Yesterday I thought I was strong enough to call my mother. I thought that I was strong enough to battle her depression and my own frustrations. I wasn't. I wish I had the strength to carry everyone I loved on my shoulders. Sometimes I wish I could cash them in for a set with less needs and issues, then I feel guilty. I love them and I know they love me but sometimes it's so hard to be a part of this family. It's. Just. So. Hard.

Drinking is sweet release and that scares me a bit. I don't want to go the way so many of my family has gone, seeking asylum in a bottle. Seriously, I don't think that could ever be me. I will never allow myself to become THAT person. I've spent to many years of my life running from that life. My dream has been to create a life that has peace. No more days dreading the night and what it may bring. No more sleeping in parked cars huddled next to those that I love because we can't go home.

Lately I've been having yearnings that I don't think are maternal but maybe they are. The yearnings are to nest. To find a house and make it a home. I'd be satisfied with just Jason and I as family if that is all that comes. But, I need a home. Perhaps on some level this IS maternal this need to nest and create roots. It's just that I've spent so much of my life wandering and I'm tired. I'm so so tired.