Will I ever

win?

She asked,

 

as the melancholy settled in.

I don’t know what I did.

I feel as though I’m lost within.

 Maybe it is just today. Maybe I woke up in a funk. Again. I don’t think so though. I feel it creeping up. How long am I going to have to sustain this? I feel as if I’m not getting anywhere, as if nothing is ever going to change for me. It is always going to be this solitary struggle, this battle to always keep up and do and do and do. I have to make my own happiness, it will never be handed to me on a platter. But the world is wonderful and I have sweet friends. The more goodness I put out there the more it comes back to me. I know this, I love it. I’m trying to bask, but lately I’m having a lot of difficulty.

I’m exhausted. Internally. Again.

I want to cry, for no good reason, other than just to let it all go. Let out this unhappiness welling up inside.

I don’t even know if it is mine.

But I’m pretty sure it is.

 

I help others to help myself.

 

Because everyone needs love, unexpected, unconditional, unbiased, non-judgmental love. Everyone needs wordless hugs. Hugs that are unrequested. Enveloping. All wonderful. I try to give out as many of those as I can. To tell people how wonderful they are, so they know it, unexpectedly. I notice haircuts, new shirts, new shoes, little things.

 

It is the little things that count.

 

I listen. Without criticism. So it can all come out.

 

And don’t get me wrong, I’m not complaining. I’m just not feeling very good lately.

 

I’m hurt. I’m sad to be ignored and insulted. I’ll never be good enough. I’m tired of always being the other woman. Always. Always. I just don’t feel good enough. I don’t feel good enough for myself. I don’t really like myself at all lately, which is silly, because I don’t know what I don’t like, but I just don’t like her. I don’t really love her either.

 

I see everyone progressing, moving along, moving forward, growing, finding happiness, falling out of happiness, you know, whatever, they are just doing their thing. And it is all wonderful and it makes me so happy to see them in motion. To watch them succeed after their struggles. To know that it does work out and all of the encouragement and support I have provided has not been in vain.

But what am I doing?

 I realize I do many things, I am constantly in motion. Constantly doing something or going through something. I get it. I know. This is my life.

 

And it isn’t like I don’t like my life. I do. I well up with love every time I look at my children. I cuddle my kitten and cats and sometimes even the dog. I watch my frogs. I kiss my flowers. I have everything I need.

 

I’m not sour or sore about the things that I don’t have. I’ve let go of my dreams. Less to be disappointed over. I’ve settled into the reality of being a spinster. I don’t even want a boyfriend anymore. But I cry when I see babies. I feel like my baby days are done and I will never get another chance. And I already let that go. I don’t know why it makes me so sad. Because it is a soul wound, that’s probably why. It’s a travesty against my ultimate happiness. I’m a natural caregiver and I thrive. Just in this lifetime I have no more room to grow.

 

Maybe that’s what I’m feeling, is the lack of a dream. The loss of something to plot forward towards.

 

I feel like I am stuck in muck.

I keep trying and working hard and boy do I work and keep busy. But for what. For what? I don’t make enough to do anything with. I have no stability other than that which I create and sustain. No end goal in sight. No help with anything. I’m stuck in this mode to survive, constantly cycling through moods of my own. The only thing that has changed is me. I’m not getting anywhere. I’m suspended in motion. Never free.

I’m intriguing and interesting and never enough. I’m never enough. I’m never good enough. I never make enough or do enough or rest enough or I’m just never enough. I will always be the other woman, never good enough to be the only one. I’m never going to win against the constant heartbreak I encounter. Because I keep loving, my heart can’t control that. But I never win. I never ever win. Ever. I don’t want to play anymore at all. Ever.

I feel like I’ve forgotten a lot and the more I forget the less I miss, because I just don’t remember how good some things are. I wish I could forget it all.

 And that’s okay. It is all okay. It is all as it should be.

 I’m supposed to be strong. That’s the creed of the single mother. To be strong. Isn’t it great how strong I can be, supporting my whole world on only my work and will and effort and everything. Look how many other people I can support and sustain and look how well the world works when I put my love and effort into it. Look how strong I am, whoopdidoo. What kind of a prize do I win? Oh yeah, the ability to handle even tougher nonsense. Look how big and brawny my muscles are. Aren’t I strong. Who cares really? And what does it matter anyhow…

 And now I’m super weird too. I’m just being me. And she’s a weirdo. What else is new.

 And I have come to realize, that no one will ever support me. No one will ever love me unconditionally, non judgmentally, overwhelmingly. It’s not going to happen. No one is going to swoop in to take care of me, no matter how much of a wonderful sweet kind woman I strive to be. No one ever has. I wouldn’t even recognize it if it did appear.

 All I have are my friends, who repay the unconditional love and care I give to them with tokens back. It helps to keep the well wet I suppose. So I’m not entirely dry and empty. I am thankful. I do not want to fall into anyone’s debt though, I’d rather be the first to give and to always be giving than have any debt of love to owe.

 But it all isn’t enough. It just isn’t. I know this. I feel it. I don’t know what I’m supposed to do with it, about it. I don’t think that there is anything I can do. I’m doing everything I can do just to keep up and get by and enjoy the process. I do enjoy the process, I have lot of fun and I am happy and I do lots of things to feel great. I love helping other people and I do that.

 

But lately again my heart hurts. And all I want to do is cry.

 

I don’t know why.