Does anyone even read this?

 I doubt anyone does. But I write in it every now and then, taking breaks years at a time.  The most interesting times of my life are the ones when I don't write in anything in here. Trust me on that one. The years when I struggle the most with life, with my worth, with my addictions, with my mental illnesses. Honestly, the times of my life when I have a little too much party in my system. 

But I don't document them in my blog just in case someone might actually read this one day. I have a lot of memories. Good ones actually. I had lots of fun. But I suffer from guilt because I hurt those I loved the most while I was having that fun. In some cases irreparably. Nobody remembers the many, many years that I sacrificed everything for everybody else. They just remember the couple years that I went off the rails to have fun for myself for once. Maybe it was out of control fun. I should have controlled myself better but I felt better than I had in my life!

I'll tell you what. For so long I've been living in a shell taking care of my kids at home ( and loving it) and taking care of patients at work( and loving it) . But I remained withdrawn staying "good" and proper for years hiding my drug problem. Then all at once My drug problem landed me with an arrest and in low wage jobs struggling to scrounge for quarters for gas and milk for the kids, getting evicted time after time because we couldn't afford rent. For the first time we had to live the poor life. And we lived that way for five years. Moving numerous times, moving the kids from school to school, living with family, living in hotels, almost living in the car. We very narrowly avoided that fate. 

I learned that poor people hang with other poor people. We hang together. And poor people are less judgy cause we've all been through some shit. Even now I'm careful who at work I tell about my past. In the nursing field the nurses and the LNAs  haven't been poor. They have their heads on straight or they wouldn't be in that field.

I feel a comfort around other poors that I don't have around other people. I'm not a good wholesome person. I feel like I have to put on an act around some people or they might see right through me and realize what I'm really all about. 

Anyway. The point is before I got way off track is that Ive been taking care of other people for so damn long and when I took care of myself for awhile suddenly I'm a horrible person. Maybe it was because it involved lots of sex and drugs. But honestly it was a good time. I met some great guys. Maybe that's why I feel so rotten. I feel like I should feel bad but I don't. I liked it. Ill live once. 

Anyway thats enough rambling nonsense for one day.