Posts Tagged With: Disbelief

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: , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , ,

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: , , , , , , , , , , , ,