Ostrich Syndrome

Hi, My Name is Twisted Cinderella and I have Ostrich Syndrome.

Let me explain. There are some things I would rather not know. There are certain times when certain things are beyond my control and knowing them would only disturb me, and I would rather not know about them.

For example, you know those shows, where you see behind the scenes, caught on camera things that the waitress did to your food in the kitchen before she brought it out? Well, if it isn't a restaurant that I go to, then I don't want to know. I don't want to go into every restaurant I see examining the faces and actions of each employee trying to decipher their actions and motives, picturing the things they could be doing in the back, behind closed doors. I can't, I would never eat out again and I LIKE to eat out once in a while. Like an ostrich, I prefer to stick my head i the sand and pretend I don't see it.

Another example is news stories of little children in other cities, other countries, other places that are hurt and victimized in some way. I have three beautiful girls that I am constantly trying to protect. I struggle daily with trying to balance protecting them with giving them the freedom to grow up and learn from their mistakes and enjoy the world around them. It is hard enough for me to do that. But those horrible stories, break me. I see those children and my heart shatters for their lost innocence, and aches for their mothers who will forever have to live with the knowledge that someone hurt their babies. I can't take it. I sob, I have nightmares. When I close my eyes, I picture those lost souls and I hug my babies picturing them in their place, terrified that somebody will someday hurt them in that same way. A little piece of my soul is lost to each child that hear about. I don't know these lost souls. I can't help them in any way. As much as I long to, I can't gather them in my arms, kiss their foreheads and promise that I will be there for them, that I will love them, that I will take away their pain. And I want to. Each. And. Every. Time. I cry. Every. Time. I can't know about each case. I can't live with it. I can't carry that burden. I can't dream those dreams. I need to know that I live in a relatively safe Province in a relatively safe Country and that I keep my girls as safe as I can. I need to think that they will be okay.

I need to be that little kid who sticks their fingers in their ears, closes their eyes, and blocks out the horrors. Short of moving out into the woods, and living completely away from the world, I can't be absolutely certain that my girls are perfectly safe at all time, but in order to be a healthy mom with healthy kids, I need to be an ostrich with my head in the sand.