Yesterday I wrote about my feelings about love and how unlovable I feel. I didn't write it to have myself a little pity part nor was I looking for sympathy. I create most of my own problems and I realize that.
I wrote it because (well I write a lot of things) because I think others read it and think that they aren't alone in their own feelings. Sometimes it is better when you don't feel so alone.
We all have our insecurities and fears. We also have our own little glory moments and grand occasions.
This is life.
Life has struggles and life has people who just plain suck in it. Life is funny that way.
I often wonder if around this time of year it is just harder for me. The anniversary of my mom's death is right around the corner. I think that it gets harder every year,
You know, the last thing I said to her ever was "I love you". I meant it. I called her on the day she died while she was being transferred to a bigger hospital.
You know, the last thing she said to me ever was "I love you too."
That is pretty significant.
As much as that woman drive me insane some times, I loved her (well, I still love her). She is my mom. She will always be my mom.
I gets hard when she isn't around when life is kicking my ass. As my sister says, "Mom always made it better."
My sister is right.
Anyway, I often think about that person who sends me anonymous notes in the mail. Why does this person do that? I also think about whether if it is because I write about my feelings and issues and they just seem to have their opinions.
No matter what, I will continue to write.
It is almost like therapy for me. I sometimes refer to it as "mind dumping". I dump out what is in my head onto the screen and hit share.
Well, this seems to be enough rambling for now. I am tired and tomorrow is yet another day.
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