Yes, I'm angry. Still. There is a lot of it still there. Resentment that people who can't take care of their kids can have them, and I couldn't.
Resentment that I lived a good life and my prayers went unanswered month after month.
Anger that no matter what I did my body still rejected me.
Anger that I let careless remarks tear at my soul.
Anger that I have let myself feel like less of a woman because of it. I have built a wall around me, figuratively and literally.
There is resentment that I felt abandoned many times. I was on a very lonely journey, and few came along with me.
I am angry that I failed as a mother. I am angry that I was set up for failure, that I wasnt worth the truth. I am angry that I opened my heart, and in return had it ripped out of my chest and trampled. I'm angry that I diverted resources and love away from my beloved son.
I'm angry I invested my heart and soul into someone who didn't care. I'm angry I got played, by both teen and the adults who I thought had her-and my-best interests in mind. I'm angry that clearing a case file was more important than damaging a family.
There is so much that I turned inward because my support network was stretched to it's limits, and I'm paying the price now. I let it take root in my life.
This bitterness is starting to consume me, and I can't live with it. It needs to be released and I need to move on. I can't heal with this anger eating away like an ulcer. It's not fatal, but it seriously impacts my life. It hurts and it limits. Its time to heal.
