Sleepyhead Barney

My daughter left me behind. She grew up, moved on and made a choice that this relationship was toxic. I worked and continue to work to become more tuned into what I am putting out in the world, how my feelings affect those around me. Because of this work, I’ve identified people that I no longer want to spend time with, so I do understand that decision. There are also people that I wish I had more time to spend with. I see them now. I see how their actions were not about me, but about them. I understand that I really have no idea what is happening inside of their mind or, more importantly, why their mind is doing what it’s doing. When I see anger I read it as pain. When I see tears, I see suffering. When I witness an outburst, I see a cry for help.

I thought I was broken. There were days upon days, weeks upon weeks where I didn't feel that I had anything left to offer in this world except pain and suffering, disappointment and failure. I was a piece of shit who deserved to be discarded, flushed away and ignored. My children would be better off without me. I wanted to disappear so that I could do no harm. I believed every word said to me that was negative. Kind supportive words bounced off of me without penetrating in the least. I soaked the hate in like a thirsty sponge that was resistant to anything positive. If you loved me, it was because you didn’t really know me. If you really knew me, you’d hate me, too.

I don’t understand how my daughter still loves Sleepyhead Barney when it’s something that is from me. Isn’t he tainted by association?