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Matter – perhaps my last post

There really is no reason for me to be here.  If I were to kill myself, my parents would only say, “Oh no.  We have a daughter who killed herself.  What will people think of us?  But since we’ve never said anything good about her, maybe they will see we’re not to blame.  Besides, we can pretend it didn’t happen and ignore it just like we do with anything bad – if we ignore it, then it doesn’t exist.”

My sister will be thrilled because my ex-husband will be happy to let her, my sister, help in raising my daughter, which is what she, my sister, wants more than anything – to have my daughter be hers.

My son Peter is an adult and is content to live a life that is so much less than what he is capable of, but pursues because he lives with my sister and she hasn’t bothered to guide him in any other way.

My son Geoff is almost 18 and doesn’t need me anymore.  I think he’d miss me, and I’d be sorry for that.

My brothers live their lives, content to have only each other.  I think they’re fortunate to be able to live like that.

I love my children so much. I could never live without them.  But like Peter, Geoff and Jordynn (my daughter) will grow up, move out and forget I exist, as everyone has who has moved through my life.

I promised all my babies that I would never do something to make them think I didn’t love them enough to stick around.  Otherwise, I would have killed myself years ago.

I really, really want to be dead today.  I’ve cut my wrist where I knew it wouldn’t hurt me.  There wasn’t enough pain to make me feel any different.

So, to keep my promise to my kids, maybe I’ll let them lock me away in a hospital and pump me full of drugs so I can live out the rest of my life as a zombie doing fingerpainting and making puzzles of cute kittens.

But why they would bother locking me up I don’t know.

I don’t matter.  I have never mattered and I can’t see that I ever will.

All I’ve ever wanted was to matter to someone.  To be a priority, a first choice to hang out with and not a back up, to be worth enough to someone that they’d drive across the city to have a beer with me on my birthday, to have a man in my life who actually spends time with me.

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