People don't realize when I say if "I didn't have Marleigh, that I wouldn't still be here", it's not sad or for attention. It's fact. There isn't a single thing that pulls me through my days other than that little girl. It's my way of saying, in all of my darkness, I have found strength.
Honestly, it shouldn't matter what my reason is, rather that I have found a reason.
This little blonde haired, blue-eyed baby who lays sleeping across from me. She saves me everyday in ways that I hope she never understands. I never want her to feel the pain I feel, or to the extent that I feel it. I want my daughter to have more than one reason to keep going, I want my daughter to love life. I don't, and quite realistically, I can't. I was dealt one too many "bad hands", and although I love my daughter, and I keep going, I can't say that I enjoy life. However, even though it may seem hypocritical, I want her to see the good in things, the good in people- to an extent.
I do believe in teaching my daughter she needs to be guarded and that trust needs to be earned- not everyone is who they say they are, and not everyone is a good person. We live in a very dark, scary world, that seems to worsen daily. I want her to be a realist with the world, and the people in it, but I don't want her to lose her shine. I want her to know she will ALWAYS have someone no matter how much it feels like she's alone. I want my daughter to thrive, although she's being raised by an extremely broken mother.
You see, I was never taught to love and I'm not really sure that before Marleigh, if I could even begin to tell you what true love felt like- with one exception being my Mimi, of course. I guess my point is with all of this, I'm terrified that with as broken as I am, I'm going to end up giving my daughter a childhood in which she can never recover from.
Although, I can't blame my childhood for every bad thing in my life, it certainly was the foundation on which my "fight or flight" was built. It is the very reason that I don't believe anyone could ever possibly truly love me... I mean hell, if your parents can't love you, who can? If I wasn't good enough for my own father, what man would I ever be enough for?
I feel my love for my daughter, it's instinct. It wasn't a choice. I'm thankful for that. Although in the same breath, I wonder what was so wrong with me that loving me became choice and not instinct, especially for my father?
How can a child not be enough for their parent?
How could you possibly want to keep harming yourself when you know it hurts them?
How could you not do everything in your power to keep them from hurting?
I don't want this to be my daughter's future, and I'm so relieved that as I struggle on my bad days, right now she is too young to understand. She doesn't know the hurt, or why- and she doesn't need too. She doesn't know she has saved me countless times. I can lay here crying, wishing I were dead... yet I hear "Mommy?" and I know I could never do that to her. Though, most days I feel like she would be better off without me, I also know that she needs me. She needs me to make sure she doesn't have this battle. She needs me to try my damnedest to make sure she NEVER feels alone.
I never want my daughter to stare into a mirror, begging herself to just be strong. I want her to know I'm here and though I may be broken, and my love is not without flaws, I love her- and her life matters. She matters.
She is why I need to get better. I need to stop just living with it and go do the things I need to do to learn to cope. I wouldn't dare put the weight on her shoulders to know she's what keeps me alive, that's a burden too big for a little girl. Though she will know- she saved me. She saves me everyday.
I guess what I'm trying to say is, my story isn't over yet- our story has just begun.