The woman I used to know

I’m trying my damnedest to find the old me. The me that wouldn’t put up with the bullshit he puts me through. The me that used to laugh at damn near everything, the one you’d rarely catch with a frown on her face. Today, if you were to ask me to describe the positive things about myself, I would more than likely be at a loss for words. The only good things I can say about myself is that I’m driven to be the best mother I can be, and that my kids are the best part about me. At what point did I lose myself, my vision, my aspirations, my hope, my faith? At what point did I become this person, this monster?

At times I hate myself more than anything for the simple fact that I honestly have no idea who I am. I mean don’t get me wrong, most people don’t know who they really are because that’s part of the point of life right, self-discovery? I don’t mean that I haven’t been able to discover who I am. What I mean is the person I worked 20 1/4 years to find out about…changed. The worst part is I could feel myself changing in the beginning but found that I was, like a fein, addicted to the change, to the lust, to the difference. It began with the hanging out with my “friends” drinking and partying because after having Jadae, working 5 days or more a week 8-16 hour shifts at a mental health facility for mentally disturbed men who have committed sex crimes – I needed a break from my reality. I became somewhat addicted to alcohol. Not the alcohol itself, I didn’t need it. I honestly don’t really like drinking to often, every now and then is fine – once a year would be fine by me. I became addicted with the feeling, being able to block out my reality. The reality of being a 20 year old, single and separated (wanting so badly to be divorce since I was abandoned) mother of a young infant; wanting so badly to be able to provide my child with the family that she deserved, not being able to since her father walked out on us, on our marriage, and on Jadae when I was just 3 months pregnant with her.

I feel like a failure. I have not accomplished anything in life I set out to, with the exception of my children. Who am I? I don’t know. I can describe to you many things about me: my likes, dislikes, fears, ect… but that’s all it will ever be, things about me, Not who I am.

Maybe one day I’ll find that woman that I fell in love with long ago, her name is JaShawndra, she used to be me. If you see her, tell her I miss her


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