How

There is so much emotion swirling around inside my head. I don't know what to do with it, or where to put it. The scars on my arm are still visible, though barely. The scars on my heart are invisible and so heavy. She did not have kind words. She did not have a soft voice. She did not have patience. She did not show love. She was never proud of me. She did not teach me self respect, generosity, kindness or love. She taught me that I was not acceptable, unworthy, unloved. I did not start trying to hurt myself until I was about 13, maybe 14. I thought if I was bleeding, she would help, fix, care. Instead, she yelled what the hell did you do to yourself? Stop crying like a baby, it can't hurt that bad they are only scratches. I cried from pain inside my heart, not from the blood trickling down my arm. Even blood did not make her care. I slammed my hand in the door as hard as I could trying to break it, mother's are tender and make things feel better when they are broken, she said God damn it, how the hell did you do that. I'm not taking you to the hospital. She didn't offer ice or a hug. The man (yes man who was 8 years older than the teenage girl who only wanted to someone to love her and care) I started dating when I was only a teenager was mean, he pushed me around and put me down and made me think I was wrong when I didn't want to do something he wanted me to do. He said I didn't love him when I said I wasn't ready. I gave him my heart, my innocence and still felt worthless, but I held onto the hope that someone was loving me. She did not ever, not once say you are worth more than this, better than this- never once. There is still a huge hollow void where all of the love, encouragement, pride and acceptance should be. If the one who gave me life could not fill this up, I fear I never will be able to do it myself. I struggle every day to find hope and love within myself. I am so very afraid that I am not doing it right for my own children. I want them to be strong, confident, generous, kind and caring little people. I hug them and kiss them every day. I tell them every day that I love You, you are my favorite Alex, you are my favorite Caitlin, and you are my favorite Anthony. But every once in awhile the things that haunt me come through and I lash out when they are misbehaving. I have cried myself sick for slapping one of my children while holding and trying to tell my child how sorry and how wrong Mommy is. How am I ever going to do this right when NOBODY every taught me how?

They are the only hope I have of ever filling my heart with love and joy and acceptance. Please God don't let me get it wrong.