May: Mental Health Awareness Month

May is an observed month for Mental Health Awareness in the United States since 1949. 

 

Though I am not a citizen of America, I share the experience of Mental Illness with the whole world. And sharing my experience is an important point I’d like to advocate for on my blog. 

• Mental Health Awareness week is May 1st – May 7th in Canada.
• The statistics in Canada for women who reported going through postpartum depression is 7.5%.

 

 

 

 

If you are not a follower of my blog, I want you to know that I suffer from Postpartum Depression & Anxiety, OCD that I recently just discovered. The statistics in Canada for women who reported going through postpartum depression is 7.5%. That’s not a huge number in terms of reports of women having it. I say this because, it is not an illness that women/men openly talk about, but this is a very common and unexpected illness that most new parents and parents in general experience in first few years.

Having shared my initial experience of finding out I have it, was a struggle on its own but the outpouring support from the community of bloggers have mostly mentioned how this is not a common topic talked enough about. There isn’t much light being brought to raise awareness of this illness. Just like anyone would be concerned about cancer, this too is an illness that cannot be controlled and should gain the concern it requires.

 

Its an illness that that hides inside of the person and finds itself free to attack the person at any unexpected moment. 

 

What makes it even worse is the fact that it’s a mental health illness. Just say mental health in your head again, and what comes to mind? A person with an unstable mind? A person who is capable of bad things because they’re not all there, up there? A person who cannot perform their usual duties as a citizen or an individual because their brain cannot function like a ‘normal person’? That’s the stigma talking. That’s also the stigma stuck in my head when I first thought about what it would be like to share this with others.

FEAR!

Individuals who experience some sort of Mental Illness, struggle internally to share in words that would allow the receiver to understand.  The truth is, most individuals who experience mental illness cannot always find the words to say without sounding like they are ‘crazy’. Your mind plays tricks on you. You’re not really sure why you’re thinking, what you’re thinking–why you’re irrational, emotional and absolutely out of character.  Well it’s a chemical imbalance. Your emotions are all out of whack, even though the issue is with your brain that’s mostly, usually realistic, rational, and stern; with mental illness, none of that is how it’s supposed to be.

 

Mental illness is not something anyone just fixes for the person suffering. It is not an illness that the individual can just brush off and everything returns to ‘normal’.
It is an illness that cannot be helped (I repeat this because for those who don’t know this is a common misconception). 

There are a lot of people who choose to be ignorant about mental illness. Those people who have never experienced it with someone they love or for themselves.  People who don’t care enough about the importance of why this illness matters enough to be talked about. Sure back then (40’s, 50’s, maybe early 60’s) this isn’t a thing to be sharing with the world. It means you got sent to an institution because they didn’t have a solution for this. And what they did have for it was more pain. 

“Well, here’s the thing..you have to really think outside of your ass in order to really understand this. You’re not going to find it in there. This is just as important to understand as anything else that threatens the value of life.”

 

Mental illness doesn’t just affect the person who has it but also those dearest to their heart. It affects families. The challenges of this illness takes a tole on each individual members of a family. The tole of this illness is the very thing that makes the feeling of guilt ever so present in motherhood.

HAVING CHILDREN IS NOT THE MAIN CAUSE OF THIS ILLNESS! 

There are several factors to why an individual finds themselves with this illness. The majority of women I have been able to connect with who suffer from this illness has openly shared the traces of their sickness reaching back to before they even had children. Having children is one of the factors that contributes at a later time in life, but it is an illness that roots from past experiences. Yes it can be from the sudden change of life experiences, in motherhood but for the most part this illness is traced from what’s already happened that the individual has fought to shove in a box, in the back of their minds. It can be hereditary. Something you didn’t know runs in your family bloodline. For someone who’s not aware of her roots, this is something I cannot trace back to roots. One thing I am certain of though is that, I’ve a lot of pent up anger that roots from my childhood that I kept in an box inside, far back that has now found its way creeping in on top of all the other stressor accompanying motherhood. 

If you know anyone who appears to be having a hard time emotionally, please offer to listen. Don’t judge or start diagnosing someone of what YOU THINK the problem is, but rather provide resources of different types of help they can seek professionally that may more helpful. 
There are a ton of people, communities who advocate for the awareness of this illness and mental illness in general. Please educate yourself if you’re uncertain of what mental illness is and how it affects a person. Don’t be ignorant. Don’t be judgemental because I can guarantee you, this is not my choice! No one wants to suffer emotionally and psychologically.

 

 

MM

My Sweet Louise (series)

PHOTOCREDIT: H.K.

My heart is heavy. My heart aches. My heart is weary and I can’t shake this feeling. 

Though our paths have yet to meet in person, you have left a mark in my heart so great that what you are going through saddens my very soul. 

There has only been one other moment when I cried and hurt for someone else’s pain. The injustice, and unfairness that you and your family suffer from is heavy. I guess it makes me a selfish person to rarely feel for others as much. BUT YOU, you always feel for others, even when you know them, not well. But it takes great pain for me to feel. And your pain is so much, my soul cries. 

Remember in the hardest moments that will soon nag you more than it already has, you are loved. You are missed. Your kindness is missed. Your smile is missed. Your wisdom is missed. But this I know, your love is always close by. And not a moment you are forgotten. Be brave, be strong, keep your heart strong, keep singing and keep praying. 

It is a break to strengthen you more. To spread your experience and strengthen others. You are one of the strongest woman I have ever come to know and God will see you through this. 

I will still be here, when you return.
With lots of love, 

Thelma. 

MM, out! 

Half Point

It’s been nineteen days since my last post. It’s been crazy busy in the last few weeks, with small minor details consuming our days. It’s not very often when we get ‘down time’. There’s always plenty to do. Aside from mommy duties, there are a ton of stay-at-home mom stuff that needs tending to.

The last three weeks, seemed to have been a little easier with going out. Exactly three weeks ago, I got my license to legally drive. It’s been great to to just go when you have to. I’ve taken Apollo on ‘mommy and kuya’ dates, frozen yogurt treats with Arty, and small ventures to the grocery and Starbucks for some ‘me-time’.

Apollo was to spend two weeks at his grandparents in Toronto, but half-way through his mini-vacation away from home, he missed us and wanted to come home. We drove to Toronto, two consecutive weekends in a row. Dropping him off, and then picking him up. He, of course, changed his mind, the minute we arrived. Bribed with the thoughts of camping in the backyard with Papa, and other small adventures with the person he admires most, Papa. We didn’t end up letting him stay, because missing him was just too much. So now, the house is filled with noise, running around, and constant ‘mommy can I play on the Wii-u”, “watch YouTube”, “play NHL on the PS4”, and so on. I wouldn’t have it any other way.

The girls and I have been sick this week. In the middle of summer, it’s always fun to be sick…said nobody! Perhaps, we’re all just a little tired and then some.

Does anybody know what happened to summer? It’s already half way done. It seems like it was just last week, when Apollo finished Grade 1, and we’re excited about the summer at home. Now, it’s half way over and we’re thinking about school shopping for Grade 2. On that same note; Apollo is going to Grade 2. Whoa. Where did the time go? I can’t believe he’s going into Grade 2. It’s all too fast.

Two months from now it’s Halloween, and it’ll be Cassi’s first Halloween. Then two months after that, it’s Christmas. I’m not mad though. Christmas is the most exciting time of the year in my household. We absolutely love Christmas. Maybe it’s just me. Maybe I’m the one who gets everyone riled up about it. But hey, I can’t wait. It’s definitely exciting to decorate and have the kids celebrate this wonderful time. It puts an emphasis on Family, not that it’s not emphasized enough throughout the year. But it makes it a must! I can’t wait!

I realize this post barely has anything for you to ponder about. But then again, I said I would only share what I had in mind.

Hope you have a wonderful Tuesday…wait, it’s Wednesday!

Just a rant of updates for you.

 

xo, MM

 

Baby just drive

I thought for the longest time that I’d never get my license to drive.  My father was afraid to drive from a traumatic event when he was still a bit young. A truck dragged him. This in turn effected his wonder to drive. We never had a car, we relied on public transportation. It grew on me as I got older, the convenience of going everywhere just by riding one transportation to another. It became a thing for me; riding the public transit as some thrill space.  

As I got older, I just never thought I’d ever go for my license. I didn’t think of ever owning a car. I know absolutely nothing about cars. But time has changed. Motherhood has changed me.

You know that list of motherhood that everyone’s passed around on Facebook? The one where it lists your job as a mother; a cook, a nurse, an song artist, a driver? Yeah, for the longest I thought my list of motherhood is short of one compare to most. I’m not a driver for my kids, because well I don’t ever drive. Today that changed. I know it’s funny of me to be so proud of this, but getting my license kind of opens up doors in my box of parenting. It provides freedom, better access to my requirements, it just gets me out and going to get the things I need done. So yay ! Thanks j, for pushing me to do this. You’re right. It does help! 

In other news; the weather in windsor has been quite crazy hot, lately.  I heard even in Toronto it’s the same.  Luckily tonight we got some thunder, lightning and a crazy amount of rain.  Tomorrow is supposed to carry throughout the day, and then clear on Friday and for the rest of the weekend. We’ve been growing a forest in the backyard.  J doesn’t want to cut the grass because the lawn mower sucks and the grass is all uneven. The yard needs work. Work neither of us are willing to do. So we’ll have to dig for some lawn caretakers. 

Mothering be like; Apollo. Apollo has been on some crazy tip lately. A tip I cannot find the connecting wire to. He’s bearable at times, and times when I swear he’s into this whole ‘bad boy’ persona. I’m just gonna roll my eyes at this because I’ve run out of excuses in my head for what I’m doing wrong. All I’ve really got is brain farts about this topic. #stillstruggling #sevengoingonseventeen 

I really just wanted to update you on my G2 license exam.  But the day has been super long with constantly trying to find the patience to figure stuff out with Apollo on the daily. But you should know, he’s a good kid, with a good heart, and I still love him with my every being. He’s my favourite son, you know! 

xo, MM 

When Peanut Butter hits the fan

It has been quite hard on J and me lately. We’ve found ourselves misunderstanding each other, and unable to find the string that connects us. It’s not rare for these moments to occur, especially when you’re parenting three kids, tending to life on the daily, and crossing off responsibilities on the constant. It’s very hard for J and me to have a moment alone. We don’t ever get the chance to go on dates, alone, or have a moment to hear ourselves converse. It gets tricky when you have children (I’m sure you can all relate to this).

Well? What happens when you’ve had just enough of parenting, and you try to find each other through the dirt, the mess, and the chaos of being parents? You sometimes don’t. So I guess, that’s what’s happening with us. We’re getting all our times mixed-up, and our priorities for each other lost.

I miss him. I see him everyday. We don’t ever get to cuddle anymore. The kids are always occupying the space between us. I wanna tell him secrets. The kids will hear. I miss holding him, as I fall asleep. Arty’s taken my spot, and the arm I used to cling to.

He mentioned we should get a babysitter or a nanny, so we could go out. I spent ten minutes after that telling him with anxiety how terrible I feel about it. I couldn’t imagine leaving my kids with a stranger, because I want a moment to myself. That’s the thing. I don’t know what I’m willing to give up. I feel like the juggle can only be done by me. The feeling of leaving the kids with a total stranger, just boggles my mind. I couldn’t. What if something happens to my babies? Why shouldn’t I be the first to be there, if they ever got hurt. What if that stranger is bad? Ugh. What am I willing to give up for a couple of ours of J & M-time?

My heart feels a little heavy lately. I can’t seem to find the string that connects J and me. It bothers me because we’re important too.

Any words of wisdom?

 

xo, MM

It weighs less to stop thinking too much

I’ve often found my past to be a neusance. It appears in moments like a puzzled film. It captures the state of my current heart only to fracture what I’ve managed to heal back together. I often like to dwell in pretending I’m some kind of superhero who can heal myself, with whatever kind of wounds that ceases my being in times when I’m strong. And one thing that always breaks me down; in moments of their weakness are my children.

I thought about the instances I’ve recently found myself in. Moments that wiggle themselves out from negative vibes. More recently it seems, I’ve a harder time finding the patience, understanding and courage to assess what’s happening with my son. He sits at number seven, and finds himself in the state of ‘bad to the bone’. I’m at my wits, trying to figure out how to ‘fix’ what’s being broken. Perhaps, I’m losing sight at the strands of what breaks him. Perhaps my visions are what needs fixing rather than catching only what he breaks. 

My son is the most sweetest, kindest, purest heart I’ve ever come to know (with the exception of my two girls who share this heart). His smile, it literally lifts you up from the pits of darkness one has managed to find themselves imprisoned in. His love for fun, intimidates ones very being because, sometimes when you’ve transformed into an adult, you lose your sense of innocence. I find its harder for me to sift through my chaos, to connect with him in his state of cognitive process. 

Tonight, a fellow blogger (@mikemadigan) made me see things in a different tone. 

It’s been stated many times before, ‘being a mother is hard’. It’s even more difficult when you’ve got demons you’ve yet to face. Perhaps what holds me back are my annoying fears, that like to sneak up to remind me I’ve got changes to stamp in the present, so that tomorrow may not sting as much. What I don’t realize is how much my vision of tomorrow, breaks my present time. 

We could all use a little less thinking and a little more feeling.

After all, those are the basis in which my son mostly functions in. I’ve forgotten to feel, so much so, he’s slowly drifting from me.  My very fear in being a mother. 

I shall stop blaming my past, and work on the now. My son deserves better! 

I’m hungry. It’s too late to snack. Tomorrow I’ve an hour of spare with Pami. I’m taking her for a drive again.
xo, MM

It’s always, YOUR TIME

I was sitting in bed last night contemplating whether or not to turn the fan on in the room. And suddenly I realized how lucky I am. I am sitting there with a controller for the fan that sits above us. No I didn’t need to get up to press a button, or turn a switch on. I could sit in bed and have this controller do it for me. I got to thinking about how J and I started…

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J and I lived in Scarborough, ON while I was pregnant with Apollo. J worked as a Reservations Manager, and I as customer service rep for U-Haul. I lost my job, for some petty stuff, and we had to make due with J bringing in the one income. We eventually moved in with his parents, to help with cost, just a few months before I was due to have Apollo. I remember J telling them I was pregnant. It was the most difficult thing in the world for him to do at the time. While I was twenty, and he was twenty-three, we weren’t financially stable. This was our fear for starting a family, as well as  his parents’. We understood that. But this wasn’t a yes or no answer. This was a moment in both our lives we had to stand-up to our responsibilities and move forward from there. For those thinking ” You could have had an abortion.”, this was not an option for either of us. My beliefs are strong with life-changing situations such as this, and I wasn’t going to be selfish and run away.

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When Apollo was born, J had taken parental leave to help me with the first few months of caring for a baby. After all, I had no clue what to do. I don’t have siblings, never did I have to take care of a baby alone. While my experiences in babysitting my little cousins, and baby nephews and nieces, it was a completely different experience to care for my own baby. Luckily J had a baby brother, who was sixteen years younger than him. He had gained experience in diaper changing, feeding, and changing clothes of a tiny baby. I, on the other hand, was too afraid to touch the baby. So him being home helped a lot. But this meant what he was earning was cut to almost half of what it was before. He didn’t earn much at U-Haul to begin with. When he returned to work, I had to be home alone with a newborn baby. This proved to be the most difficult thing in the world. But in moments as such, you find your way. You figure it out. You do what you can. Luckily his work moved closer to where we had moved and it was an easier commute for him.

It wasn’t easy sharing living space with his family. Personalities butt heads, and decision making was difficult for our little family, when you’ve got to be considerate of others. In times when we would fight, it would become embarrassing when we’re yelling at each other and trying to figure out our way together. When you first start a family, it’s not easy. You’re both learning to live together, both learning to do things together. You’re understanding responsibilities together and it puts strains on your relationship. We had to work on this, however way we had to, as long as we figured it out.

When Apollo was five months, we decided it was time for us to take charge of our lives, live through the choices we’ve made, and do our best to do things on our own. Well, we still required help from our families. It got really hard financially. J’s income for two weeks was the amount of what we had to pay for rent. We had gotten a car because we needed to get around and that added on to our costs per month. We had less than the bills we’ve accumulated. We were deep in waters, way above the waist. I had applied for a job at Tim Hortons, because I hadn’t gone to post-secondary studies to have a career. When would I have been able to find the time? That’s the mentality you have when you don’t know any better.Thankfully his uncle, and sometimes my Dad, would help babysit Apollo. This job helped a tiny bit with costs but it still wasn’t enough. Even worse, we had gotten into a car accident, had to get rid of the car, and now we’re down to one income again. J was injured and had to take leave from work. It was one unfortunate event after another. We had a couple floods occur during the few years we lived in that basement apartment. There wasn’t enough money to re-direct to various places. We were late on rent payments, struggled with all our other bills, and could barely afford the luxuries we took for granted when we were single. We ended up having to move back to his parents house again. One night, an infomercial on the television for post-secondary education had popped up while Apollo slept. We were sleeping in the living room on a blow-up bed, since J’s room had become a storage room shortly after we moved out. I thought about it in that moment, ” What would it take for me to upgrade my skills and provide a better life for our family?” I was set on going to school from that point on. Apollo was two and a half. I applied to Humber College and from there we had to move forward. We found an apartment north of where we were which would provide a closer distance from the school I would eventually attend. School was to begin in May and I had to figure out what I would do with Apollo while we were both gone. J had returned to work, and I was going to need someone to watch Apollo. My dad had offered; after a while it was no longer possible. Apollo would eventually turn four and he would require some type of social experience. We opted for child care. The good thing about being in Canada is you get some kind of help with child care fees. We were able to put Apollo in childcare without breaking our banks with the cost because most of the fees have been covered by child care assistance from the government. I felt at ease, knowing someone is watching Apollo while I was in school and J at work. But the feeling of being incapable of caring for my own child was always there. I had to do what I had to do. I worked really hard as a student, and in the end I attained Honours in Early Childhood Education. I graduated Honours.

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After completing my post-secondary studies, I began working part-time, while J worked full-time still at U-haul. Things got complicated for us at that time, because as much we have finally accomplished one of our many goals, he was beginning to hate his job. Five years at U-Haul, it felt like forever. It felt like he wasn’t going anywhere with working there. He felt stuck. He felt unhappy. He didn’t feel like it was enough to provide for his family. We had gotten into a huge fight one night, most likely because his unhappy attitude effected his home life. I’ve had it with the fights and arguments. I needed him to get better. I needed him to be happy again. I needed him to be the J I know. He was lost, far in there, hoping to be saved. Well he’s not one to ask to be saved. I couldn’t save him. I had one thing left to help him. Being the paper-hoarder that I am. I loved keeping papers in boxes for no reason. I had kept his acceptance letters from colleges when he first graduated from high school. WELL before we had Apollo. In this file was a variety of different types of programs he applied for, not knowing exactly what he wanted to do. A few of his options were, Fashion Design, Electro-mechanical Engineering Technician, Business Administration, and a few other ones. Well, I wasn’t too fond of Fashion Design. I had no clue what Electro-mechanical Engineering was, and he’s already had a go at Business Administration and didn’t like it. So he had to choose. I gave him that night to figure it out. It was four in the morning, and he was concerned about what we were going to do for him to achieve this. Well, I had taken out a loan from the government to pay for my studies until I was finished. It was a debt, I was willing to take for the sake of achieving an education to better our lives. J had to do the same. We were about to venture into more hardships and sacrifices to achieve one more goal from our list. We had to move again, Apollo would be starting Jr. Kindergarten at a new school. We moved back around his parents and lived in a much better apartment with two bedrooms. It seemed big for our little  family. I worked and J went to school. We were doing what we can with the income I had, and sometimes we still needed help.

J’s program ran for three years. The first two years happened so fast and just before fourth semester in his second year, we found out we were pregnant with a second baby. This was tough. It was about to get even harder financially. But the thought of being blessed with another child was everything for J and I. We were ecstatic. We knew that it was going to be difficult after she was born  but we were going to do whatever it took, as we have always done in any difficult situations we found ourselves in.

J had a couple of semesters left to complete, before we could get our lives going accordingly. It was tough being home alone most of the time to tend to the kids. I’d have the responsibility of taking Apollo to school, and picking him up after school. I’d have to tow Artemis in a stroller with me, get home do some house chores. Sometimes I’d be too exhausted to keep up with the cooking, laundry, cleaning, etc., but I’d pick-up where I’ve left off and continue. Sometimes I wonder how J and I did it. How we managed all this time to do what we had to do for our family. I don’t guarantee that there were never fights or misunderstandings. There were plenty of that to go around. But just like in everything else in life, stress is rooted from the overwhelming loads of responsibilities. Then just before J was to finish his third year, we were granted another blessing, Cassiopeia. She came, just in time for the transition of all the new changes we were about to venture into. J finished school. Honours, at that. I am so proud of what he has accomplished thus far. He has worked hard in everything. The demands were a lot, even for any other persons, but he did his best at all turns. I am so proud to be his partner through this adventure. While it was all hard and we struggled through and through, we have completed our five year goal, from the time I decided to pursue post-secondary education, to J completing his program. We had achieved a house, and a career to be proud of.

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Life isn’t easy. But if you try your best for any cause, I can guarantee you the outcome is that much sweeter. There is no good in giving up. You will fall time and time again, but if you get up, just get up, you’ll succeed in whichever way. Trust that you can, and believe that you will. It’s that important, to give yourself the chance. If it doesn’t work the first time, try again, you’ll always get an outcome. Good or bad, what have you got to lose?

 

 

 

 

 

“The starting point of any achievement is desire”

 

 

xo, MM

tomorrows sunshine

For the sake of memories. For the sake of being able to scream, and daily, confess the love for the blessings of being a mom.

For as long as I can remember, I wasn’t a celebrated child. I didn’t have birthday parties, every year, nor had one because I meant a lot to someone. I had a couple that i recall; for the sake of photos that’ll eventually find its way to my adopted father, elsewhere in the world. I wasn’t treasured, the way you treasure someone, with tangible memories like photographs, or letters, or daily blogs of confessions about how much they are loved and cared for.

I wasn’t fussed over. I wasn’t valued. I wasn’t worth enough, for anyone to claim me. I wasn’t enough, for someone to ‘keep’ me. No one cried for me. No one hurt for me. No one would have given their life for me, the way you do when you love someone so much.

Because of this…

I am one of those individuals, who flood your Facebook news feed, instagram, twitter, and tumblr, of photographs, status’, notes, and shared articles about my children; about having children; about being a mom; about the struggle of being a parent; about the chaos of marriage, and everything in between. I AM THAT INDIVIDUAL, because I want to be able to look back at the memories I’ve built with my family. I want my children to be able to find these memories when they’ve grown, and one day they’ll wonder what, who, how, why, they are who they are. It isn’t merely for the sake of bombarding others, or attempting to show I’m better than anyone, or that my family values are better than yours. I do this for me. I do this for the legacy of my family . I do this so that my children will remember to value what is most important in our family, each other. I do this so that they remember what it means to fight for those you love, to always give heart, to always be humble, to find meaning in real life, and so much more.

One day my children will have questions. One day they’ll wonder about all sorts, one day these memories will become reminders, it may bring us together when time is distant, or when our minds have found heart elsewhere. It will rekindle deeper appreciation for one another when that is lost or forgotten, it may be a light that helps redefine relationships in each of our lives, maybe it’ll help recall values, or find comfort, bring smiles, provide happy tears, but one thing for certain, it will always bind us together, always and forever.

 

xo, MM

 

Repost from Tumblr – December 23, 2015

AKMH2

I remember the first time I held you. I cried. I cried because I was so scared, my body wasn’t strong enough to keep you safe and healthy.

I had been sick a week before I had you with the worst flu. I was in the hospital on New Years Eve, alone because your Dad had to stay with your brother. No one could watch him, because everyone had been sick.

I laid in that bed, missing your Dad, and brother on the night of a new year. But I wasn’t alone, because you were there with me. Your heart was slowing down, because my fever had been so high. They had to keep me over night, so they could monitor you.

The day of your birth, the contractions effected your heart rate. They had to deliver you with help. You had a cone head, sorry. I thought the pain would never end, I felt all of it, for a much longer period of time, than with your brother. I was brainlessly not pressing the button to administer more drugs to numb my bottom half so the pain wouldn’t be so crazy. But when you came out…

The world had stopped. The tears began to fall. What I had feared, has arrived. I was afraid to have you. To have a girl. Because, everything that I am took buckets of tears, and long, lonely nights. I never wanted you to feel an ounce of it. I never want to see your heart break, because as girls, we feel more. I didn’t want to see your disappointments, because we have a harder time accepting them. I didn’t want to ever see tears fall from your eyes, because when they do, it tends to hurt more. But you were here, and I was going to have to do whatever it takes to help you become stronger than I am, help you through the toughest moments in life, because I am, your mother.

 

xo, MM

 

Repost from Tumblr -December 5, 2015

It’s really Late

I find myself most nights unable to sleep. Sleep in peace. Have peace in my mind and my heart. So much things linger in my head, as if everything is just floating in the air and I’m finding ways to relate to all of it.

I hate how my mind makes me feel. As if I’m on some constant race to figure all the meaning of life. I can put meaning to a lot of things, rarely it being true or right.

I lay there, and wonder. 

After twenty-seven years, I would hope I’m over all the sad thoughts that are so mediocre about being an adoptee. After so many years, I thought I’ve mastered not feeling, thinking, or wondering about where I began. But the truth is, as often, as I find these thoughts in the back burner, they linger, annoyingly, finding themselves tag along to “wishful wants” I see on the daily.

The truth is, the pain still sticks. The pain still catches on. The pain still wonders. 

I look at my children, and I see how loved they are. Someone who never truly understood what it means to love or to be there for anyone or for anyone to love them back. But my children, who, Isometimes, envy.

They’ll always be loved, needed, wanted, fought for, and be someone’s world.

xo, MM

 

 

Repost from Tumblr – December 5, 2015