when did I become such a cold unfeeling person? did it start from birth? Born without parents. Given up. Adopted. Why and how could I be so cold? Just watching a show on PBS about undertakers and feeling more for the people I do not know...the child...the old lady...than I did for my own. My own mother, my father, my husband. I was never with him to see him through 'the process.' I have no idea what they did to him or for him or if they were ever reverenced towards him. How could I just leave him like that? My mother. I am glad I was with her when she died. Even Carroll, when he died. To walk them both through the place to go meet with Jesus. But, then, what after? I abandoned both of them to 'just get it over with.' Enough hassle, enough pain. But, who will sit with me? Who will care when I go? Who will watch with me? ? Karma says, no one. I'll take it on my own, like everything else. This sucks.

Can I possibly? ow

Get much lower? Much more depressed than I am right now? 12/26/11. Still allowing the bullshit of the problem to percolate around my brain. I am so depressed and I am so trying to hang onto what I know is the truth. The devil is on me hard...If God doesn't give you any more than you can handle at one time, then I should be just fine. But, I think the problem, or part of my problem, is that I am allowing all of the bullshit to percolate around my brain all at the same time. Here's the facts. I am a loser. I was born a loser, I grew up a loser, I had children whom I had no idea how not to turn into losers, but who have, thankfully, prooved me wrong on that one...beauties. But, lets' continue on with me, shall we? Every fucking loser that came along, I attached myself too. Here and there, there were a couple of good guys who I certainly got rid of very quickly with no fanfare. Back to the losers. How much can a girl stand? Really???? Adopted at birth, for whatever reason besides being unwanted. Abused, beaten, sexually abused. Nice. It's all so good. It all set me up so well for a lifetime of nothing but failure. Couldn't someone, just someone, believed in me? Couldn't someone, just one person, known what was happening to me? Stop the madness??? the insanity????? And, now, here I am at 60. A fucking full blown unemployed, with no one to help me, loser of the first degreee. Can't drive, have no idea where I'm going...STILL. All these fucking years later. All these fucking years later. And, so, God has provided me to weather through this storm. Great. I really could use his arms around me and holding me and rocking me and assuring me that it really is gonna be ok, cause all I see is no license, no way to get around, tons of money to pay, and lots of tricks to do for a system that can't manage to get the bad guys... whatever. I was wrong and I will pay. More than any other person has paid. What the fuck ever. Thanks for the memories. And thanks for all the support.

What a loser I am...well, not really...

I guess I can't really say that since it will negate all the positive thinking I'm supposed to be doing...

anyway. Here we are. Today's um, not regret, but disappointment is related to cooking. My craft, my job for the past five freakin' years, and I'm thinking about it today and feeling sorry that I never got to cook with a mother or a grandmother. All these memoirs I read, all these 'old country' recipes, authors and chefs connected to someone other than themselves who taught them cooking or a love of cooking. Standing in the kitchen next to grandma, or mom; not me. I attempted cooking by myself at a very young age. I remember I was making muffins? Coffee cake??? something that required the gas oven which I obviously did not know how to light. I found that out when the damn oven blew up in my face, singing my eyebrows and torching all the hair off of my arms...Trying to make something for Mom on Mother's day without the slightest idea how to light a damn oven.

So now, in my adult life, I'm a cook, or was a cook since the fucking restaurant has gone out of business due to the gross ineptitude of the owners, and I'm feeling like I'm a cook without passion.

I find myself analyzing everything to do with every part of my life with nothing coming out of that analyzing but regret. Starting with birth and a mother who didn't want me. Then to the adoptive family where I was half of the 'rich man's family' of a boy and a girl. The boy getting all the goodies and attention and me getting brutalized by an Irish mother who thought it was acceptable to beat her children. The father who was just trying to get by and avoid any confrontation with the angry woman he married...Progress right into sexual abuse by 'Uncle Frank.' The sick pervert that my parents had no idea was molesting me on a regular basis while his son molested my adoptive brother on a regular basis, turning him into a gay blade in his adult life. But, that's a whole other story because I haven't seen or heard from brother John since the house in Nutley was sold back in 1997.

So now at the crossroads of finally being done that fucking five years of wasted time with those idiots of Rotten Ralph's and feeling like I've just divorced another loser husband, what do I do now? I'm 60 damn years old for petes sake. More line cooking? All hours of the day and night including overtime??? Let the job hunting begin.

My only saving grace in all of this is my God. I truly believe with all my heart, that my God, my Father, my Abba, will show me the way, will bless me richly when it's time to be blessed and will see me through this mess. Oh, yeah, lets' not forget the drunk driving arrest. Nice goin' Lynn...Guess you didn't know better than to sit at the freakin' restaurant I've been wanting out of for so long, and drink yourself too much rum while being in a state of exhaustion getting into a car wanting to just go home...nice goin'.