In The Middle Of The Night

I wake up in the middle of the night, scared and upset with myself. 
I don't know what the future will bring. 
Or what the past will bring. 
That's why I've been stuck on the past. 
Because I know things are all connected. 
And I haven't done my absolute best in all situations. 
Because I got in my own way. 
And I wanted some things a different way. 
But a lot could have gone differently. 
Had I seen things that I see now. 
Is it too late? Can I fix anything?
I don't want to think that it is, and I want to think that I can. 
But can I? There were other times that I felt that there was no hope left
but there was some hope there. 
Is there some, this time?

It's hard to explain what I'm going through.
And hard to explain how it feels. 
"If I hadn't done this..... And done this instead...."
I didn't even know what I was doing, 
"but you should have known, A***!"
Yes, I should have known. 
How selfish I was being, but I couldn't. 

And I don't want to make people feel like they are obligated
to have me in their life. 
Especially when I haven't been able to provide them
with what they needed from me.
I have to learn to let people go. 
No matter how much I want to be in their life
or how much I want them in my life. 
I can't force that. 
I shouldn't be trying to force that. 
Or to get them to decide what they want when it comes to me.

And my fear of failing has got me failing so many times.
And wanting to feel loved. Because of those wounds. 
That I didn't realize were still bleeding.

My mother never told me she loves me. 
I made sure to tell my son but whether he believed me, 
that's for him to know. 

It's hard to tell, for him, I guess. 
Because of times I lost my patience, 
the times I got scared, 
the times I was too focused on other things. 
The times I didn't know that he was hurting, too. 
The times I wish that I knew and knew what to do for him. 
And the times he took it out on me.... 
Was because he couldn't tell me.

But the things he did tell me were and are still hard to take. 

Will someone else give him the hope and help
that he wasn't getting from me?

I was getting hope and help
from people other than my mother.... 
There is hope and help out there. 
But I beat myself with the fact that I could only give him so much. 
And what I gave him wasn't what he needed. 

I want to think there are good things coming, too. 
That it's not all fated to be.... Falling apart. 

I want to think that I can reconnect with my son. 
And that it will improve and get better for both of us. 
That there's hope to reconcile and move forward. 
That he can see why I did what I did. 
That he understands, one day, why a lot of things
went the way they did and why I was the way I was. 
But I am aware that he was affected by that.
That I had an effect on him. 
And the things that had an effect on me... 
And how those things affected me... 
It all reflected on things that could have gone another way. 

But a lot of it had to do with how I felt about myself. 
And a lot of it has to do with how he feels about himself. 
And how I contributed to that. 
Without meaning to, but I did. 

I kept trying to encourage him with his school stuff. 
PTSD made school difficult
and the PTSD was from school. 

There have been a lot of setbacks. 
And a lot of obstacles for both of us. 
We've both been struggling with our own things. 

Worrying and trying to get him help, wasn't helping. 
And it didn't help. It pushed him away.

And I have a few friends telling me that they would have
done what I did. But does that mean I should have?
I mean if it wasn't what they wanted me to do.... 
And wasn't appreciated.... 
Even the reason why I did it wasn't appreciated.... 
And I wasn't being appreciated, either. 
But is it about me? No. It never was.

I know I disappointed him. Many times. 
And I'm having a hard time getting over it. So is he. 
I have to let him choose and make choices. 
He will make mistakes, too. 
He has to grow and mature. I can't interfere too much in that.

I just feel like all the disappointments have given him
the view of me that he has.
And his father's view of me has influenced his view of me. 

And I realize that these issues I've had
haven't lent anything positive towards the view
people have of me in general. 

So many sleepless nights.... 

But there are people out there who DGAF.
Does my mother lose sleep over anything she did to me?

Did these abandoment issues get me holding on too tight? At times?
Did wanting to have a bond make me and others feel bound?

I wasn't and haven't been healthy. I know this. 
It's so f*cking apparent and I've been trying to be a parent. 
Just because I thought I could do a decent job
doesn't mean that I could and that I did. 

As f*cked up as I am, I'm sure I could have been worse. 
And that's not justifying my being f*cked up. 
But I definitely couldn't see what I wasn't seeing. 
I wish I had seen it all a long time ago. 
Wishing that I had doesn't make it so. 
I can see it now, though. 

But it keeps me up at night. Wakes me in the middle of the night. 
All the things I didn't do right
and feel like I might not be able to make right. 

Because trying to make it right seems like some manipulation. 
Like everything I ever tried to so seemed. 
Because I wanted a better outcome. And I didn't get that. 
Because of everything that came before that. 
Some of it was beyond my control. 
But I wasn't being careful, either. 

I was counting on the things that brought us together
to keep us together, but it doesn't work like that. 
And for us to keep the good memories alive, 
and not just all the bad memories. 
And I thought I had more time, but I didn't. 
And was hoping he would see the good in me, too. 
Not just all the disappointments. 
Sometimes he did. Sometimes he didn't. 
But I could only hope that he did.

It keeps waking me up. And knowing there isn't much I can do,
other than try to tell him these things. 
Some of these things in hopes that he can understand. 
But he may not want to hear anything I have to say. 

"I don't want to see, hear, or acknowledge your existence."
And if that came from me to him, that would have hurt him. 
He knew that was going to hurt me. 
But I put him through stuff he didn't have to be put through. 

So do I reach out? Still keep trying?
When he doesn't want anything to do with me?
Do I still keep fighting for this? For him?
What would you do? What would you say?
What can I do? What can I say?
To make everything better? To make things right?
To potentially change the future for the better?

I can't sleep anymore. So restless. So tired. 
"Was it all your fault? Or was it other things and people, too?"
Because you only have to take responsibility
for YOUR part in this. Yes.

"You can't control other people's reactions to you."
But how can they react favorably to things that weren't in their favor?
When you were too blind to see some things?

Yes, I'm being hard on myself. 
Because I should have done better and been better. 
And I wasn't. That's on me. 
For having wasted so much time on the wrong things. 
I AM SO MAD AT MYSELF!!!!! 
BUT WHERE DOES THAT GET ME?
ANYWHERE?!

DO I JUST FOCUS ON MYSELF?
AND PRETEND LIKE NOTHING EVER HAPPENED?
HOW CAN I? 

I feel like I can't keep living my life. 
Unless I try to fix things. 
That I might never be able or allowed to fix. 

A***, things were okay. They weren't perfect, but they were okay. 
But a lot had gone wrong because I was wrong. 
"But you weren't the only one who was wrong, A***.
It's not entirely your fault.
If everything was up to you, it'd have been all up to you.
It wasn't all up to you.
If it was, you'd be able to fix everything.
But it's not all up to you."
Other people have to change their minds
and see you and see things differently, 
but that is up to them, not up to you. 
You can't convince people who don't want to be convinced. 
It's hard to even convince myself
that there's hope, that he'll come back around, 
that things will work out. Somehow. 
Because there are no guarantees. Ever. 
Except that we are all going to die, one day. 
That things change, people can change, too. 

It's been really f*cking hard to let go. 
Because I don't want to. He's still my kid. 
He wants me to. I'm having a hard time accepting that. 

Can you still become a better version on yourself, A***?
Can you still overcome some things in your life?
Instead of focusing so much on how you f*cked up?
It's so hard to move forward from this. 
F*cking up means that you are human. 
And being human is being human. 
Are we all supposed to be perfect?

Why do I still feel the paralysis?
Why do I still feel like I might not get through to him?
Why do I feel like a major chapter of my life is over?
Why do I still still like there is little to no hope?

For that reunion to happen?
Because some things might not go back to the way they were.
And you have to accept that, A***.

Once people look at you like you're crazy.... 
They are going to look at you like you're crazy..... 
And how are you supposed to convince them that you're not?
How are you supposed to convince them
that there are some redeeming qualities about you?

If someone doesn't want to acknowledge you, 
can you make them? Can you make them listen?
Our lives can change when we do. 
But we can't make people change if they don't want to. 

All the times I wanted to die
were times I wanted my life to be different. 
I wasn't admitting that I had ruined my life
and ruined all the chances that I got
to try to make things better. 
I wasn't admitting to a lot of things. 
Because it was painful to admit to those things. 
Painful to even realize these things. 
And yes, it made me feel bad about myself. 
It made me feel even worse. 

All the while feeling like I was never good enough
to do all the things I had to do. 
To make myself good enough. 
Just barely surviving. What was I teaching anyone?
What was I showing anyone?
Wtf was I doing with my life?
And for that I blame myself. 

And losing my relationship with my son makes me feel like sh*t. 
How many chances did I have?
How many chances did he give me?
How many chances did I give myself?
And I was looking for chances from who?
From guys who didn't need a chance with me?
Because I had stupid beliefs?
That I'd be happy when I found a good relationship?
Instead of building a better relationship with my son?

And I haven't been dating for the last 4 years. 
Except that one guy. Who I never got anywhere with.... 
When I could have been giving my time to my son. 
When he wanted it, on his terms. 
Just to be there for him, with him, when he wanted me to be. 
And I should have been there for him. 
That was my job. My one job. 
There was a time I stayed at home to be with him, to be there for him. 
Taking him to the Library. Encouraging him with his piano lessons, 
and his interests in math. 

I wasn't the worst mother in the world, but wasn't the best. 
I wish I had never started drinking and never got back into drugs. 
I wish I had faced really f*cking hard stuff a long time ago. 
It's one thing to finally admit it. 
But when you can't do anything about
what's already been done.... What can you do?

"Change for the better, A***."
I feel like all of this is my fault. All of it. 
Can't begin to explain how that feels. 
Feels like it won't ever go away. 
Because that fact remains. 
But I can't start drinking again. I can't. 
It took too long to decide to quit. 
But I don't know how to stop feeling like this. 
Even when I sleep, I wake up feeling like this. 
If I can sleep. 
It's not a good feeling, at all. 

It doesn't seem that anything or anyone can make it go away. 
No drugs, no alcohol, no sex, nothing. 
I know other parents go through this, too. Not just me. 
I didn't think about any of this stuff when I was 18.
When I got pregnant. 
I had options, though. 
I could have put him up for adoption. 
I could have given him a better life. 

My son is upset that he was even born. 
Says he never asked to be born. 
And that I am selfish. 
He doesn't want to be here. 
He blames me for bringing him into the world. 

And it's a horrible feeling. 
Another level of guilt. 
Which makes me feel even more like sh*t.

To know I f*cked up this much that my kid feels this way. 
About him and about me. 
About his life. 
Because I didn't choose to give him a better life. 

And knowing that he may never talk to me again?
How does that feel? That's pretty painful. 

And there are a few people who I may never talk to again, 
but my son... But to hear him tell me those things....
And I have to stop trying to reach out to him.
I'm probably not going to hear from him again. 

And that's really hard to take. Really hard. 
And all the times I thought I'd never see him again.... 
But this time is hardest, by far. 

It's been pretty painful and hurt me so much coming from my kid. 
But I get that I guess I acted like a nut
because I was worried about him. 
And I know he needs help, and he knows that he does, too. 
But he doesn't want to get it. 
And the doctors don't really know what they are doing. 
Some of the medication makes stuff worse. 

The company that makes Zoloft is supposedly
hired to make the vaccine for Covid. 
And I really don't trust them
because Zoloft has really bad effects on people. 
And they shouldn't be giving it to teenagers. 
Or anyone, period. 

But people need to learn things about themselves
to become aware of things about themselves. 
And want to learn those things. 

We aren't born learning how to control our minds. 
Depression is something. 
Sometimes I'm able to pull myself out of it. 
I know that a lot of people struggle pulling themselves out of it. 
There are days I really have a hard time coping. 
But I can't hit people up constantly to ask them things. 
And I can't tell everyone the extent of the stress. 

Because I don't know how I'm really making it through the days.
When I tell anyone, they want to run. 
Because they'd know the extent to my issues. 
And there are only a few who do. 
And one isn't talking to me anymore. 
Because I told him, but not everything. 
And then I got scared that it probably changed
how he saw me.... So I wanted to be sure.

And here I am thinking about this stuff. 
Like I can't have a relationship of any kind with anyone. 
Because it's hard to 'be myself' when there's stuff
that they don't know about me. 
But there are some things that probably
are just too heavy to tell anyone. 

And that's what makes it feel so heavy. 
Like a big weight on me. 
And makes it feel like I can't even move at times. 
Wakes me from my sleep. 

I try to tell myself that things will work out.
I really hope that things turn around. 
I don't know how to turn things around from here. 

Any point in the past, I could have. 
Could have turned myself around.
Can still try to, now.

My son can turn himself around. 
But he hasn't been seeing those around him turn themselves around. 
He's seen me quit drinking, and quit smoking. 
But there's a big room for improvement. 
For me and most people. 
But people can turn themelves around. 

It's all been my fault. 
Most of it. 
Because I could have chosen something else. 
And I didn't. 

The feeling won't go away.