Feeling like a plastic bag

Katy Perry's latest song says "Do you ever feel like a plastic bag drifting through the wind. wanting to start again? Do you ever feel, feel so paper thin like a house of cards, one blow from caving in? Do you ever feel already buried deep, six feet under, scream, but no one seems to hear a thing?"

I've felt that way. I know many others have to, or that song wouldn't have any meaning. People relate to it. It's such an inspiring song, too. Those who don't "get" feeling like a paper bag are very, very lucky and blessed.

For the most part, I don't feel like that anymore. I have the best husband, and a wonderful family.

But when you're surrounded by nothing but liars, cheats, druggies and just over all horrible people that you should be able to count on, you feel like a house of cards, on the verge of caving in. When you are constantly being punished for things you didn't do, or things that are normal to do, you begin to feel like what's the point? Nothing you do is good enough. When you have a big event such as a clarinet recital, or choir concert, or even graduation and the people who are supposed to care for you don't show up because what? You're not worth it. When all these things build up and you begin to feel empty inside... that's what feeling like a plastic bag drifting through the wind is. Just going through life. Going through the motions. You're wrong if you get upset, and you're horrible if you get excited. You're not allowed to have an opinion, and you're most certainly not allowed to stand up for yourself.

The times that I do still feel like that? When I think about giving birth. Second to my husband, I want the mother I had when I was a little girl to be there. I don't want what she has become now anywhere near me, but when I was little I really bonded with her. I could tell her anything. I felt like she was truly there for me.

My step mom, she's great, amazing even. But she's still not her. I was taught in the beginning to hate her, and so I feel like she and I never got close. Of course, once my naivete wore off, and I stopped trusting my mother, and started getting to know my step-mom, I saw how great she is.

I didn't make that same mistake with AL (I call her my third mother). By the time AL came into my life through my step-dad (well... ex-step-dad) I had learned to not listen to my mom and I've loved AL from the very beginning.

Even though I have these great moms and these great dads, I still want my childhood mom there for me in my next big events. She's gone though, and when I think about that, I start to feel like that stupid plastic bag. Of course, then my daddy randomly texts me that he loves me or my husband kisses me on the forehead and that moment passes and I'm aware of how truly blessed I am... how great I am... and that I am worth it. Those from my past are just too blind to see it.