Sleepless

The light is shining in through the windows.  I haven't slept.  I can't sleep.  All the words I wish I had the guts to say are going through my head like thousands of frantic pin balls, bouncing off each other and slamming into the walls of my brain. I want to stop thinking. I want to close my eyes and rest. I can't. When the thoughts start to slow down, the tears start falling. I know I only feel part of the pain that's really there. Last week I couldn't hold it together for more than an hour at a time. Now I only cry a few times each day and then it's for less than 3 minutes. The medication works. I doubt that it's good for me to block out my feelings but what I think doesn't really matter.  Dad tries everyday to make me laugh. I feel bad for him because I just can't.  I try to fake it but he knows it's not real. I don't really care that I can't laugh.  I just feel bad for Dad.  I will never be happy again, I know that and I accept it.  It hurts Dad though and I wish it didn't.  He thinks laughter is the best medicine and I'm sure it's true.  But I don't deserve to laugh or be happy.  Any mother who abandons her child deserves to be miserable forever.  I've struggled with suicidal thoughts for as long as I can remember. I don't want to die now.  I hope I live a very long life so I can wake up everyday knowing how worthless I am.  An incubator.  Just like my mother.  I can see it on my sibling's faces, everyone knows that I'm no good.  And that's good.  I deserve that.  I deserve all of this.  I never thought I would do to my kids what Lynda did to me.  I disgust myself.