fear

“She didn’t know who would go or stay, so she pushed them all away.”

It’s a beautiful Sunday afternoon! A fun and beautiful weekend is coming to a close. I have recommitted to LIVING my life, not just going thru the motions. I have actually left my house multiple times for things that weren’t chores! I went for a little ride with a friend, celebrated another friend’s birthday, spent all day baking with another friend. That’s a lot of activity and yet today, I feel completely and utterly alone. Sad. Even typing these words brings tears into my eyes and I can’t even tell you why, other than there is a huge hole in my life and my heart that I don’t quite know how to fill. I don’t mean any disrespect to anybody who has lost a partner, but I feel like somebody died. I don’t know how to explain it any other way. I am grieving my best friend, the man I thought was “it” for me. The man I thought would be sitting next to me in rocking chairs to enjoy these beautiful end of summer nights. I miss the companionship, the conversations, I miss him, even though I now know it was all a lie. To me, it was all so very real. It was 11 years of my life that I spent loving him and now he’s gone from my life, filling the role for somebody else. Why wasn’t it me? After 11 years, why wasn’t I enough? I now realize that this is probably my biggest fear, the trigger that is the most destructive and it goes way beyond him. I have been abandoned, literally, since birth starting with being given up for adoption. [*A note to my family – please do not take offense to this and please understand where I am coming from, or ask me.] When I start feeling this way, I tend to self-isolate rather try to fix it.

I will never understand how somebody who claims to love you can make the decision they KNOW will cause you such horrific pain. It is truly one of the most selfish acts to ever be committed. I cannot understand it and I have to stop trying to. Why do I care “why” he did it? The fact is that he did indeed lie and cheat, intentionally shattering my body, mind and soul. He abandoned me for being “such a fat bitch”. Why would I miss that? That has to be what you’re thinking, right? Maybe judging me a little for being so stupid? Saying how pathetic?! Well, let me assure you…nobody will judge me more than I have already judged myself. I have gone over every scenario in my mind a million times. What could I have done different? What if I had…? How could he want this woman over me? I am not a conceited person, but I am going to say she is not all that and does not measure up! Yes, I am jealous as hell and it makes me physically nauseous to think of them together and I can’t stop myself sometimes. I play the damaging game of comparison even though I know it’s not healthy. She is a bartender in a dive bar, I am a successful IT professional making my way in a man’s world. She lives in a dirty little townhome that reeks of dog pee and her cigarette smoke, I have a beautiful home with a great yard for my dogs, a garden, bbq’s, etc. Again, I am not conceited, but this may sound like it…I don’t care…these are my thoughts. Her lifestyle has taken quite a toll on her appearance and at 46, she looks a lot older than me at 51. He is a professional…why would that be what he wants? I spent a couple of hours talking with her, it was not impressive. He and I have always talked business and ambition, he’s always been so great with advice about work situations…what conversation is he having with her? Who she cut off at the bar that day? Maybe how to get dog piss out of her home by walking her poor dogs so they don’t go in the house?? I know it sounds petty, and this conversation isn’t attractive, I know, I know. So why can’t I stop replaying this over and over? I want off the merry go round! Most days recently I have been feeling GREAT, so when the tough days come along, I have to deal with it somehow and it seems that writing is my best outlet, even when it’s a bit more of a raw rant than I really want to put out there. So like I said last time, please bear with me! This is all coming from my still very shattered heart and while it may not sound constructive, this is me trying to work through all the things so I can move on.

So if you know anything about the biker community, you know that if your man rides that back seat is yours and no other woman better EVER be on it without your permission! In turn, you don’t hop on another man’s bike without your man’s approval or extenuating circumstances that you immediately notify him of! This is serious business. I was on the back of a friend’s bike this past week and I’m not going to lie, it felt a little weird. I almost felt like I was betraying him…how absurd is that?! I have no idea if he has had her on his bike, but he has certainly had her on other things that would give me the right and freedom to do anything I damn well please – least of all a bike! So why do I still feel like it’s betrayal? How can I still have that sense of loyalty to somebody that doesn’t even know the meaning of the word?! This is of course a rhetorical question, I know the answer; I just don’t like it.

One of the biggest lessons I’ve learned contradicts what we grew up being told. “Treat people how you want to be treated and they’ll return it.” Did your family tell you that? Mine did, and what load of crap! You have absolutely ZERO control over how somebody treats you. You only have control over how you respond. Treat people with respect, genuinely care for them don’t be attached to the outcome. Don’t be good to somebody because you want something in return, be good to people because it comes from your heart and you can’t go wrong! That is my mentality, so you can see why this doesn’t jive for me. I have hurt people in my lifetime, don’t get me wrong. I have made MANY poor choices in my life and I have often wondered if this is my Karma. Did the poor choices I made that hurt somebody bring this on for me? I recently had this conversation with my best friend and admitted to some really hurtful things in my life when I was younger and definitely not thinking thru the consequences as I should have and while I’ve already asked for forgiveness from the one that truly matters, if I’ve caused you pain and you come across this post, I am sorry for causing you pain. Even him…we all know his name so I don’t need to use it, but I am sorry for pain I have caused you with my words. You know very well I have done nothing more, regardless of what you are saying about me. I am working to forgive you. I don’t want to hate you, it feels so gross to have that in my heart and my thoughts, I cannot keep doing it.

I am trying so hard to let this go and move on with my life. I am having more good days than bad but when it’s bad like today, it really sucks. I want nothing more than to stop feeling like I am not good enough and that I will be abandoned, yet again. I want to live my life and be happy, that’s it. I will find it again and be better than I was before!

Thank you for stopping by and I’ll take all the prayers and positive vibes you have to offer!

Child Abuse is the World’s Greatest Silent Crime

“Only when we are no longer afraid, do we begin to live.”  – Dorothy Thompson

Throughout our lives so many types of memories are created.  Good, bad, fun, scary, some indifferent.  I have memories of laughing harder than I have ever laughed before and I have memories of nightmare moments that many would never believe actually happened.  We have all experienced those moments, right?  Just some to other extents than others.  I believe that these assist in creating who we are as adults.  We turn out to be the product of our environment combined with things inherent within us.  Some people go through little and come out a mess and some live a life of hell and come out on top.  Things affect people in different ways and drive them to different abilities.  I am thankful today, that while I am one that went through hell growing up, a lot of abuse and contrary to that, I am a pretty OK adult!  I am full of strength I sometimes forget I have, I have a good work ethic and I have intelligence that got me where I am today; all while being a loving and compassionate person, (despite what some might say).  I love my fellow man and woman, although am often afraid to show it for fear of rejection.  I am in love with you, I am especially in love with me these days.  I am in love with the less fortunate who are trying to put food in their bellies or the bellies of their hungry children, and with their children who are struggling and hungry and don’t know any different.  I am in love with love, despite abuse; and in fact I crave it and don’t function well without it.  I think that would be exact reason I have made myself a priority lately and have focused so much on getting myself right.  I have learned that I cannot depend on anybody other than myself and my God to fulfill that hole in my heart that needs the love.  I am blessed to have the support system that I have now; but years ago, I didn’t have that.

I lived most of my formative years in fear.  Something that most people cannot fathom.  Fear of what was coming next, what was lurking around the corner.  Do you know what living in fear feels like?  Let me give you insight into what my world felt like, as I dealt with the fear and pain in silence and hid it.  It’s paralyzing.  Was there a punch to the face coming from my brother?  Will there be a black eye, will my jaw open wide enough to eat after he hits me across the face?  Will there be a bat to my ribs and will I be able to stand upright?  How long until I catch my breath?  Is there a 2×4 being swung at my head?  Will I be woken up inappropriately in the night and have to fight for my innocence?

Do any of you have claustrophobia?  Do you know where it came from?  I have it so bad I have to be pulled from the MRI tube 2 or 3 times crying because it terrifies me so badly.  How about fear of heights?  That’s my biggest one.  Fears all come from somewhere, you’re not born with them, they’re learned.    From the age of 3 or 4, (I’m not sure which age, but I know that was my age when I lived in the house where it started) we lived on a farm in Missouri.  Southern Missouri is filled with mountainous cliff hillsides, beautiful lush green trees and snakes.  Lots and lots of snakes.  As a 10-11 year old boy, my brother loved the snakes, toads, lizards – basically anything he could find to scare the daylights out of a 4 year old child.  He also was a good builder.  He build tree houses all over our property, one in particular that I was mortified to go up because that is where he kept his “pets”.  His pets being all of the creepy crawly things that I mentioned before.  I would be easily coerced into going up the tree house at 3-4 years old because I believed him that he wouldn’t do anything to scare or hurt me.  We are quite gullible at that age!  As a child you see the good in everyone, you don’t think they’re out to hurt or scare you and ultimately damage you for life.  So as I climbed the rickety boards nailed into the tree to the house portion, I would immediately see that he had NOT, in fact, gotten rid of any of his creepy crawlies and they he would lock the gate so I was stuck.  Stuck in the air, with him and his disgusting mind and jars of snakes, frogs and lizards.  (I was really only scared of the snakes because they were huge and scary; frogs and lizards I played with on the ground all the time.)  Here I am trapped with him as my commander to do as he says or he puts snakes on me.  Kind of like “it rubs the lotion on its skin or it gets the hose”.  Sick analogy, right?  But that’s what I think of every time, that’s how it felt.  So without further details, I tell you this is why today, I am mortified of snakes and I don’t like heights.  Now the claustrophobia, that’s a different story.  I suppose some of that came from him trapping me in a small space, but mostly from him holding me down.  Remember he is 7 years older than me and quite big.  He would be over top of me with my arms and legs pinned with his and first I would just get mad, then I would panic and scream and cry.  Eventually, he would be satisfied with his torture and let me up.  To this day, I cannot stand to be held down.  Not that this happens a lot as an adult, but in my younger years I found some superhuman strength if I got into a scrap and was on bottom, I quickly made it out of there and back on top.  Even playing around, wrestling, I feel trapped and will almost immediately freak out and start yelling.  I already told you how I react to the MRI tube and that is something I have to do several times a year.

Then there was my mom…what awful names will she call me today?  What would I do wrong today?  How would I displease or disappoint her?  What awful things would I be accused of when I was still very much innocent?  Will she grab me by the back of the head and slap me back and forth until her hand is tired?  How high will my anxiety be today?  Will my stomach hurt from the stress?  Will I need a pill to control my “nervous stomach” as they called it then.  Will I survive another day in this house?  How quickly can I get out and how late can I stay?  These were the thoughts that went through my head on a daily basis.  Utter fear brought all of these feelings to me every single day that I had to live in that house.  Put yourself in that mindset for just a moment.  Can you imagine that these are the people that you depend on, every single day of your life, yet you’re mortified of them?  Will they protect you or hurt you that day?  AND THEY CHOSE TO ADOPT ME!!!  WHY??  I’m not saying my life would have been any better anywhere else, but that question will always be there.  My life was hell and did it really have to be?  As a mother myself, I know I have not been perfect; in fact far from it.  I can guarantee you one thing though, if you ask my daughter if I love her she’ll say yes.  If you ask her if I would die protecting her, she’ll say yes.  I’ve had plenty of fails as a parent, but ultimately my child knows I would and DO, do anything in the world for her.  So please be clear, I am making no claims to being a perfect mom, but my daughter does not live in fear of me nor does she question my faith and love in her; and that is all I ever wanted from my mom.  Faith and love.  And protection.  I never got any of it before she died.  I will live with that nightmare for the rest of my life.

Then there was Dad…he was the closest thing to a hero I ever had in the house.  My dad was the best, although looking back now I don’t understand why or how he let everything happen.  He wasn’t a large stature man.  He was only 5’9″, retired from the military on disability with a very bad back and just not physically able to do a lot in the realm of protection for me.  He couldn’t fight off my brother by any means and hadn’t been able to for many years.  My brother is 6’3″ and weighed about 300 lbs.  Dad was no match for him and he couldn’t physically protect me.  He couldn’t protect himself or Mom either, as my brother often turned on them as well.  I will never understand why he didn’t get me out of there though.  Call the cops, do something!!  I know my dad loved me more than anything and I believe that to be the reason Mom hated me, jealousy.  She never worked.  He didn’t work.  So my entire life they were both home and Mom didn’t drive.  It was a very old fashioned home.  Mom and Dad cooked dinner together every night.  They went to the store together.  They hung laundry on the clothes line together.  They differed on my treatment.  Dad was never ok with it, but didn’t stop it.  So on one hand he was my hero but on the other hand he was the enabler.  I feel guilt when I say this, because I loved him so much, but it made him as guilty as the abusers by not putting a stop to it.  Silence is as bad as performing the act yourself.  Remember that people.  If you see abuse – DO SOMETHING!!!!  If you aren’t sure, find out.  Call somebody to have it checked out.  Could you live your life knowing that YOU allowed ME to go through what I’ve just described to you?  I couldn’t.  If I could stop all abuse I would, but I’ll take it one at a time as I can for now.

This brother is now in prison for the rest of his life, where he belongs, but the nightmares will never stop.  In fact, the first thing for me to do today was write because I woke up screaming at 6:30am over a nightmare of him and Mom.  The nightmare took place in our old house where I lived in high school.  He was in his 20’s by then and I had learned to stand up to him.  He would come and go when he pleased, not really living there, but showing up to stay whenever he wanted and the hell would ensue.  Most of my dreams, or nightmares, are a real depiction of what took place.  We are both home, I try to be calm, but the fear wells up and it’s as if he is an animal that can smell it.  The fear triggers his reaction and the hunt and fight are on.  In this particular dream last night (remember how crazy dreams can be), the fight began and several pieces I don’t remember of me trying to get away and scream but nothing came out; he ended up holding me down as described before, shoving paper into my mouth so I couldn’t breathe.  All the while, Mom was in the next room not hearing my cries.  This was a much more intense dream than usual and I didn’t know where I was but I knew it was a dream I needed to wake up from.  I didn’t know how old I was for instance or that I was in my bedroom or where the door was, because I was looking for it as I tried to wake myself from the screaming cries with tears rolling down my face.  When I finally woke, I couldn’t stop crying.  It’s a horrible realization that these things happen and not just to me, but to thousands of children and much worse than what I went through.  It absolutely breaks my heart.  It takes me back to a time I don’t like to remember, but I am thankful somehow that I have these memories because it gives me empathy and understanding for those that have also endured this type of life.  It also gives me the satisfaction of knowing I survived it, I have strength most don’t have because of it and unfortunately I have insecurities and fears most don’t have as well.  So in everything there is good and bad.  I ignored for so long…I focused on the bad…now I learn from it and focus on the good.

Thanks for coming back, more to come!  Love.