Tuesday, April 22, 2014

Who Takes Care of the Non-Mothers?

   Some days I am fine with the fact that I will never be a mother.  Other days, it makes me sad that my parents will never be grandparents.
   Today is one of the days that I feel shitty about not being a mom.  I was thinking that I am 31 and when I was born my grandmas were in their early to mid forties.  My mom is fifty.  She should have been a grandmum by now. Unfortunately, she has a daughter who has a broken reproductive system.  The most shitty part is that my parents would be amazing grandparents.
   The thing is, I'm kind of relieved that I'm not going to be a mom because I think I would be a terrible mother.  I would like to be a good mom, but in all reality, I know that I can't be.  I wouldn't be.  I just don't have the energy to be there for someone as often as they would need.  Some days I don't even have the energy for the bare necessities.  Those are the days that I am thankful for the way life is.
   I mean, I have furry babies, but they can't take care of me when I'm on my deathbed.  I'm alienated from my family on my dad's side.  I'm not going to have anyone to take care of me when I'm old.  I mean, that's why most people have children right?   To have someone for them later in life.  I will have CW, but how can I expect him to take care of me when he'll be old too?  I just get so scared at what the future will be.
   I can't say shit to anyone about how I really feel because  seriously, what could they say?  There's nothing that can be said to make anything seem right about this situation.
   My stepson hates me.  I don't blame him.  I suck.  I said some crappy stuff about five years ago that I can't forgive myself for and I'm sure he won't forgive me either.  I get all weird hen he's around because my husband acts weird when he's around and I'm not sure if it's because of my vibe or what the fuck.  So of course, he won't be there for me when I'm an old asshole.  I wouldn't be there for me if I were him.  I mean he doesn't even think of me for mother's day or my birthday or Christmas, so why would I think he'd want to take care of me when I'm dying?
   Fucking sucks.  Days like this I curse the broken uterus and everything else in the world.  I hate it all.

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