It Hurts Not To Hurt…. or ??? Hurts to Hurt? Take Control of Your Life

Some days you feel out of control being treated like a fool. Lied to, used, hurt emotionally. Some days it doesn’t just come from one person. And I mean not just from one person out there… I mean from not just one person of the ones you love. You end up feeling like a punching bag, or a dog being kicked, when all you were doing was your job. Helping them. It hurts not to hurt. That was what it was like when I was bullimic. Now it hurts to hurt. So I have a friend who sent me this post. And I know that this is the way it should be. But on days when your best friend and son and so on bark at you when it’s their own guilt that they are throwing at you… these times are difficult to deal with. But this post I will put on my wall. I am proud that today I didn’t throw up the pain, hurt, anger, sorrow. I called my dad and ranted. And he listened. My Daddy. I know he doesn’t like to hear it, but he listened. My father. I love him so much. He doesn’t judge verbally (well sometimes, but not often) and has been a pinnacle in the life of his four daughters. So too my Mommy. But Daddy is less judgmental which makes it easier to talk to him when I don’t know where else to go. Daddy, I hope I die first because I don’t know what I would do without you!!! And to my readers – yes I am 50 and yes I still feel like child sometimes. And my parents, thank God are still here. They are my biggest blessing in the world, and so too my children.

Here is the post. I believe in myself. I love myself. I feel sad for me when people hurt me. I am my caregiver, along with my few close ones out there (like Dad). But on a daily basis, it’s me who takes care of ME. Josie, thanks for this. But where I will change the wording is I don’t need to “rock the bikini” in a way most people would imagine. I work out at 50 with sagging … ya… and having had three children… so me rocking it is me being who I am… and working out YES awesome… how I look.. if someone doesn’t like it with my aging skin and so on.. too bad… I am who I am. And although I don’t fully love my physical appearance, I accept and love it as much as I can. But I so love myself in every other aspect. I hug myself in times of crying, sadness, grief. I am my best friend. Why? Because I am and because I CAN!.

Work out

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