Posts Tagged With: Acceptance

Finding Mel Again

First, a note that I have just written as a response on a friend’s FB page.

While Fairy Tales are cool and all that; it needs to be made clear that they are only fairy tales and things like that don’t happen in real life.  Keep it real with your kids so they can handle reality when it hits them upside the sides of their heads, blindsides them and sends them spinning like a tornado in the midst of disaster.
I’ve learned that the majority of people prefer not to hear about the ugly truths that are our reality. They prefer fairy tales and happy endings.
Unfortunately, fairy tales and happy endings exist only in books and the imagination. Is it any wonder why some have such difficulty dealing with tragedy when we are raised listening to how maids turn into princesses and are saved by their Prince Charming?
We look for our Prince, the perfect guy that is there to rescue us from all the ugly guys. The villains are always dark and unattractive while the Prince is always handsome and wealthy.
Little do we know, it is the handsome, wealthy, perfect guy who says all the right things at all the right times that we must avoid. No one sees how the Prince is after the sun goes down and he has the darkness to hide his deeds under.
But what kind of fairy tale does the truth make? Who wants to date the ugly guy anyway. People will stare at you and make fun of you.
Well, it’s better to be mocked by the blissfully ignorant masses than it is to be a victim of the great pretender.

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I am not who I was two years ago.  I couldn’t even tell you who I was two years ago.  I thought I knew me, but in the midst of tragedy, I lost who I was and became who I really am.  I have learned more about myself through recent tragedy than any other event in my lifetime.  I know things about the world that I never knew before that makes everything look so different now than it did before the tornado struck my family.


OK – More thoughts – bear with me.  Things have been crazy, wild, and weird this year.  Another comment.


[I have to xxxxxx a lot out right here xxxxxx.  I should’ve posted this the day I wrote it. xxxxxxxx.]
So tired of this. A year and a half – longer – 1 3/4 years – He’s been at it. You know I fear nothing now. I believe I’ve lost my sanity, or at least half of it.  More likely that I’ve woken up into the real reality that the majority are still sleeping through.  Either way,  I’m still finding me.


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I haven’t written about my one daughter as of yet. It still hurts to much and even more so now. There is both good and bad happening daily. I suppose as long as it balances out, I will continue to survive it. After all, I’ve remained standing this long.


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I am glad for those who continue to speak out on suicide. All of my children and myself have suicidal tendencies. I could never – I would just lay in bed forever and hope it would happen but the children always interrupt me and I have to get up. My children on the other other hand; I never witnessed what they experienced and I could not imagine how they managed to find ways of surviving; but I see the after effects and they aren’t pretty or poetic or fluffy. I can relate to the breaking of one’s own heart. I do it on a daily basis no matter how hard I try not to. It seems the harder I try not to, the more defined the cracks become.


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It’s difficult to smile when one of your children are not. I feel guilty being happy and it’s hard to be happy when not all the children are happy. I hurt over that. I blame me. Sometimes, the children blame me too. BUT! In the good news, there is my eldest who just recently went on a vacation – jailhouse style. He begged me to bail him out. I told him, not this time son. This time, you will stay put. Don’t call me. Don’t write me. Don’t ask me for money. When you get out, you are not welcome in my home. The day you decide to be sober and stay sober and get help to face your demons is the day you can come home.

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He’s my first born. It hurt to say those words to him and hurt more to write them in a letter and mail them to him. Knowing his suicidal thoughts and not wanting to make him feel disposed of. Fearing the outcome of what I had just done yet knowing it was the only action I could take as I cannot travel his path for him.


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My son called me collect today and I took the call. He’s seen a psychiatrist. He’s on medication. He thanked me for leaving him there and told me not to bail him out yet because he wants to spend more time staying sober because right now he would go back to using. The relief his words brought me today – the knowing that I am not going to find him dead when I go check on him – either from an overdose or the hands of another or his own hands. My son is finally growing up.  Drugs mask pain.  Sobriety lets it flow out.  The memories are painful.  But he’s ready to face them head on and release them into the past where they belong and I thank God for that.


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It is time to find me or redefine me or whatever you wish to call it when the moment hits you that you have no idea who you are and you decide to find yourself.  The only place I know to look is inside of myself.  First, I need to clear out the junk that I’m buried under.  That should lighten the load quite a bit and make it easier to walk my path.  The distractions catch me every time and I don’t need to keep dragging them around with me anyway.  I’ve found that writing the junk out of me, keeps it from coming back and it soon disappears into the archives of my blogs.  Put the past where it belongs:  in the archives.


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Off I go to find me.  Sometimes, a little me time is in order so be sure to take some for yourself as well.

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Categories: Adventure | Tags: , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , ,

SUNSHINE

Cynthia, remember when you first introduced me to this video?

I remember everything. Sunflowers are your favorite flower. Green is your favorite color. You love the cold and hate the heat. You hate wearing dresses. You hated them since the day you were born. You want to go to Alaska and run the Iditarod. You want to go to Madagascar and work with animals. You want to attend a college in Europe for a year. You are interested in Veterinary services because you want to help the animals.

You are considering being a combat medic and then studying medicine to become a Brain Surgeon. You love cats. You especially like the big kind, like the black panther at the Douglas Zoo named Ninja. He’s probably passed on by now.

You like little dogs but only for a short period of time. Big dogs are more your style because they can go and do things you go and do.

Who you are at the core of your being never changes. It may get lost or buried, but it always stays the same. You have a heart. You are not cold. I know you like to play tough and push people away before you start to care about them. It is easier that way than having your heart broken, but that is not living. If you are not feeling, then you are not living. You want to be happy, but you can never be happy if you never allow yourself to feel. I hope that you are doing well in school. I would like very much to attend your graduation. I am curious to know if you have yet decided on the Navy or a different course.  Are you going to prom?  Do you need a dress?  Let me know and I will make it happen.  I always have and I always will.  You wanted Washington DC and I gave you Washington DC.  You wanted California and I gave you California.  I remember your prom dress last year.  I remember when you picked it out and sent me the photo.  It was over your budget but when I saw you in that dress, I had to get it.  You were so excited and thankful.  You were the most beautiful young lady at the prom.

You don’t think I hear you or pay attention, but I do. I remember everything you tell me. How else would I know that you have a big heart?  I remember the boy that no one liked.  You took him under your wing and transformed him and helped him gain friends.  He wasn’t the only one, either.  A heartless soul would never have done that.  I know you don’t like to be touched and I completely understand that. I do not blame you one bit. I would like so very much to hug you and hold you and comfort you so you could get it all out. It is OK to cry sometimes. It is OK to not be OK and to say you are not OK. I don’t expect you to be perfect. I expect you to be you. You are perfectly imperfect and I love every single imperfection.  They are what make you, you, and you are so much more than you allow yourself to believe.  Believe in yourself.  Love yourself.  I believe in you.  I love you.

With all of my heart and nothing but unconditional love,

Mom.

Categories: Adventure, Life, Parenthood | Tags: , , , , , , , , ,

My Sunshine

 

imagesZYURDE1NimagesIPO6LPRAI know you don’t believe me when I say that I SEE you, but I do.  I’d love to sit and chat the way we used to.  I am not blind to your pain, you show it to me everyday.  I can see it in your eyes and when I do, I feel it too.  Your smile doesn’t hide it anymore.  I have tried everything I know how to do.  I haven’t had much guidance in the area of motherhood but I do know unconditional love.  Nothing is as I had planned.  In my mind, you were to have a beautiful life, a loving father, a close bond with your siblings, lots of family around you and the most magical holidays you could ever dream of.  It started out that way.  Then everything went wrong.  I am sorry that things were not what they were meant to be.  You deserve so much more.  I cannot change the past but we can change the future.  I need to know that you are OK.  I need to know if I need to come find you.

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untitledUnconditional LoveYou know how I am and you know if I don’t hear from you soon, I will start looking for you.  Even just a FB message that says “I’m OK” from you will do.  I’ll start putting slideshows up of you as a baby.  Or perhaps, of your birth. No, I wouldn’t do that.  That was a joke to make you go, “EWE”..  I made you a video.  I love you Sunshine.  You are my heart.  When you hurt, I hurt.  When you are happy, I am happy.  Remember your dreams.  Follow your dreams.  I know you can do it.  Please call me soon.

All of my love, unconditionally, forever and ever,

Mom.

PS. I will take you video down if you call me and ask me to.  I won’t even argue over it. ❤

I wrote you a letter the other day. I was saving it, but I will share it with you now.  It is here.

Categories: Love | Tags: , , ,

Words Can Hurt and Words Can Heal

clip_image001Use your words wisely. You never know the emotional state somebody else is in.  When you attack with your words, you risk delivering the blow that shatters the already fragile state causing complete destruction of the heart. As soon as the reality sets in that the monster has finally reached everyone around her with his lies and his mission is accomplished, the realization that she no longer has to consider anyone else’s wishes follows.  Why should she when no one considers hers?  It’s not going to change a thing about how others see her.  She’s already hated, so threatening her with hating her isn’t going to work.  We all have triggers. Insults based on her exes lies are triggers. That, on top of what she heard from the person called to tattle on her, as if she’s child and under another’s  control, was more than enough.  She love unconditionally, but she does not like unconditionally and sometimes, when she gets hurt, she hurts back.  Why should she care when no one else does?

To J:  You didn’t think unfriending me would stop me from replying to your comment to me, did you?  It was a great comment.  It is something that comes up in situations like these, related to all that ‘junk’ you’ve been reading on my walls.  I’d like to invite you to write your momma a public letter.  Tell her anything you want to tell her.  Tell her how you feel, what she did, what you expected, wanted and needed growing up.  Tell her what she got right and what she got wrong.  Tell her exactly how she made you feel and how you feel now.  Tell her what you expect from her in the future.  Break the Silence and get your story out there for the world to see.  It will help others in situations like yours.  I will publish it on one of my pages with the others children’s stories and letters.  It takes courage to break the silence.  You used that courage before.  I would like to see you use it again and write anything and everything you feel like writing.  That said…………… …of course there’s more.  I haven’t even addressed your comment to me yet. ❤

You wrote

Ehhh stay off my page as long as that bitch is in your house Melissa, after all the shit she put everyone thru, and all that junk you post on your page i dont understand why you would help her, she deserves anything that comes to her and yoir jut prolonging the inevitable. She doesny deserve a friend like you.

clip_image002[10]How long have I known you? Since you were what, about 5 or 6 years old sounds about right. You and my daughter have been best friends for a long time. Your MOTHER and I were best friends for quite some time as well. Your momma was there for me in times I needed somebody most. She was the only one there. I have been to all the birthday parties she has put together for you and your brother. I don’t even think you know what she went through to make each and every birthday as special and as perfect for you as she could. I don’t think you know half of what she has put herself through to take care of you.  She doesn’t regret it and she would do it a hundred times over if she had to.  She wants nothing but the best for you. She loves you with her whole heart. I remember one Christmas I came by and your momma was in tears  That year she didn’t have any money to buy you a present. She didn’t want you to wake up Christmas morning and not have anything. Your momma is proud and it was not easy to get her to accept help and the only reason why she did it was for you. If not for you, she wouldn’t have taken it. I can only imagine what it is like to have a mom love you so much that she would do anything she possibly can to make you happy. You have that.  I’ve never had that.  Cherish it.  Not all of us can be so lucky.  Her love for you is unconditional and there nothing in this world you can do to make her stop loving you.

I’m going to break down your comment now and address one piece at a time.

Ehhh stay off my page as long as that bitch is in your house Melissa,

Blackmail, eh?  You want me to choose between you and your mother?  I do not make deals with people’s lives.  I have tried to get JJ to understand that for some time now, but he is a sick narcissistic sociopath and blackmail is one of the abusive tactics they use regularly.  JJ the child molester has your dad as a friend. Why don’t you tell your dad to get out of his house as long as he and JJ are friends?  That’s a guy that doesn’t even deserve to live let alone walk around free. He doesn’t even see anything wrong with all the damage he has caused.  He doesn’t even see anything wrong with raping his own daughter.  Look at that anger festering up inside of you. It’s festered so long that it’s blinded you. You have every right to be angry. No one blames you for being angry. She hurt you and she was supposed to always protect you. I was supposed to protect my kids too and I failed. I didn’t hurt them directly, but I never even seen the signs that they were being hurt. Your momma did something she should have never done. She knows that. She admits it.  So now I get the silent treatment because you have mommy issues. That’s OK. I still love you. My love is unconditional as well.

Be aware of the path you are on and don’t become cold, bitter and heartless. You are beautiful and intelligent. You love your momma. I know this. Stop hiding your love behind your anger. Let your love shine through and the anger will fade away.

after all the shit she put everyone thru,

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“Everyone” meaning who?“ All the shit meaning what?” Does no one else have any responsibility for what has happened to them in their lives? What about all the shit your momma has been through? You haven’t been through half the shit she had been through by the time she reached your age.  Is that insignificant? Does it make any difference at all? It doesn’t excuse her actions, but it does explain them. She still has to own her behavior and take responsibility for it.  Just as your poor behavior right now is explained by shit you went through. It is not excused by it though. You still have to own it and take responsibility for it. Knowing where you’ve been shows you are not a mean, spiteful, hateful girl. You’re angry and you need to heal.  I see you through your anger.  When you do not take the time to heal, you end up being the one hurting those you love.  You cannot address the abuse she inflicted without addressing why she inflicted it; what made her what she was.  To kill a weed, you have to kill its roots.  If you pluck it off at the top, it will come back next time it rains.  Break the Silence.  That is why it is so important to talk about it, raise awareness, and get your story out there.  It helps you AND it helps others.

and all that junk you post on your page i dont understand why you would help her,

clip_image002Junk? Obviously if you are calling it junk then you couldn’t understand. You don’t even know what it is. You cannot understand that which you don’t know. Do you know my cause, J? Do you know what I stand for? That “junk” on my page includes things such as #LoveChangesPeople , Make #Compassion go viral, #ShatterTheSilence , #TakeControl , #MakeSomebodySmileToday . We are women, we are warriors, we are mothers and we are proud. We once were victims. Then Survivors. Now Warriors. As warriors, we help those who need help. You can’t understand it because you are too blinded by your anger which is derived from fear. Some go from Victim to Abuser, much like your momma did. But they do not have to stay on that path. They can change direction and become warriors. Some just need a little more help than others. Guidance, love, support, kindness and forgiveness. Actions speak louder than words. I am not asking you to pretend like everything bad is gone. I know it will take time and words don’t mean much. I am asking you for patience and observation. Watch your momma transform into the beautiful woman you remember as a child. Withhold judgment and don’t stand in her way to recovery and healing. Don’t trip her and cause her to fall off the path of all that’s right and just. Let her reach the end to be saved by His Grace and have her pain and sorrow washed away and replaced with joy. You don’t think she deserves it, but God does. No one, not even you, deserves God’s Grace but he waits for us to reach him so he can give it to us anyway. He is waiting for you, too and he Unconditional Lovewill wash away your pain and sorrow too. You cannot understand that until it happens but when it happens, you will know and you will never be able to deny it.  All of that aside, your momma is my friend and friends help friends without judging them.  Family helps family without judging them.  Unconditional Love.  You never turn your back on those who were there for you when you needed them.

she deserves anything that comes to her and yoir jut prolonging the inevitable. She doesny deserve a friend like you.

clip_image002[4]Says who? Says you? And to what do you base such judgment on? Her actions? What about your actions, J? You and I both know you are not perfect and you have done some pretty mean and hateful things. Shall we talk about the little dog you decided you didn’t want anymore and how you tried to get rid of it? Shall you be judged for that little incident for the rest of your life? You tried to kill a little puppy with poison, J, a little puppy that you wanted and then when it got a little older, you grew tired of it and were ready to throw it in the garbage so you could get a brand new one.

More-GraceSo what is this ‘inevitable’ you speak of? Death? We all die, J. We all try our best to prolong it, don’t we? You had so much heart when you were little. Where did it all go? Before you tell me it died or that you’ve been hardened due to the shit that’s happened, think about how your momma got hardened. Can you honestly tell me that you can condemn her for being exactly the way you are headed to be? That’s a bit hypocritical, isn’t it? You can’t condemn her unless you are without error and on a different path than she was on.

VictimOfGraceQuote2.jpgWho are you to decide what type of friends she deserves? God placed her in my path for a reason, J. Evidently, God says she deserves a friend like me and who are you to question God? Maybe she doesn’t deserve such a hateful daughter. Really, she doesn’t but that is what she has to work with and by the Grace of God she will and by His Grace she will succeed and your heart will change.  Speaking of who deserves what, did she deserve what she got from her daddy while growing up?  Of course not.

2014-12-20 21.35.19-1You are afraid that if you give her this chance and let your guard down that she will fail you and mess it all up and you will get hurt again. You cannot live your life in fear of what may happen. You will never know unless you try and getting hurt is a risk that goes along with that but it is a risk that must be taken else you’ll never accomplish anything in life but death and your life would mean nothing and you would never get your purpose. Jump, J. Take a leap of faith. Try it and see what happens.  What are you afraid of?  I bet when you first started reading this, you thought to yourself that you don’t care and that your heart is cold.  If you don’t care and your heart can’t get broke, then there really is no excuse for you not to try, is there?  Heck, do it just to prove me wrong.  Take it as a dare.  Let’s see how it goes.


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With all my heart,

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Categories: Child Sexual Abuse, Healing, Love, Parenthood | Tags: , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , ,

Repairs

Friends are like ass cheeks.  Shit sometimes separates them but they always come back together.The purge is working.  I am feeling much better and once again moving forward in my recovery.There is nothing left tugging at my hem, trying to trip me up. This is good.  What makes it even better is the purge made space for real friends to return to my life.

I am back to making progress.  I’m still wearing my boots. I am nowhere near tired yet.  Progress has a way of giving me strength.  Late last year, I attempted to contact an old friend.  She was once my best friend.  She was always there for me.  I wrote about her on no more silence at Jigsy.  It is not like me to turn my back on a true friend.  I knew she was a true friend, but somehow, John managed to make me believe she wasn’t.  I came to believe she was just using me to get to him.  He told me that.  He told me that she approached him and told him she wanted him all to herself.  I believed it at the time.  I’m not so sure I believe it now.  Maybe he lied or maybe he told her a lie that got her to thinking that way.  I do not know.  What I do know is that it isn’t in my character to do the things I did to her while believing the things John had told me about her.  As I learned with Missy and him being the root of the problem, I believe he is the root of the problem Megs and I had as well.  After all, he was the problem causing the children to fight with each other, the children and I to fight and others to fight.  It’s that drama that the Narcissist Sociopath is addicted to.  They need the drama.  Watching others fight and argue gives him the opportunity to rescue somebody.  That makes him look good and he becomes important to the person he rescued.  The person comes to trust and believe in him and feel that he is a true friend or boyfriend.  It is not really rescuing when he was the creator of the situation in the first place.  It is entrapment.  It is a game.  He does that a lot.  He pits people together by whispering one thing in the person on the right’s ear and something else in the person on the left’s ear.  I’ve written about that as well.  Eventually, the parties do come back together and discuss those whispers.  That is when the Narc experiences more exposure.  I feel it will not be much longer before full exposure occurs.  I must keep fighting until I reach my end goal.  Full exposure is one of many goals on the way to the end goal.

I digressed.  So, what I was saying about Megs is that she has always been a true friend.  She was always there for me as I was for her.  People talked a lot of trash about her and I never understood it.  I never saw her the way they spoke about her.  I defended her when I could.  She was my friend and I wouldn’t let people degrade her.  BAM!  I understand it now. No, they weren’t right.  They just didn’t know.  They did not see her.  When they looked at her, they saw what they were programmed to see by what they had heard.  I never listened to rumor.  That’s why I never saw what they saw.  I only saw Megs.  I never should have simply taken John at his word.  Why did I do that?  Normally, I confront the person and ask if it is true.  There was something about our discussion that made me not approach her.  Perhaps it is because he told me it would be useless, as she would just lie to me and say she never told him that.  BAM.  Had I approached her, she would have said that.  No, she wouldn’t have been lying but he had already set it up to make me believe she would have.  He planted that seed.  It wouldn’t matter what she said.  He already said it and got me to predetermine that it would’ve been a lie.

It looks like I just answered my own question.  He lied to me to separate me from my only best friend I had left in this town.  Now that I think about it even further, it was around the same time that he began sexually abusing Cynthia. Cynthia and Meg’s daughter, Jos, were best friends.  They were almost inseparable.  Most certainly she would’ve told Jos what he was doing had Jos been around.  Damn.  With Megs and I on the outs, Jos didn’t come around.  Megs wasn’t bringing her to visit and no way in hell was I bringing Cynthia to visit Jos.  Damn.

Guess who I talked to today.  Megs.  OMG we talked so much yet no way near enough.  I have missed m best friend.  We need like a whole week on an island with margaritas, pina coladas, and hot sexy men to look at while we catch up with what we’ve been doing.  I know Megs has dealt with some major shit as I have.  I did check up on her once in a while, but I couldn’t talk to her.  It was good chatting with her.  It was only on Facebook, but it was still good.  As soon as she’s back in town, we will get caught up.  I feel like she’s back already – and like I never really lost her.

Progress. More of John’s damages gorilla glued back together.  I have no doubt that this one will be like the others have turned out – stronger than ever – so strong that nothing can ever break the bond again.

True friendship.  Unconditional love.  Love changes people.  Today was an awesome day.  Thank you, God.  I needed that.

As always,

~Mel, Saved by God’s Grace

growing in gods grace

Categories: Friendship, Healing, Love | Tags: , , , , , ,

Survivor’s Psalm

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Categories: Healing | Tags: ,

“I don’t think my family hates me. They just don’t care.”

I read those words posted by a new found friend and fellow warrior, Grace.  Those words have been circling around in my head ever since.

From a quick Google search…

My Parents Don’t Care About Me

Getting Older and The Family That Could Care Less

Why do we need counseling for children who feel their parents hate them?  What is wrong with this world?

My Parents Hate Me

The longer I am a therapist for teens, the more emails I get from desperate teenagers. The emails are most often about a painful incident that makes a teen believe their parent(s) hate them.

Other reasons I get emails from teens:
1. Looking for help: How can I get my parents to say yes?
2. Looking for help: How can I make my parents like me more?
3. Looking for help: Why won’t my parents trust me?
4. Looking for help: Why won’t my parents let me be myself?

I KNOW THOSE WORDS.

Brian and I went up to TMC to see his new granddaughter.  She’s over a week old, but there’s a problem with her blood sugar so she has not been able to go home yet.  She was taken to Tucson where the specialists can run some tests.  Mommy and Daddy have not left her side.  They have many visitors, both friends and family.  People bring them necessities and goodies to snack on as well as little gifts for the baby.  There is always somebody there checking on them and making sure they are hanging in there.  That is LOVE.  Love is helping them travel the difficult path they are on.  As I sat and observed, I felt out of place.  I have not known Love like that.

I DO NOT KNOW THAT LOVE.

When I was hospitalized during my pregnancy with Angel, no one sent me flowers.  No one came to visit.  No one checked up on me.  No one cared.  When I lost Angel, no one came.  No one called.  No one cared.  Some people came to the funeral, but they weren’t there for me.  No one offered me comfort.  My own mother was there.  You know what she talked about?  I allowed her to hold Angel before I put him in his forever bed and she said that holding him was helping her put her miscarriage behind her.  My mother wasn’t very far along when she miscarried a pregnancy before I was born and after my brother was born.  She was in her first trimester and she tells me about how she went to the bathroom one day with terrible cramps and it just came out.  She flushed and that was the end of that.  I don’t want to downplay what she may have been through, but this was not the place nor the time for her to make the day about her and how she can finally recover from a miscarriage that happened over 25 years prior.  Why does she always do that to me?  I have a tragedy.  I am in need of comfort.  I need a hug.  What do I get from her?  A story about something that she went through and how it affected her.  The day with Angel was not a miscarriage.  I had a baby and he died.  There is a difference and on the day I am burying my baby, I don’t give a damn about her miscarriage or anyone else’s for that matter.

WHY DO YOU ALWAYS OVERSHADOW MY TRAGEDIES WITH YOUR OWN?

I was thinking about that day while sitting in the hospital waiting room and watching this wonderful, loving family interact.  It seemed so disgustingly pathetic and mushy.  It is a beautiful thing.  It angered me.  Why would witnessing so much love and comfort within a family anger me?  That doesn’t make sense.  What is so special about her that she gets so much attention?  Wasn’t I worth somebody caring about me like that?  Don’t I deserve some type of compassion or am I invisible?

I AM INVISIBLE.

I sat in sadness, remembering how I felt the day I lost Angel and the months and years that followed.  I prayed to God that these people do not have to endure what I have endured.  They asked me if I wanted to go in to see her.  I declined.  They asked why.  I simply said, “I will see her when she comes home.  Grandpa should go see her one more time before we leave.”  This day was not about me or my loss or my fears.  This day was about them and I was not going to do what my mother did and soil it for them.  It’s hard enough for them as it is.

I WILL NOT BE LIKE MY MOTHER.

I was angry because I wanted what they had, but I learned long ago that I will never have it.  My mother is my mother. Maybe she loves me but does not know how to show it.  Maybe she hates me but does not want to admit it.  Maybe she never really wanted me in the first place.  My mother is who she is and she is not going to change.  She will not be the mother that goes shopping with her daughter and has lunch on occassion.  She will not be the mother that comforts and wipes away tears.  She will never be the grandmother I had hoped my children would have, as I have most wonderful grandmothers.  I recently asked various family members if my mother had always been that way or if she just hated me.  It is not me, my aunt assured me.  My mother has always been cold.  They attribute it to her being the oldest of five and havng to do most of the work on the ranch and help with the other children.  “It is what it is”, my aunt said.  It is life.  Stop trying to make her proud.  She will never say those words.  Stop tryng to please her she will never be pleased.  Stop waiting for her to see you.

I WILL ALWAYS BE INVISIBLE TO HER

Of course, I have people in my life who care and that is great but it is not the same as having my mother be there.  At least, that’s what I think when I try to imagine how it would be if she could see me.

I have read many books that discuss the mother-daughter bond. Each time I read a different volume, unexpected tears would stream down my cheeks. For I could not recall attachment, closeness, memories of the scent of Mother’s perfume, the feel of her skin, the sound of her voice singing in the kitchen, the solace of her rocking, holding and comforting, the intellectual stimulation and joy of being read to.

via When the Mother-Daughter Bond Is Missing | Tips on Life and Love.

Mom,

If you read this…Do you read my writings?  Do you even know that I write?  This is my perspective.  This is how I feel.  Remember shortly after you and Dad divorced, on your birthday, I had Ginger’s mom bake your favorite cake, German Chocolate, for me to give you?  I made a bunch of little note cards, ‘clues’, with directions, telling you where to find the next clue.  The ‘clues’ took you to your surprise, the cake, was set up with candles for you.  I tried so hard that day to make it special and get a thank you and an I love you from you.  You didn’t even care.  You blew out the candles and then left for the bar.  Remember the pair of slippers I ave you that you turned around and gave to somebody else?  I spent a lot of time and effort picking those out for you because I love you.

MY LOVE IS UNCONDITIONAL.

You now all of my perfect, 4.0 report cards?  I worked hard to get those for you, but they never seemed good enough.  Everything I did was to please you and get you to love me.  I didn’t have to work that hard for the 4.0.  I was pretty smart.  I still am.  Did you know I was in the G.A.T.E program?  Did you know I tutored the younger grades?  Did you know I was in a lot of plays?  Did you know that I went to church almost every Sunday with Mr. and Mrs. Taylor who lived on the corner of the cul-de-sac?  Did you know the older boy, Danny Nelson, molested me in our home while you were out with whichever boyfriend?  Did you know that my brother and I were awake that night that Jerry Scangorillo (sp) raped you and we heard everything?  Why did you keep bringing strays home to live in our house, give them my bedroom and make me move into my brother’s bedroom?  I was a preteen and I needed my privacy.  You never cared to talk to me about anything, not even about my future, boys, college, sex, etc.  Yet still, I love you.  You’re my mom.

DAD TAUGHT ME UNCONDITIONAL LOVE.

Dad was there for me.  Dad was always there.  Dad loved me.  Dad taught me unconditional love.  Dad wanted me around.  I remember the first time I told you I wanted to go live with Dad.  You poured tears, accused me of not loving you, told me how much I was hurting you, asked why I wanted to break your heart and then proceeded to tell me bad things about Dad.  You made me feel guilty for loving my father and wanting him in my everyday life.  Did you know, after you moved me up north and changed my last name and forbade me to speak to Dad, that I cried myself to sleep every night because I missed him so much and it hurt so bad?  Then, you moved me to Arizona and I couldn’t take it anymore, I had to run away.  That’s why I ran away.  I couldn’t talk to you because last time I tried, you made me feel like garbage and you would never have let me go anyway.  I hid from you while Dad took care of the court paperwork.  You tried telling the judge I wasn’t old enough to choose, but he saw through you.  You couldn’t manipulate him like you could others.  You know what, maybe, just maybe, you are the first abusive relationship I have experienced.  Maybe it was you that taught me to be comfortable in bad situations and let me fall into that pattern of abusive relationships.  Yet still, I love you.  You’re my mom.

YOU’LL ALWAYS BE MY MOM.

I’LL ALWAYS LOVE YOU.

~Melissa

TELL YOUR CHILDREN THAT YOU LOVE THEM.  HUG THEM.  SHOW THEM YOU CARE.  YOU AREN’T MAKING US STRONGER BY NOT SHOWING US LOVE.  YOU ARE BREAKING US.  END THE EPIDEMIC OF BROKEN PEOPLE.

Categories: Love, Parenthood | Tags: , , , , , , , , ,

When Tragedy Strikes

    Blindsided.        
      Shock.      
    Numbness.        
        Body abandoned.    
    Eyes open slowly.        
        Disbelief.    
    What?        
      Confusion.      
    How?        
        Confirmation.    
      Why?      
        Grief.    
    Memories.        
        Healing.    
      Perspective.      
        Acceptance.    
    Release.        
      Calmness.      

                                                                                                                   Melissa Livingston

Categories: Healing, Tragedy | Tags: , , , , , , , , , , , ,