I’m feeling like a lost puppy today, roaming and rambling, looking for my home. I know that where I am at is home now but sometimes I just don’t feel grounded here. It is all because I’m dealing with the loss of my family. How can can my family not want me? Why will they not accept me for me and get to know the real me? Why don’t they even care enough about me to at least listen to me? I don’t expect them to change, but it would have made a world of difference to me, for them to have just care enough to listen and hear me. It doesn’t mean that anything would have to change, just that they listened to me. It would have changed a lot for me and made a lot of what I am dealing with much more bearable. They just don’t want to listen because the truth hurts and sometimes, once it’s out in the open it means that we might learn things about ourselves that are hurtful or we would have to change. My family does not believe in excepting the ugly things about themselves, as far as they are concerned the events never happened. It’s easier that way. To continue living with their heads buried in the sand rather than trying to change and become healthy. I can’t live that way anymore, so I have to let them go. It hurts, the loss. The emptiness of knowing that they aren’t there to have my back anymore, to laugh and be stupid with me, to just know that I have somebody to call if I’m having a bad day or want to share good news. I miss them so much.