The alarm rings

No one knows the pain I feel....sees the hurt I hide. The tears that fall when I'm alone. I yearn for happy days so that my children may experience the joy of living, and I know that I alone need to provide that for them. So I smile and pretend that the me inside that is dying is not. But when the day is done and I close my door, the rain that pours from my soul is endless. It's difficult to remember the good that had been bestowed on me. The things that I should be grateful for. It's a dimly lit place that my heart sits in for those moments before I slip into slumber. Then the alarm rings. Time to wake and find the strength to make their life right....One day, I know I will wake to happiness again.

Tell me, please.

Make my heart stop aching.........The daily struggle of motivating, encouraging, instructing has taken over. What do you need? What haven't I given you? If it's love, you know you are loved. It is spoken, it is revealed. What more can I do? Is it support? How much more can I give you when my life revolves around your needs and wants? Tell me, please......How do I get through to you? I see you wasting your talents and intelligence everyday and it pains me. I try to be that positive influence in your life but it's so difficult when there is no response. You want me to trust you, but you haven't shown that you can be trusted. You want me to praise you, but have not shown anything worthy of praise. I don't know what to do anymore. Please, make my heart stop aching.

Crying Inside

Am I less than myself if I am not the responsible one that everyone thinks I am? The one who reaches the goals against all odds. The girl who has it all together when things are falling apart around her? The fixer.....The doer....The giver. Why am I thought to be less than myself when I don't do what's expected? Who told you to put me on that pedestal? Did I ask you to think more of me than the next? Is it my fault that I have always come through even when the obstacles made it seem impossible?

Allow me the freedom to fall, do the unexpected, live and smile because I want to. Let me sleep in, let the laundry pile up, not care for just a little while. What? That's irresponsible? It's unlike me? Something must be wrong? Well yeah, you're right! While you building your expectations of me and telling how great I am, I was crying inside; wanting to be held......wanting someone else to care for a change. But that's not me, right?

Unsettled

I feel as if I haven't arrived yet. Always yearning; wanting; waiting. What am I in need of? What is it that will put my soul at ease, my heart to rest? Unsettled.

The Giver

Is my sole purpose in life to please others? Make everyone happy without regard for my own needs. Is that selfish of me? Selfish to hope beyond hope that someone would think of me before themselves. Selfish that for once I might be offered a gesture of unconditional love. I often question if I give of myself enough; too much. Do I push away the people I love because I want to be there for them? I tell myself not to expect of others, never get my hopes up, don't ask for anything. I do this to avoid the heartbreak that comes with let downs and broken promises. But I still feel the pain. The pain of always trying to not look forward to anything. The burden of secretly wanting. The wish that I could just come out and ask for something without the fear of rejection. In my dreams I receive as much as I give, I am loved as much as I share love, I am a priority rather than an option. When I awake, I am once again The Giver.......

Strength

Nothing can bring a good woman down but herself........

Secrets, lies, hidden selves

How do people do it? Secrets, lies, hidden selves.....I never really understood it. I've heard about it but never agreed with it. I've tried it and couldn't do it. I cannot be untrue. My heart is true; pure for those whom I share it with. I have an immense capacity to love those whom I open my heart to. No more secrets, no more lies, no more hiding who I am. This is me. I stand before you with my heart open. It's risky; not a risk that I've been willing to take for a very long time, but I find myself willing to take it for you. Some may call me foolish, but they never walked in my shoes. They never endured the pain that I've known for far too long. They will never understand the joy you bring me. You, the one that my heart now beats for.