Hard life lessons learned

Alot weighing on me. I stay off here. Because honestly, it's toxic. I realized I said I would not stay silent...And, I did, again...And I found this...I said I would never be silent again....yet... for many years I have.... This was in my drafts-----

Learning to let go of what you thought life would be. Life, to some is clearly cut into categorization of black and white…. however, my world has always had shades of gray. It had to be for my survival. I realize now that most do not want, nor do they care to understand that.

I ask myself constantly, where did I go wrong? I am not the best, but who is? Was I the worst? I think it is stretching it, but possibly, to those I am. However, I still believe there are bonds that don’t get broken so easily. Right?

 I survived the most hellacious event of my life, watching my own mother take her last breath...I know I am broken by my past, but can you give a girl a break?

I have to respect myself enough to let go. Literally, figuratively, and spiritually.  When those that you love to the core of who you are, and would give everything and anything for, do nothing but, turn their noses up, and cut you off, I have to decide. They, in my mind, have already made their choice. I need to wake up.

No matter what I do, accomplish, say, etc. It doesn't matter anymore. That option was taken against my will a long time ago. No matter what I do or say, it will always be clouded by a bigger voice than mine. I can’t compete, and I am making the choice not to. I shouldn't have to.

They will never respect me. That. Is their choice. I have to move on. I am making the choice not to chase after those that are too busy being pissed off (pardon my language) to get anywhere. I see that now. It’s a harsh reality when they are all I have/had in this life.

It is such a waste of life. I guess some of us get the “aha” moment when that person is already gone. However, most never will. I am grateful that I owned what I did when my grandma was dying. I wish I would have tried to address it early on, however, my pride, and the fact that she never said she was sorry for all the pain and heartache she caused me....pride.  Everyone has a story. We either choose to listen to it, or be selfish and self-centered and ignore it. But, that was not the point. I had to own my junk. Period. And, no matter what I endured. She was still MY grandma. My family. All I had.

Pride. Believing you have every right and reason to be hateful and stand on your soapbox… serves you well, eh? But who am I saying anything to? I am at that approaching age now, where I don’t know how much more life I have left. Not even trying to be morbid, but it is reality. I just have to pray to God, that I am doing the best I can with the rest of the life I have left, and pray I live forever with Him in the next.

Reality.

Love much. Forgive more. Give grace even when you don’t want to.

In Him,

April