I don't know where to turn anymore. I sometimes want to laugh about it, but I mostly want to cry. And I do. Every night.

I don't know where it went all wrong. Or what I did to deserve this.

And I don't know how to fix it.

Am I really so awful?

I'm blessed with an amazing child who is heading down the same path. And I know he doesn't deserve it. But unfortunately, he's stuck with the parent he got. Not fair to him. Not his fault.

But I'm so alone. Sure, i have people that care about me. People that love me, even. People that intend to be there. But no one to talk to. No one calls. No one has time. No one understands. No one wants to think about how it really is. No one knows. And that's okay - it isn't anyone's responsibility. I created this reality, somehow. It's my mess. I will have to deal with it.

But it hurts.

And it hurts when people say it will get better, because some of it never has gotten better over my whole life. And it hurts when people say I deserve more. Because deserving or not, there isn't more. This is it. And it hurts when people say they are there. Because they aren't. I think they mean to, but they can't be. And there is no bitterness about it. No one owes me anything. But it doesn't stop the pain.

I am alone. I don't have the "blood-is-thicker-than-water" that many people have. And I don't have the friendships I used to. That is partly my fault. I made bad choices, gave my energy to people who didn't deserve it. And life has brought much change to everyone. That is the cycle of life.

My family is my son. And that is not fair to him. Not right that he has a parent who is dependent on him for the entire connection I have to something besides self. He deserves more than that.

But I'm so alone. And it hurts so bad. And I don't know if I even want it to stop, because at least it's something. It's something that is mine. I have never been so desperate to have walls around me keeping everyone and everything out. I don't want anyone to come in, because they will only go away. I don't know why, but that is my destiny. That is my reality.

I'm not afraid, not anymore. I am weak, and nothing seems easy to me anymore. But it doesn't scare me. It just hurts. So bad that I can't see beauty like I used to, or like I should. I can't see my blessings beyond the never-ending stream of tears. I cant' make myself do what needs to be done, because it only reminds me how much I can't get done, how much I fail. I'm not afraid, but I'm so alone.

And I don't even know if I want that to change.

I know only that I want more for my son. I am petrified that even as young as he is, he is picking up on my anxiety and neurosis. He worries about things he shouldn't, because I fail in my job to keep such things from his ears and mind. I'm failing him.

So, maybe I am afraid, but only of the harm I am doing to that precious, amazing, and miraculous boy, who looks to me for everything, and gets but a tiny fraction of what he deserves.