Forgive me blog, for I have sinned

You read it right. I have sinned, quite substantially in my absence. In fact I am a hopeless writer. I have been subsisting in a paralell world of self-pity that co-exists with my normal world.
Let's face it we all have our demons or whatever you want to name them. It makes no difference. Some things are harder than other. I am useless parent. I try but never quite hit the mark. It's hard putting someone else's need ahead of your own everytime which facing it, I don't manage to achieve. Today, I simply had to go to the toilet before getting the children lunch even though they were very hungry. My eldest causes most concern. I suspect I royally screwed up somewhere along the line. Something went wrong in the bonding experience as I was convinced he was going to die (well he was in NICU) and the feelings were too painful when he was born and I simply couldn't cope with them.
I was not prepared for the overwhelming experience of love and something shut down to prevent me loosing it. It is said you parent based on your own experiences. Mine is an odd background. Rejected at birth by my mother - I don't really know why, neither do I blame her. She's actually a lovely person and I think there were a lot of factors  involved, but I have never had an explanation from her and I've said I don't need one. My grandparents looked after me for the first year. Then I was at home when my father remarried to my mother. She loved me as her own child, but something in me has always kept my distance.
I have always tried to be as emotionally independent and self-sufficient as possible. The trouble with that is it seems to involve shutting off one's true feelings and trying not to feel. You can come across as cold. I learnt to control my temper that way eventually.
The eldest has my temper and it's not focused. Focusing anger gives it purposes. If I was told I couldn't do something, I always had to prove someone to the contrary. My academic record speaks for itself, I guess that makes me lucky. My eldest doesn't have that - for his school there seem to be no redeeming features.

Tonight I listen to music to try to heal the pain in my soul. F*ck that sounds conceited and somewhat pathetic. Sometimes I even listen to Bette Middler. Bette Middler I ask you. Cheesy elevator music. what is wrong with me. I should have been a singer in a folk band and yet you find me listening to this trash. C'est la vie. Or is it? Am I giving in to mediocracy? Do I Care? Should I!