Daddy has sent out more of these invites out to the gods and goddesses, and more have come to the mountain. The aunts have returned today. Aunt Demeter is Dad’s elder sister and she adores me. I am grateful she has returned, because her pies are amazing. Aunt Hestia is a keeper of the old ways. Her stew is the best in the world. She wasn’t very pleased that I haven’t grown up much in the two millennia that we have not been worshiped. I got angry at her insistence and Lady Hera scolded me. I hate being scolded in public like that. The aunt was wrong to assume the old ways were still in effect.
But I, too, was wrong. Aunt Hestia is the keeper of our history, and she remembers a time when Daddy would come begging me for a favor or two. She remembers the warrior, the strong fighter of old. A head charioteer that drove her brother to victory. UGH!!! No one cares about all of that now? I’m just a small Goddess these days. Before, they really needed me, and now what do I do? I know my aunt doesn’t mean to be set in her ways, but it hurt me to have her speak of my triumphs of old because it brought back so many memories that I really want to forget. Oh no, there I go again; I’m crying. I’ll be right back.
It’s two hours later. Sorry about leaving you hanging like that, Diary. I needed to fly it out. No one seems to understand how much this move off the mountain is affecting me.
I mean, I’m glad that the family is coming back together, but in doing so, are we just opening up old wounds? Are the old family feuds going to start up again? I hope not. I will always side with Dad, no matter what. I have to. Ugh! I can’t do this right now. I’m crying again. Damn, what’s wrong with me? I’m going on patrol now. Bia keeps looking at me like she knows that something is wrong with me, but she hasn’t said anything to me. Talk to you later.
So I’m back…hmmm
What I mean to say is the aunts remind me of the old days. They are both kind and loving. It’s just that they have lived away from us – from me – for so long…that I’m missing my first parents…Mother forgive me. I’m lying on my bed, sobbing uncontrollably.
These stupid voices in my head:
You’re not strong!
Why are you acting like a child? you are not one!
Are you old enough yet? Who are you? Why are you letting them talk to you like that?
What’s wrong with you? You are not yourself.
Zeus isn’t your Father.
They are only using you.
They Don’t LOVE YOU!!
I woke up, startled by these voices. WT FREAKING HECK!!!!
Moxie, I don’t think this is helping me. All I’m doing is crying and getting more pissed off at myself.
I just wish they had time to talk to me. Or maybe just listen to me.
Agh, just stop! I’m being weak, stop it! I’m fine, no fear! NO FEAR!
It will be alright…