Will Today be the Same as Yesterday?

Do you ever have those days that when you wake up, you feel as if the day is going to be the best one you’ve had in a long time? Then not long after being awake, your realize you couldn’t have been more wrong even if you tried…. That’s how yesterday was for me.

I woke up to the smell of French toast being cooked. This was the first time someone (other than me) has cooked a meal in over a week. I get up and race out to the kitchen. My mom’s out there making her delicious French toast, and my dad is in the living room playing on his phone.
We ate like a family for the first time in a really long time. Then it started to go downhill from there. They started bickering because mom made mention of one of dad’s “girlfriends.” You can’t mention that without my dad becoming cranky…
My mom left for work around 9:45 am… And not even 20 minutes later, my dad told me he was going to be out of the house till 2:00p.m, and I had till then to find a place to go. I wasn’t allowed at my own house. Him telling me that, made me feel like a terrible daughter.
I had drama from 11-12, but I stayed there until 3. I then went into state college with a few friends from drama until around 10. I then stayed at my nans. Thankfully during this time, I had my pastor to repeatedly tell me that this wasn’t my fault.
My mom got home from work around 7:30 and was wondering why I didn’t come home all day, do I told her to ask my father. He told her that I just said I wasn’t coming home all day. Therefore, I got into even more trouble.
Now I am sitting in my car before going into church, wondering if today is going to be a repeat of yesterday. Please God, give me the patience to get through this day. AMEN.


Daily Post: Mirror, Morror on the Wall

I always check out the daily posts. None of them usually put a spark in my mind until today. Pretend my blog was a mirror… What does the name of my blog, my posts, and bio all say about me. Now that is something I can write about.

I will start off with my blog name seeing as how that is how the whole blog started. The name Maybesomeday. I guess this name is just to show that maybe someday everything will be the way it once was. Maybe someday someone will be there to listen to what I have to say. Maybe someday we will be free of the trap that keeps dragging us back into torture. I am not sure of when this day will be, but I do know that it will happen someday. I recently saw this little message on my pastors wall…

“Whatever God brings you to, He will give you the strength to get through it.”

That makes me completely sure that soon I will be through the torturous events that I now just excuse as “I am used to it.”

Next my posts and my bio: I guess at first my posts were to vent. I would blog when I was angry because venting makes everyone feel better. Now I just blog what comes to mind. I guess I do it because the one person I could talk to about all of the trouble my father puts us through isn’t as trust worthy as I once thought. She was actually telling my parents everything I said, which led to being grounded a lot for “hanging out dirty laundry.” A statement my mother makes a lot. I then found another person, but now that they are in the trap as well… There’s no use. My next option was my pastor, but sometimes I just feel if I say too much she might try to do something about it, and I am not ready for that yet. I am afraid I would ,yet again, get in trouble. Being able to tell whoever, whenever by just blogging makes me feel so much better on the inside. Getting replies on how people feel similar or how what I do is correct, just makes me feel like I have finally made the correct choice. Blogging.

Open letter time

Saw this today, so I’m going to give it a try…

Dear Alcohol,
In my opinion you should have never ever been created. Do you know how many lives you have destroyed? Not only in deaths, but in memories and future thoughts. Why are you such a bad thing when people just want to have fun?

My father is addicted to you. Mr. Alcohol you stole the father I once knew right from my hands. I used to be his baby girl. The one he loved and cared about. Now I am not a match for you, alcohol.

No matter what good I do… Good grades, nhs, nhshss, and so much more, I still can’t please the man who used to be my father.

You ruined my parents relationship… They used to love each other so much. Now the only love they have is the fighting they do on a daily basis. You make my father someone he is not! You make him angry all the time. You make him not love his own family all because he is in love with you!

Lets just get this straight… I will never, ever trust you Mr. Alcohol. You are nothing to me. Just a bunch of trash in a bottle. You don’t even deserve to exist. I think life would be a better place if you didn’t exist personally…

That’s all I have to say for now… Think about what I said and maybe someday you can release my father from your trap, so I can have the man I knew best back.

Me 🙂

Questions… And More Questions

Have you ever wondered why you are where you are? Why loneliness never goes away? When will you feel like you belong? Why can’t I just please you for a change?

These questions seen to run through my head a lot. Especially lately. If you have read previous posts you should know that my dad is an alcoholic, and we don’t get a long very well. My mom is afraid of him and sticks up for him about everything. Even if it is a lie…

Sometimes it makes you feel abandoned. Like nobody is there. Like you don’t belong in the family you are in. Lately, I have come to see various differences between my family and I.

1. When a fight happens… The next day no one speaks of it or even acts like it happens except me. I always bring it up or can’t get over the anger I have built up inside me. I really wish there was someone to talk to.

2. My family gets mad over simple things. Including: picking, asking the same questions repeatedly, etc. Then instead of acting like they are mad at just that one person, they are mad at everyone. It’s so irritating!

3. When my family is mad they act like they are two not 34 and 38. They throw stuff, slam things down, mock each other, call each other very immature names. When I am mad I yell a little then listen to head phones until I decide I can face the world again.

I could continue on, but I don’t want to bore you. These simple differences between my family and I make me feel like I don’t belong in the household. Like I am the odd one out. Like nobody cares.

If I didn’t look like a spitting image of my mother and there weren’t pictures proving my mother being my mother, then I would probably feel like I was adopted. They would never tell me if I was. Sometimes it just doesn’t seem fair.

When moments like these come by, my favorite place to be is at a church event. Being surrounded by my church family, makes me feel like I actually belong somewhere. Knowing God is my Father… I can never be alone.

I think that is why my favorite verse in the Bible is Philippians 4:13. “I can do all things through Christ who strengthens me.”


Comment if you feel this way. Or if this is your favorite verse. Or if you feel like you belong when surrounded by your church family.