People call me/I call myself Noreen.
I see myself as a mom, first and foremost. But I feel like an impostor in someone else’s life. I know I am not a hypocrite at heart, but I can put on a smile all day long, be pleasant and agreeable with strangers and friends alike. But inside I feel inadequate, and like if someone finds out what I am “really” like they are in for a big surprise. I appear perfect and confident, when actually, I get angry and judgmental like everyone else. I am so sad about things from my childhood I can never let go of. The depression and anxiety is still seen by society as “mental illness” that’s taboo…she must be crazy.
If I thought you cared and you were listening, I would tell you I cannot and don’t think I want to ever get over the loss of my mother to suicide when I was 16 yrs old. She was 41. She was so beautiful as a person and I am sure I never really knew her. She was too detached to ever even talk to me. I believe losing her at that age is what more or less defines me as a person. I want to learn more and more about what her life must have been like.
I am struggling with I am selfish in one area that is difficult for many people to understand. You see I attended a walk a year & a half ago for “Out of the Darkness” for survivors of suicide. I understand the concept is so important that society needs to bring mental illness out of the closet. But when I wanted to get involved with support groups, everyone is hell bent on “prevention of suicide”. I have no energy for that. I am interested in “survivors groups.” I want to talk with others like me, that have been “left behind”. When I lost my mother, I lost my father too, so to speak. He went on with his life. Then the crazy games just kept on rolling in. The wicked stepmother, the family that wants to act like she never lived. The siblings that can’t understand why I cant just get over it. I figured out somehow how to be a good mother to my daughters. They love me and we are very close and functional despite all odds. One just graduated college and the other is finishing her freshman year. I have an empty nest, and of course here comes menopause. I’m a mess. I wish I could trust a therapist, it just seems so sad to me to have to pay someone to listen to me. And to put all this burden on a friend, who the few friends I have, have very busy lives. I feel like I am a whiner, and should just shake it off.
Something I have been keeping a secret is too many things, I am afraid to write them. Just suffice it to say my coping skills could be better.
Also, my daughter thinks I am still going to Mass every Sunday, although I cannot bear to go alone. And I can’t stand the priest. And I think many of the parishioners are phonies.
I am trying to think positive and something I’m good at is looking for answers, always trying to find ways to put things in perspective. And hanging on to the concept that everyday we really do get a brand new start. And bad moods really do go away. Even actual depression can be treated with proper care and I am living proof.
I love peace and quiet. My home in the country, feeding and watching the birds. My husband and daughters. Looking through old photo albums, and trunks of memorabilia, (going down memory lane), candles burning, fire in the fireplace, cheesecake.
I want people to know I am still learning my way around the computer, blogs etc..so if you are kind enough to respond to me, do it in a way that’s a no brainer for me. I visit this site often, and love to read what other people write. It helps me not to feel so alone. I know my life isn’t a mess now, its the very old stuff buried way down that has decided not to stay put.
