I don't know what is wrong with me. Now, aged 60, I guess I still have some curiosity about it, but I don't really want to know any more. It won't help now. I'm too old and too sad? tired? something like that, to fix whatever it is now.

But, I think there has to be some reason your Grandmother and Father would rip you apart as a child. No one would just randomly stomp on every least thing about a child and make them feel so awful about who they are, what they are? I have wondered if I were somehow something else entirely.

It's not just a kid thinking they're hard done by. Whatever the wrongness has been, I've carried it with me all my life. At this point I can say all my friends are ghosts and it is literally true. Two are actually deceased, the rest have all ghosted me over 50+ years. Even the most recent, who I said would ghost me (she said she wouldn't do something like that) but she did. I've waited hours for friends to show up, who never did again. No explanation, no clue what it was about. I think they found the wrongness I've never understood and they left, ghosting even before it became a verb.

I never had a real boyfriend. I tried. I asked men out on dates, they didn't show up. Or there was one date only with those who only wanted sex and that was just because I didn't co-operate and let myself be fucked by someone who didn't know me. Really, how far different is that from a rape, just less violence? Maybe that's too much to say, assume. But, I've been molested, so I'm not untouched by that either.

I did have a husband, for just over a year. He said he was my friend when we wrote as penpals at the age of 14. Later he said he loved me. Even twenty years after the divorce I thought he had at least been faithful, that much of a friend, someone who cared about me. I was wrong. That was a hard blow, in an email without apology. It wasn't a letter to a friend. I think he began ghosting me during the first few months we were married, but I didn't know. I did think he liked me, finally at the age of 30 or so, someone liked me enough to still consider myself a friend. I misled myself, or was misled? I don't know and its in the past, not to be repeated. I won't try it again.

So here I am at age 60. Not a spinster, but childless. I didn't think I would be in this sort of life. I thought I would have a 'normal' life with a family, children and husband, a career of some kind, a home to live in and feel at home in. I look after my Mom, in her house, we drive around in her car. Mom cares about me. I help Mom, I've helped family and others. At the end of my life that's all there will be. But, whatever was wrong with me will be gone along with me. I can't think I've passed it on to anyone else. Hard to be sure when I don't know what has always been so wrong with me.

I'd like to be a different person. But, I don't know how when the results are always the same. I feel inferior to everyone. I feel people see whatever is wrong with me and I have no idea how to hide it. I try. I try to be a good person. I try to be kind and nice. Even though I don't think that's really who I would be if I were not trying so hard to hide whatever is wrong with me. In the end it doesn't matter, time is running along and I can't stand still/ untouched in it.

If there is a heaven of some kind, I believe more in reincarnation, like recycling as the Earth tends to do. But, if we get a heaven, I hope I can be myself but able to live a real life, without carrying around this wrongness that has carved such a miserable hole in my life here. I'd like to see and know who I could have been, if there weren't something so wrong with me.

I'll say Good bye here. But, I'm not popping off. I'm staying, waiting each day until the last day. I can just keep to myself mostly, not attracting attention to whatever is wrong with me, or bothering anyone. It's so much easier to just be alone.

Following instructions is hard. I like getting lost and finding my own way. You never know what you find along the way.

In all my time thinking I would have a husband, I never thought I would have an ex-husband.

In the morning I wake up with the wreckage of yesterday, all my yesterdays, around me.

In one corner of my mind, a dusty corner, I can see a place where its tidy, there is just enough, rather than an overabundance. I've cleared away the burdens, the tasks to be done, the responsibilities I didn't ask for, the promises I thought I owed to myself. Life in that corner is uncluttered. Each morning I set about completing things, continuing things and there is nothing holding me back, nothing to feel trapped by or disappointed about myself.

But, I don't live in that corner. I step carefully in the room where I can't really see the corners and I avoid hurting myself. Physically, by stepping carefully around the floor and the obstacle course I've created. Mentally, by keeping everything, as much as I can, safe with me in this room. Its not who I am, its who I have become.

I am soon to be 60 and not particularly feeling social and yet I am now and then at the odd moment. Not quite sure how that works. I look after my Mother full time, she is 80 and still mostly doing for herself but not able to walk and get errands and every day things done as she used to. Although its terrible to say, she is narcissistic and I've become what they call (I think) a grey rock. 

I got the membership/pass for the Barrie bus, the one that picks people up at their home. But, I haven't used it yet. I planned to go mall walking for exercise. But, between not wanting to go out and be around people much and then dealing with my Mother I just am not getting out for anything of my own interests. I used to have a lot of interests and I still do but most of them are gathering dust on shelves or have been thrown out by family who say I'm a hoarder. I feel more that I am hanging on than hoarding. 

Anyway, I thought a virtual online thing would be a start. I could just listen or participate here and there but still be doing something, sort of at my own pace. I must sound like a shut in lunatic but I don't feel that way. No doubt this is far, far, far more than you need to know. I don't talk much but I love to write. :)