awake, it comes back. Those nights are the worst. Quiet and not nearly as painful as they used to be, but still it hurts. There’s no reason for the pain. I have my beautiful son whom I love more than anything sleeping next to me in his crib and a supportive mother and sister in the same house. I’m not alone, but I feel like I am because there’s something missing. During daytime, I feel whole and happy, but the nights scare me. I want someone to lean on, a warm chest I can fall asleep on, sex in the morning and a heartbeat to listen to. But I can’t get these things if I wanna be a good mother because Jamie’s father is someone whose hand I don’t even want to shake anymore because everything about him disgusts me and I can’t look out for another guy either. I don’t have the time or patience or nerves for a new relationship and I’m not the type of person who has one night stands. I’m back to school and when I’m home, I have a baby to take care of all day. Sounds easy, but it’s not. When you got a kid, you got a full time job because you always need to be there for your child. Of course there are babysitters and grandmas to help out, but who am I to give my kid away so I can have dates? That’s what immature stupid teen moms do.
My birthday came and went yesterday and nothing spectacular happened. Because of Jamie, I didn’t celebrate at all (didn’t want to anyway) and it was like any other day. I’m a good mother who cares about her child more than anything else because that’s how it’s supposed to be. A parent should put his or her child’s needs before any party, club or date. But I cannot deny this tiny aching hole inside of me crying for love. Not the family-love. Not the mother-son-love. The in-love-love. I want someone who holds me when the anxiety comes back and kisses my forehead and encourages me and make me feel prescious, beautiful and worthy of loving. Being with my son Jamie makes me feel like I’m in heaven, but I don’t feel like I deserve him. I just don’t feel good enough and I want someone to give me back that feeling I once was able to feel. I want my self esteem back, feel comfy with my body and have great nights with great sex (I’m in desperate need of sex after a freaking year without any) and sleeping in someone’s warm arms.
Isn’t that pathetic? I’m acting ridiculous. Ungrateful, immature, stupid little bitch. Shall I hate myself or is it normal to never have enough? I should worry about other things. Way more important things. Like my final exams. But, like I always do, I put those fears aside. The only things I can’t suppress anymore are my feelings. They are too strong, too intense. Stupid BPD. I’m a mother and student recovering, trying to get over all the shit I’ve done and that happened in the past and yet I waste my time with wishing for some guy I don’t need anyway in my freaky life! I wish I could talk to someone about it. I know there are people who would listen, but nobody would understand. Back when I worried about bullies, eating and not-eating, binging, purging, cutting and killing myself, I always had the other sick people around me I’d met at the psychiatric hospitals, but this time there’s no one to share my story. I’m alone with these thoughts. Maybe that’s how it’s supposed to be right now. Maybe I need to appreciate the moment. Maybe there’s just no boyfriend, lover or even a date for me and that’s how it should be. To be able to focus on myself, my school and most importantly, my son. Maybe I’ll find love again one day. True love and not the crap I went through in the past. Who says you can’t have a child and marry later? Maybe I won’t be alone forever, maybe I’m not that ugly. Maybe I just need to be alone with myself right now. I don’t know what to think anymore. There’s just too much on my mind and that makes me feel like I’m driving crazy. Shit, I feel so alone. I just wanna be happy.