I've had a couple of people ask why I don't mention the kids more often in this blog. The form of this question has ranged from "So why don't you mention the kids?" to "Yeah you must care SO MUCH about them since you never talk about them."

Here is my response:

My children. My reason for living. The whole of my heart. The apples of my eyes. They are NEVER, I repeat NEVER out of my thoughts. There are images I can't look at, words I can't say, songs I can't hear, movies & shows I can't watch because to do so will bring a million memories flooding back so strongly that I very well might drown in my own tears. My children are constantly at the forefront of my mind in a myriad of ways. When will I see them again? When I get back will I be ALLOWED to see them again? Are they sick? Are they crying? Do they miss me? Do they remember what I look like? Do they remember how I smell the way I remember their smells? Do they even want Mommy since she's been gone for 4 months? Do they even need me? How can I make them need me? I don't want to MAKE them need me, I just want them to need me. What if it's too late? What if my previous bad decisions created enough BS karma for this to be completely justified? What if I really AM a broken type of robot & can't support myself, much less them? What if I'm not good enough to be their mother? WHAT IF I'M NOT GOOD ENOUGH TO BE THEIR MOTHER? WHAT IF I'M NOT GOOD ENOUGH TO BE THEIR MOTHER? WHAT IF I'M NOT GOOD ENOUGH TO BE THEIR MOTHER?

All day. Every day. Ad nauseum.

I have found very few things that can actually draw me out of my ball of self-pity & woe long enough to stop crying & put on a happy face for a while. Save for this blog, FB is my happy face. I have a rant on there that I doubt anyone has read, but that's about it. I was crushed yesterday when I found out my good online/fet buddy Azrael had lost control of his truck & departed this world, likely flipping us the bird as he went. But you only saw a modicum of the crying I did for a person I'd never even met face to face. I have a half-finished cthulhu beanie that I was going to trade him for nipple piercings. In the minds of many, this does not amount to a lasting friendship, but that didn't matter to my feelings. I fucking SOBBED. WEPT. CRIED MY HEART OUT over a man that I had only ever spoken to on the phone & chatted with online.

Now, how do you think that could apply to 2 of the most perfect creatures on the planet, who I carried for 9 months, birthed, raised, supported, love unconditionally, & have now been separated from simply because, in the words of their father, "It's my time now" completely overlooking the fact that he never once offered to support them on his own. Overlooking the fact that he wanted the divorce, & that I was their primary caregiver in ALL OF THE WAYS.

Can you imagine how talking about them at any length possibly makes me feel?