When...

When exactly did I become such a horrible person. Was is when my sister and I were molested by moms boyfriend and we sought revenge? Was it when I was date rapped and pushed down a flight of cement stairs? Was it when I was bullied in middle school for being the fat awkward comedic kid who had her hair plucked out one by one, from the mean girls who sat behind her in class, or the when the boys threw rocks at me as I raced home on my bike? Maybe it was when my brother died in a fire and my father walked away from my sister and me - after all we were nearly grown to fend for ourselves at ages 14 and 15. Was it when poor Alex drowned in the flood at age 19 and my sister fell apart? Could it have been after a painful breakup of 13 years? Maybe when my best friend, my almost twin, died? I think we are getting close. But there is that time after her death I moved away from Oregon to So Cal to help take care of mom and my stepdad who now were in there 80’s and 90's and didn’t have Karla to help....after all Oregon was only just the perfect place to live and a perfect job. No, I’m fine, really. Time went forward and I tried so hard to be a good person. To take a wife who I loved and felt loved and needed me. And things were tense from the first year on - we are so different.....but having a home invasion and our computers and cars stolen....well, why would I be a horrible person now? Then the car stolen a second time. I thought I couldn’t take any more, but I tried so hard to keep pushing forward. Got an amazing job, kept taking care of mom, tried to figure out how to be the right wife for Nikki....but It must have been just me being evil. Who the fuck was I fooling? No one. Evan literally walked out of my life. I can’t say anything right, I’m trusted - zero. When you ask? Why I think I’ve always been bad and angry. I was a mistake pregnancy and you see I’ve been a mistake my entire life. Do I play the victim? Fuck you. Look at my fucked up life and tell me if you wouldn’t feel a victim too. I never really won, just a continued set of losing hands except for being a mommy. Those 18-20 years were my happiest of my entire life. The only good thing I had. But, then life sucked and I should have figured it out. Why would anyone want to be around this sack if shit? I know I don’t. One day I’ll be gone and then no one needs to pretend that they ever really cared

How low can I go

As depression grows deeper within my soul, so does my weight gain grow higher. Higher than its been since 2009. Not all of what I lost has returned, but a good 1/2 of it. As of this writing, I'm not really caring anymore about that. I pretty much have tossed that hope to the wind of ever being thin again. That part of my life is over, as is many aspects of me - the alive Wen - has. My skin is not a healthy tone nor does it shine. My eyes have narrowed and the puffy around them have grown wide. My smile appears much less often, and my heart has hardened; even more. I exist right now for Jason and Jordynn. Although Jason has found a gal that makes HIS smile return and he soon starts a job near our home. After Jennifer decided she wanted a divorce, she cut off everything. I didn't know she cut him off two years ago emotionally and otherwise, but then I shouldn't have known that. The 12 weeks my son came to live with us, were the best 12 weeks I've had in a long time. I had a skip to my step, as they say, and was able to see lil' bit so often! This brought me so much joy. A bandage. A comfort. A soothing. A replacement to my mind of tattered thoughts. When he found his apartment and moved on in February, a part of me felt like it was taking final breaths. Those last few that seemed blissful. I was back in my own self, in my own head, with the words that spoke to my inner being of lonely and rejection and sad. Evan is still gone. His child now 16 months, I don't when or if I'll see my grandson. Now, they are due for child #2 in a few weeks. I hear it's a girl. Tiny pieces of information from someone who is scared to tell me in fear my son will not talk to them. It's fucked up. The evil that is around him has corrupted him. But, I can't let it hurt my soul. My heart already has too many bumps and dents. So, the depression ebbs and flows, but lately just lingers. Lingers with every moment of every day. I know not what the future brings, however if it were up to me.....alas, it is not. I pray to my God ask for favor. But even God seems to turn his head. To insert plugs into his ears and not hear. To place blinders over His eyes and not see, no one, not even God is witness to my continued fall. When will this fall end? As my mother goes on in her age of late 80's, I wonder if I'll see 60. Right now.....I hope not.