2024, hm that came fast. I don’t remember anything. I still feel like I’m dreaming, it’s very eerie giving birth to a life for 2 years to not feel real, of course a part of me is mom, my daughter has everything she needs and she is my top priority, above myself. I traded, 2 years ago, I was in the middle of drowning, I still am, I had just left my mom’s house running away from home, thinking he was my sanctuary. Moved into this house thinking I was welcomed, I am so stubborn and gullible, I think that’s the trauma child in me begging for safety. I can withstand any abuse and think it’s a form of love and know it’s abuse. Family. Family is a stupid thing. Blood is *****. But the love for my daughter is the purest form, I will never let her hurt like I did. I beg that the love I have with her father is real, and the old-fashioned tyrant of a Jehovah witness mother in law whose values and reality completely disobey the values of her religion ends and a peace washes over this house. The strength to become a mother comes within the strength of your will to become the best version of yourself for yourself, for that inner child. I’m healing my childhood with my daughters giving her everything I never did, my partner on the other hand grew up shielded from family and culture never experiencing holidays, or birthdays. I grew up being abused at my birthday parties but hey at least I had a party. Trauma is not biased. It doesn’t care who you are or where you come from. It’s ******. As result of his upbringing along with being the youngest of two brothers with a 20 year age difference those brothers had addictions, he was kept in the room most of the time in front of a tv trying being told to increase the volume on the tv to mutter out the yelling. I on the other hand used to take care of all my cousins while the yelling happened I was the protector my partner was the protected. His father passed when he was young so that idol and influence was only left to those brothers, raising my own brother I know what a lack of a male role model does to the prepubescent brain of a 11 year old boy. Trauma, it’s ******. The dynamic of the household is everyone to themselves and its very toxic, it’s sad, my caring personality put me here cause I see that they need to be saved, the trials that my spouse has put me through has made me want to give up on this till this day, I have my doubts if he has actually changed. Some people say people don’t change and I hope that this new chapter is growth and actual progress. I want it to be genuine, at the end of the day I want to be with a person I can fully be myself with and vice versa. The trust issues are there, but ******* I have issues, I feel like I’m crazy sometimes, I don’t understand how simple my requests for life can be, for them to prove to be so **** difficult, how can I read back on a poem from 2 years ago and still feel the same way? It’s eerie. If you got to this sentence, then you’ll be intrigued by the next update. I can only write so much.