Wow, it's been a while since I've sat down at this laptop and blogged. I'm not exactly sure what's brought me here today but something was nagging at me. Maybe subconsciously I have something to say and this is the place to put the words out in the open. I've always found writing to be quite therapeutic.
It's been almost 6 years since my ex-husband and I split. I've faced more than my fair share of challenges in the adventure I call my life. I've struggled with relationships and being a single parent. I've struggled financially, emotionally, physically and mentally. For the majority, I've faced my struggles alone. I think deep down inside, I chose to face them alone. In doing so, there's no chance to be let down or disappointed by the actions of another person. Sometimes it's just better that way, right? As my "therapist" says, I have a tendency to self sabotage my life and my relationships. I have this, "I'll hurt you before you hurt me mentality." I guess that's just the defense mechanism I've managed to conjure up in my head within the last half a decade. It did it's job. I successfully remained completely single for 6 years. Sense my sarcasm?? I spent so much time being skeptical and cynical, that I forgot to slow down and smell the roses. I kind of feel sorry for those who have legitimately tried to get to know me. I had this wall up the size of a small country... without the perfect set of keys, no one was allowed to break the barrier. Which leads me to this....
Somewhere in this so called tragic roller coaster ride I call my life, God gave me a fairytale. Yup. Out of nowhere came this guy with the perfect set of keys that fit my safety net. He came in quickly...he became my rock. He soothed my fears, dissected my problems...he became my protector and provider. I sit back and giggle a little bit because he knows me. He knows my quirks, my thoughts and even my emotions just by reading my text messages. He's the one person that I know in my heart of hearts will never leave me... He's no quitter. He's strong, amazing and willing to go to bat for little ole me...the one person who I thought wasn't worth any man's time. I say all this with 100 percent certainty. There's no nagging voice in my head that says he's going to hurt me. There's no hesitations or second guessing when it comes to him... There's nothing but trust. Trust that he's the man I've always prayed for. Trust that he'll move a mountain to make sure I'm OK. Trust that he's my...everything. "They" say time heals all wounds... I say the right person willing to be patient does.
So, where am I now? Hmmm... I'd say, for the majority, I'm in a good space. I'm a work in progress. I can't say I'm "better" or "well"... however, I can say I'm better than yesterday but not as good as I can be tomorrow. I can go back and reread the chapters of my life but I'll never be able to rewrite them. The things I've experienced, happened. As brutal and sad as the reality is, they occurred. They'll forever be tattooed in my mind. However, I've decided to erase them from my heart. I'm turning new chapters. New chapters filled with positive adventures and energy. Trust me, I struggle every day. I try my best to put the negativity from my mind. I'm just very blessed to have someone in my life willing to be patient and realize that underneath this exterior, there's a woman who just wants to be happy. There's a woman inside me that's trying her damndest to break out of this untrusting exterior. I'm so very thankful for the chance he gave to me. I'm thankful that through all my "thinking" and "over thinking" that he's willing to fight for me. I'm thankful that he sees what others in the past haven't seen... for that, I can't do anything but smile :-)
Friday, March 22, 2013
Friday, July 29, 2011
A Father's Worth
This blog probably has nothing to do with the physical pain I went through when I was with my children's father, but, I think it fits nicely into the topic of domestic violence.
For the past week or so I've been feeling really bad because I'm unable to provide financially for my children. We struggle daily for basic necessities like toilet paper, sneakers and clothes. Now that school is upon us, so are the stresses of September birthdays, school shopping...and eventually the holidays. I get down on myself quite frequently because as a mother, I should be able to provide these things. Ask me how I've managed to keep my lights on and I'll tell you by the grace of God. I've become quite good at surviving by bare minimals...after my calculations, I'm not ashamed to say that my bills equal approximately $200 a month...and that's on a bad month. However, what kind of parent am I where I can't come up with $200 dollars? More times than not, I feel like the scum of the earth...inadequate...useless...pathetic..and shameful.
I know if I were healthy, I wouldn't be in this position. I'd be able to work and give my babies everything that they need. BUT...circumstances have dictated that it's not possible. I'd trade my illness for the opportunity to walk out my door on any given day to work. Alas, my colon less body forbids it. It would rather have me vomit in the morning because my stomach refuses to digest my meal from the night before, and have me in the bathroom all day because my body can't or just won't digest any form of healthy food...than to lead any kind of functioning life. Just in case the thought popped in your head that I'm just lazy...please dismiss it because lazy, I am not.
Fast forward through my disability denials and the denials of any state aid because bureaucracy is the wart on the ass of society...Apparently a doctor saying that I'm unable to work just isn't good enough for the Gods of social services. According to them, I'm not disabled because Social Security has yet to deem me disabled. While I'm being denied help..A) my kids go without, and B) I can't afford the $15 dollars I need to pick up my 5 prescriptions that I desperately need to function on a 10% level...which I've been without for the past 2 months. However, my needs are a mute point at this time.
Fast forward again, to the actual purpose of this post... My children's father's inability to act and do as a father should. If he would put on his big boy undies and act like a 49 year old man, instead of 20 year old child, maybe...just maybe...my kids would have the things that they need. Since when is it only one parent's responsibility to provide for any child? If that was the case, I would have gotten myself pregnant. So, because said "loser" would rather smoke crack, beat his girlfriend and drink himself to death, MY kids go without. He'd rather go to prison at the age of 49 than act like a grown man and take care of his responsibilities. If people would stop enabling his sorry ass, maybe he'd have to stand on his two feet. Please save the, "OMG, I can't believe she just said that" speech because ya'll know it happens. He deserves to be humiliated. He deserves to have people look at him like HE'S the scum of the earth...inadequate...useless...pathetic...and shameful. He's lucky I don't plaster his name and social security number all over my blog and say, have at it...BUT I'm not like that. I have a good heart. I do the things I have to do as a parent. I provide EVERYTHING within my means for my children. I DO IT!! I may feel bad because I wish I could do more...I may feel worthless and shameful..but I know in my heart of hearts...I'd do anything for my kids. I may not be able to sleep at night because I worry constantly about them; but, as long as I know I did what I could for that day, my guilt is forgiven. I wonder how many men can say the same.
In the words of Albany County Family Court Judge Margaret T. Walsh, "You can't make a man be a father."
No, you can't, but you can make him pay for his children.
So I ask the question, "What is my children's father's worth?" Please don't have me answer. He's right up there next to my biological father...
For the past week or so I've been feeling really bad because I'm unable to provide financially for my children. We struggle daily for basic necessities like toilet paper, sneakers and clothes. Now that school is upon us, so are the stresses of September birthdays, school shopping...and eventually the holidays. I get down on myself quite frequently because as a mother, I should be able to provide these things. Ask me how I've managed to keep my lights on and I'll tell you by the grace of God. I've become quite good at surviving by bare minimals...after my calculations, I'm not ashamed to say that my bills equal approximately $200 a month...and that's on a bad month. However, what kind of parent am I where I can't come up with $200 dollars? More times than not, I feel like the scum of the earth...inadequate...useless...pathetic..and shameful.
I know if I were healthy, I wouldn't be in this position. I'd be able to work and give my babies everything that they need. BUT...circumstances have dictated that it's not possible. I'd trade my illness for the opportunity to walk out my door on any given day to work. Alas, my colon less body forbids it. It would rather have me vomit in the morning because my stomach refuses to digest my meal from the night before, and have me in the bathroom all day because my body can't or just won't digest any form of healthy food...than to lead any kind of functioning life. Just in case the thought popped in your head that I'm just lazy...please dismiss it because lazy, I am not.
Fast forward through my disability denials and the denials of any state aid because bureaucracy is the wart on the ass of society...Apparently a doctor saying that I'm unable to work just isn't good enough for the Gods of social services. According to them, I'm not disabled because Social Security has yet to deem me disabled. While I'm being denied help..A) my kids go without, and B) I can't afford the $15 dollars I need to pick up my 5 prescriptions that I desperately need to function on a 10% level...which I've been without for the past 2 months. However, my needs are a mute point at this time.
Fast forward again, to the actual purpose of this post... My children's father's inability to act and do as a father should. If he would put on his big boy undies and act like a 49 year old man, instead of 20 year old child, maybe...just maybe...my kids would have the things that they need. Since when is it only one parent's responsibility to provide for any child? If that was the case, I would have gotten myself pregnant. So, because said "loser" would rather smoke crack, beat his girlfriend and drink himself to death, MY kids go without. He'd rather go to prison at the age of 49 than act like a grown man and take care of his responsibilities. If people would stop enabling his sorry ass, maybe he'd have to stand on his two feet. Please save the, "OMG, I can't believe she just said that" speech because ya'll know it happens. He deserves to be humiliated. He deserves to have people look at him like HE'S the scum of the earth...inadequate...useless...pathetic...and shameful. He's lucky I don't plaster his name and social security number all over my blog and say, have at it...BUT I'm not like that. I have a good heart. I do the things I have to do as a parent. I provide EVERYTHING within my means for my children. I DO IT!! I may feel bad because I wish I could do more...I may feel worthless and shameful..but I know in my heart of hearts...I'd do anything for my kids. I may not be able to sleep at night because I worry constantly about them; but, as long as I know I did what I could for that day, my guilt is forgiven. I wonder how many men can say the same.
In the words of Albany County Family Court Judge Margaret T. Walsh, "You can't make a man be a father."
No, you can't, but you can make him pay for his children.
So I ask the question, "What is my children's father's worth?" Please don't have me answer. He's right up there next to my biological father...
Thursday, July 7, 2011
Fooled Yet Again...
As much as we'd like to believe that our past experiences help us make better decisions in the future, I'm here to officially say that's not always the case. Unbeknownst to most of my friends, up until a few short weeks ago, I was seeing this guy for a while. After I left my ex husband, I promised myself that I'd never let another man abuse me; whether it be physical, emotional or sexual abuse, it was never going to happen to me again. Well, in theory that sounds like a splendid plan. Can't you just see the headlines? "Woman leaves abusive ex-husband a stronger and better person," Yeah, not so much. I found myself in a "relationship" with someone who never physically harmed me; but, would mentally torment me. I wasn't skinny enough, smart enough, wealthy enough or beautiful enough. I wasn't all the things that he hoped I'd be. I wasn't perfect. I somehow mustered up the strength to end it before it turned physical...but I sit here with even more emotional scars and mental wounds.
I applaud women who are strong enough to realize that they're worth so much more. I wish with everything in my soul that I was one of them. My life is filled with so many broken dreams, broken promises and empty words. Do I have a sign on my heart that says, use and abuse me?
I don't know what hurts worse. Is it the fact that I actually believe all those things or is it the fact that I learned absolutely nothing from my ex? Do I want to be loved so much that I'd sacrifice myself for it? Am I destined to be this pathetic weak woman that others see me as? I can't seem to see past the nose on my face tonight...I feel so alone surrounded by so many good people.
What scares me the most is, no matter how hard I try, I can't seem to figure this out.
I applaud women who are strong enough to realize that they're worth so much more. I wish with everything in my soul that I was one of them. My life is filled with so many broken dreams, broken promises and empty words. Do I have a sign on my heart that says, use and abuse me?
I don't know what hurts worse. Is it the fact that I actually believe all those things or is it the fact that I learned absolutely nothing from my ex? Do I want to be loved so much that I'd sacrifice myself for it? Am I destined to be this pathetic weak woman that others see me as? I can't seem to see past the nose on my face tonight...I feel so alone surrounded by so many good people.
What scares me the most is, no matter how hard I try, I can't seem to figure this out.
Saturday, April 16, 2011
Unworthy
I had no intention of blogging today but something has been bothering me for a while and I really needed to express myself.
When I met my ex husband all those years ago, he promised to love, honor and cherish me. He promised to never hurt me. He was my protector...my knight in shining armor. The day I realized those were merely just words was the day I lost trust in men. Of course, years after the fact, I've come to the realization that not all men are the devils spawn and one day God would bless me with someone that is true to his word; someone who would know a beautiful, honest and loving woman when he saw her. He would, by my imagination, be my knight in shining armor. He'd say all the right things and do all the right things. He'd love me unconditionally because he would know that I'm sincere and good. Of course we all know that fantasies like that don't happen in real life. My life story is nothing compared to The Notebook or PS. I Love You. It closely resembles that of Tina Turner (of course, I can't sing, don't have fantastic legs or am wealthy enough to buy myself happiness). It's a train wreck with speed bumps and flat tires. Anyways, I'm veering from the purpose of this blog...
Although I've yet to find my prince charming, I fear that when he finally shows up, I'll feel unworthy of all his goodness. I fear that all those feelings of worthlessness will be there waiting to sabotage the beautiful future that I've been dreaming of. I hesitate to reach out for fear of failure. I fear that good things are always a mirage and as soon as I reach out to take a drink, I'll be drinking sand. Why? If you're told long enough that you don't deserve it, chances are you start to believe that you don't. The mind can be a terrible thing. It can twist your words and harden your heart. It can make you believe things that aren't there. You can tell me a million times that God wants me to be happy. You can tell me that I'm a beautiful person and I deserve all the happiness in the world, BUT his words resonate in my mind as if they're a tattoo on my skin; there and unable to be removed. You're not worthy. No one will ever love you. What man will want you? No man in his right mind would ever be with a woman with 5 kids. You're updateable. You're not the girl a man takes home to mom. Oh, I've heard them all. What are the chances they'd all be wrong? There has to be some truth in there right? They can't all be wrong. Even if I could remove the feelings of unworthiness, who's to say my feelings of inadequacies don't shine like a beacon on a dark night?
I refrain from looking at myself in the mirror because I hate to see the person looking back at me. I don't see a spark of life. I don't see a future of beautiful days. I see sorrow and pain. I see wishful thinking and days that never come. I see a broken and empty soul. A heart shattered into unfixable pieces. It's days like today that I feel so helpless and alone...unappreciated and desperate to be fixed. Oh how I wish all of this would disappear. I'd give all of my worldly possessions, as few as they are, to be just like you. I'd love to enjoy the sunshine with my whole being and not just the exterior. It's very easy to mask your true feelings behind the facade of "happiness". It's easy to smile, but inside feel like you're suffocating. Debbie, just smile and pretend that it doesn't hurt. Pretend like you're as happy as other people want you to be.
I've spent so much time rolling with the punches that I feel the weight of the world on my shoulders. I'd give anything to feel content and free. Free to love the way I want; content to exhale. Being a domestic violence survivor is a heavy burden to carry. The emotional wounds bury themselves deep into the soul of a woman. Survival is an ongoing process. You don't wake up one morning and say, I'm better and this doesn't bother me any longer. It takes time and patience.
When I met my ex husband all those years ago, he promised to love, honor and cherish me. He promised to never hurt me. He was my protector...my knight in shining armor. The day I realized those were merely just words was the day I lost trust in men. Of course, years after the fact, I've come to the realization that not all men are the devils spawn and one day God would bless me with someone that is true to his word; someone who would know a beautiful, honest and loving woman when he saw her. He would, by my imagination, be my knight in shining armor. He'd say all the right things and do all the right things. He'd love me unconditionally because he would know that I'm sincere and good. Of course we all know that fantasies like that don't happen in real life. My life story is nothing compared to The Notebook or PS. I Love You. It closely resembles that of Tina Turner (of course, I can't sing, don't have fantastic legs or am wealthy enough to buy myself happiness). It's a train wreck with speed bumps and flat tires. Anyways, I'm veering from the purpose of this blog...
Although I've yet to find my prince charming, I fear that when he finally shows up, I'll feel unworthy of all his goodness. I fear that all those feelings of worthlessness will be there waiting to sabotage the beautiful future that I've been dreaming of. I hesitate to reach out for fear of failure. I fear that good things are always a mirage and as soon as I reach out to take a drink, I'll be drinking sand. Why? If you're told long enough that you don't deserve it, chances are you start to believe that you don't. The mind can be a terrible thing. It can twist your words and harden your heart. It can make you believe things that aren't there. You can tell me a million times that God wants me to be happy. You can tell me that I'm a beautiful person and I deserve all the happiness in the world, BUT his words resonate in my mind as if they're a tattoo on my skin; there and unable to be removed. You're not worthy. No one will ever love you. What man will want you? No man in his right mind would ever be with a woman with 5 kids. You're updateable. You're not the girl a man takes home to mom. Oh, I've heard them all. What are the chances they'd all be wrong? There has to be some truth in there right? They can't all be wrong. Even if I could remove the feelings of unworthiness, who's to say my feelings of inadequacies don't shine like a beacon on a dark night?
I refrain from looking at myself in the mirror because I hate to see the person looking back at me. I don't see a spark of life. I don't see a future of beautiful days. I see sorrow and pain. I see wishful thinking and days that never come. I see a broken and empty soul. A heart shattered into unfixable pieces. It's days like today that I feel so helpless and alone...unappreciated and desperate to be fixed. Oh how I wish all of this would disappear. I'd give all of my worldly possessions, as few as they are, to be just like you. I'd love to enjoy the sunshine with my whole being and not just the exterior. It's very easy to mask your true feelings behind the facade of "happiness". It's easy to smile, but inside feel like you're suffocating. Debbie, just smile and pretend that it doesn't hurt. Pretend like you're as happy as other people want you to be.
I've spent so much time rolling with the punches that I feel the weight of the world on my shoulders. I'd give anything to feel content and free. Free to love the way I want; content to exhale. Being a domestic violence survivor is a heavy burden to carry. The emotional wounds bury themselves deep into the soul of a woman. Survival is an ongoing process. You don't wake up one morning and say, I'm better and this doesn't bother me any longer. It takes time and patience.
Saturday, April 9, 2011
The Hardest Part...
If I had to sit here and contemplate what the hardest part of this whole ordeal is, I'd have to say looking my kids in the face and feeling so much guilt and shame inside. Guilt for staying so long. Shame for not being strong enough to leave. Guilt for seeing all the trials and tribulations they go through. Shame for not speaking up for myself. Guilt for not...picking the right father for them. It's true what "they" say. Guilt and regret will break you down until you can't see the light at the end of the tunnel. It's so easy to say, it's not my fault or he did this to me. However, the reality of the situation is, you can say it until you're blue in the face but it won't make you believe it. You have to feel it. As of yet, I don't feel anything but negative. Sometimes I just sit here and wish I didn't feel at all. It would be so much easier if it all just went away. I want it to disappear like the stars when the sun peaks over the horizon to say good morning.
The warning signs were always there. Maybe I wanted to love so badly that I was willing to overlook them. Maybe I wanted the fairy tale ending that you see in the movies. My favorite by far is Pretty Woman. Who wouldn't want Richard Gere showing up on their fire escape, in all his glory, telling you he's your knight in shining armor? Eh, maybe not Richard Gere...I'll take Shemar Moore instead :o) Anyways...
Did I want to love so badly that I overlooked the needs of my children? I was so busy worrying about my own hopes and dreams that I forgot about theirs. I robbed my daughter of her precious childhood. She lost her faith, hope and trust because I wanted to love... because I wanted my fairy tale. Instead of worrying about what she was going to wear to school, she was worried about protecting me and her brothers and sister. Instead of wishing for the latest toy or book, she was wishing for a "normal" family. How do I, as a mother, get over that guilt? How do I move to space where I can look at myself in the mirror and say, I did the best I could? Deep down inside I feel like a failure. I feel like the lowest of the low. My son struggles everyday with PTSD/ADHD. He struggles in school. He struggles at home. He struggles to control his emotions. My beautiful boy feels like the world is on his shoulders...and it's my fault. How do I talk to him and say, it's going to be ok, when I don't know if it will? How do I look at him and not feel ashamed? I did this to him. I could have prevented all of this...if I were stronger. I teach my kids that they should always take responsibility for their actions. Well, it was my responsibility to protect them. It was my responsibility to let them be little. Let them be happy and carefree. I'm taking responsibility and it's a hard dose of medicine to swallow.
This is no pity party. I don't feel sorry for myself. I'm not looking for sympathy. I'm saying this so you won't have to. I hope my words can save you from a lifetime of guilt and shame. I'm saying this so you can look at your child and see the sparkle of innocence in their eyes; not the dull ember of a lost childhood.
Don't stay because you love him. Leave him because you love your children more. Maybe if I took my own advice, my heart wouldn't be so heavy.
The warning signs were always there. Maybe I wanted to love so badly that I was willing to overlook them. Maybe I wanted the fairy tale ending that you see in the movies. My favorite by far is Pretty Woman. Who wouldn't want Richard Gere showing up on their fire escape, in all his glory, telling you he's your knight in shining armor? Eh, maybe not Richard Gere...I'll take Shemar Moore instead :o) Anyways...
Did I want to love so badly that I overlooked the needs of my children? I was so busy worrying about my own hopes and dreams that I forgot about theirs. I robbed my daughter of her precious childhood. She lost her faith, hope and trust because I wanted to love... because I wanted my fairy tale. Instead of worrying about what she was going to wear to school, she was worried about protecting me and her brothers and sister. Instead of wishing for the latest toy or book, she was wishing for a "normal" family. How do I, as a mother, get over that guilt? How do I move to space where I can look at myself in the mirror and say, I did the best I could? Deep down inside I feel like a failure. I feel like the lowest of the low. My son struggles everyday with PTSD/ADHD. He struggles in school. He struggles at home. He struggles to control his emotions. My beautiful boy feels like the world is on his shoulders...and it's my fault. How do I talk to him and say, it's going to be ok, when I don't know if it will? How do I look at him and not feel ashamed? I did this to him. I could have prevented all of this...if I were stronger. I teach my kids that they should always take responsibility for their actions. Well, it was my responsibility to protect them. It was my responsibility to let them be little. Let them be happy and carefree. I'm taking responsibility and it's a hard dose of medicine to swallow.
This is no pity party. I don't feel sorry for myself. I'm not looking for sympathy. I'm saying this so you won't have to. I hope my words can save you from a lifetime of guilt and shame. I'm saying this so you can look at your child and see the sparkle of innocence in their eyes; not the dull ember of a lost childhood.
Don't stay because you love him. Leave him because you love your children more. Maybe if I took my own advice, my heart wouldn't be so heavy.
“See that you do not despise one of these little ones. For I tell you that in heaven their angels always see the face of my Father who is in heaven." Matthew 18:10
Monday, March 14, 2011
It Always Creeps Back In...
I spend a lot of time trying to push the memories back to the farthest recesses of my mind. I would love to just sit here oblivious to it all. Just when I think I've got it all under control and I'm cruising along as if the world is my oyster, it all comes creeping back in. It creeps in like a virus, killing everything good in its path. It creeps in like a snake, sucking the life out of its prey. It makes me sick. It makes me hate my existence. Who would have thought almost two decades after the fact I'd still be sitting here feeling so much agony. I just want to scream. I'm doing everything I'm supposed to. What is wrong with me?? Why won't it just go away?
The isolation I feel is unbareable. I sometimes wonder what other people think of me. More times than not, I just hide in my apartment not wanting to be seen or heard. My phone rings and I'll let it keep ringing because I'm not sure what to say as my mind has been buried in bad memories. Lately I try to remain positive so others can stop whispering...Why doesn't she stop complaining? Little do they know I'd give up every thing I have to be just like you.
I can't look at myself. I can't think. I can't speak. All I can do is remember all those awful things. I remember so much heartache and pain. I remember begging and pleading. I remember wishing that it would all go away. How much longer will I be this way? "They" said, just leave. It'll get better. What did "they" know? They weren't me. How come “they” give advice and have never walked a day in my shoes? Let this be a lesson to you. It's easier to be "them" than it is to be you. They don’t sit here when Isaiah cries because he hears a police siren. They aren’t here when Nate looks at me as if I’m really that crazy bitch his father said I was. They aren’t here when Elijah retells stories of how his father got drunk and slammed him against the wall because he peed to bed. Time heals all wounds... really?? How much time? Months? Years? Decades?? In my world time stands still. Time isn’t healing the knot in my stomach tonight. I feel like I'd rather rip my heart out than feel one more ounce of pain? How come the tears are flowing and I hate myself because I'm not strong enough to stop them?
Have you ever taken a bath and put your head under the water? What do you hear? Your own heart beating? Silence? I take a bubble bath every night because it’s the only time in the day when I hear nothing. I literally drown out the voices and the memories by listening to the deafening silence of nothingness. I lie there with my head submerged in water, listening. to. nothing.
“They” say it takes a smart man to learn from his mistakes and it takes a wise man to learn from the mistakes of others. Let this be a lesson...It hurts. The whole process hurts. It hurts to live with him. It hurts to see your kids suffer. It hurts to leave. It hurts to move on. It hurts to admit failure. It hurts 3 years later. The whole stinking thing hurts. Every time the memories come back I feel like I'm reliving it all again. Why do I give him so much power? It's simple. I loved with all my heart. When you love with everything you have, you don't expect it to fall apart. You don't anticipate the bottom falling out. When it happens, there isn't anything you can do but fall. I honestly don't think I'll ever love again. I'd rather build this wall as tall as I can and keep them all out. It's better that way. Right? If I keep them out, they can't hurt me. Hopefully, this way I can avoid repeating the ugly process of loving and being let down.
The isolation I feel is unbareable. I sometimes wonder what other people think of me. More times than not, I just hide in my apartment not wanting to be seen or heard. My phone rings and I'll let it keep ringing because I'm not sure what to say as my mind has been buried in bad memories. Lately I try to remain positive so others can stop whispering...Why doesn't she stop complaining? Little do they know I'd give up every thing I have to be just like you.
I can't look at myself. I can't think. I can't speak. All I can do is remember all those awful things. I remember so much heartache and pain. I remember begging and pleading. I remember wishing that it would all go away. How much longer will I be this way? "They" said, just leave. It'll get better. What did "they" know? They weren't me. How come “they” give advice and have never walked a day in my shoes? Let this be a lesson to you. It's easier to be "them" than it is to be you. They don’t sit here when Isaiah cries because he hears a police siren. They aren’t here when Nate looks at me as if I’m really that crazy bitch his father said I was. They aren’t here when Elijah retells stories of how his father got drunk and slammed him against the wall because he peed to bed. Time heals all wounds... really?? How much time? Months? Years? Decades?? In my world time stands still. Time isn’t healing the knot in my stomach tonight. I feel like I'd rather rip my heart out than feel one more ounce of pain? How come the tears are flowing and I hate myself because I'm not strong enough to stop them?
Have you ever taken a bath and put your head under the water? What do you hear? Your own heart beating? Silence? I take a bubble bath every night because it’s the only time in the day when I hear nothing. I literally drown out the voices and the memories by listening to the deafening silence of nothingness. I lie there with my head submerged in water, listening. to. nothing.
“They” say it takes a smart man to learn from his mistakes and it takes a wise man to learn from the mistakes of others. Let this be a lesson...It hurts. The whole process hurts. It hurts to live with him. It hurts to see your kids suffer. It hurts to leave. It hurts to move on. It hurts to admit failure. It hurts 3 years later. The whole stinking thing hurts. Every time the memories come back I feel like I'm reliving it all again. Why do I give him so much power? It's simple. I loved with all my heart. When you love with everything you have, you don't expect it to fall apart. You don't anticipate the bottom falling out. When it happens, there isn't anything you can do but fall. I honestly don't think I'll ever love again. I'd rather build this wall as tall as I can and keep them all out. It's better that way. Right? If I keep them out, they can't hurt me. Hopefully, this way I can avoid repeating the ugly process of loving and being let down.
People are like stained-glass windows. They sparkle and shine when the sun is out, but when the darkness sets in their true beauty is revealed only if there is light from within. ~Elisabeth Kübler-Ross
Tonight, I'm having a really hard time finding that light within.....
Monday, February 28, 2011
What Children Want
I was awake most of the night thinking about my kids and how I still feel that I let them down because I didn't leave their father soon enough. In keeping with my therapist's wishes, I try to downplay my guilt because I was traumatized. In his words, a traumatized woman thinks with a traumatized mind. Of course this only works for so long. Guilt will make the strongest individual fall to their knees and quit. Sometimes it's so hard to sit here, miles away from my family and say I made the right decision. Don't get me wrong, I love my new found friends and family...I have some of the best in Charlotte :o) My church is amazing and so giving, and even the strangers I've encountered have blessed me beyond words. However, my invisible enemy, guilt, won't let me be.
In order to keep myself from falling to my knees yet again, I've come up with a small list of what children want and don't want. For all you woman who struggle with the decisions you made and wonder if they were the rights ones for you and your family, please pay close attention.
Children want happiness
Children want safety
Children want support
Children want love
Children want kindness
Children want time on mommy's lap
Children want hugs and kisses goodnight
Children want a mommy and not a best friend
Children want to live in peace
Children want to be heard
Children want comfort
Children want understanding
Children want to know that their mommy is safe
Children want to live free of fear
Children want honesty
Children want approval
Children want acceptance
Children want fairness
Children want praise
Most of all, children would rather live a lifetime in poverty then live one day without their mommy.
The last one resonates with me constantly. I see it everyday with my children. We don't have the things we used to. They don't have the best toys or the nicest clothes. They don't have a big house and we don't drive a fancy car. However, if you ask them what they want, it's not a bigger tv or the latest toy. They want their mommy. They want me to tuck them in at night, tell them I love them and kiss them on their eyes, nose, mouth cheeks, forehead and ears :o) They want mommy to say their bedtime prayer with them and kiss all their stuffed animal friends before I leave their bedroom. They want their mommy to fix their cereal for breakfast and take them to the park in the afternoon. They want mommy to kiss their boo boos and high five them when they bring home passing grades.
So before you beat yourself up about the decision to leave...or you have guilt about barely having enough money for bills...look at your beautiful children and think about what they really want. They want you. If you stayed in your abusive relationship, chances are they wouldn't have you for very long.
I'd like to leave you with these little thoughts
(Matthew 18:1-3) At that time the disciples came to Jesus, saying, “Who is the greatest in the kingdom of heaven?” And calling to him a child, he put him in the midst of them and said, “Truly, I say to you, unless you turn and become like children, you will never enter the kingdom of heaven.
In order to keep myself from falling to my knees yet again, I've come up with a small list of what children want and don't want. For all you woman who struggle with the decisions you made and wonder if they were the rights ones for you and your family, please pay close attention.
Children want happiness
Children want safety
Children want support
Children want love
Children want kindness
Children want time on mommy's lap
Children want hugs and kisses goodnight
Children want a mommy and not a best friend
Children want to live in peace
Children want to be heard
Children want comfort
Children want understanding
Children want to know that their mommy is safe
Children want to live free of fear
Children want honesty
Children want approval
Children want acceptance
Children want fairness
Children want praise
Most of all, children would rather live a lifetime in poverty then live one day without their mommy.
The last one resonates with me constantly. I see it everyday with my children. We don't have the things we used to. They don't have the best toys or the nicest clothes. They don't have a big house and we don't drive a fancy car. However, if you ask them what they want, it's not a bigger tv or the latest toy. They want their mommy. They want me to tuck them in at night, tell them I love them and kiss them on their eyes, nose, mouth cheeks, forehead and ears :o) They want mommy to say their bedtime prayer with them and kiss all their stuffed animal friends before I leave their bedroom. They want their mommy to fix their cereal for breakfast and take them to the park in the afternoon. They want mommy to kiss their boo boos and high five them when they bring home passing grades.
So before you beat yourself up about the decision to leave...or you have guilt about barely having enough money for bills...look at your beautiful children and think about what they really want. They want you. If you stayed in your abusive relationship, chances are they wouldn't have you for very long.
I'd like to leave you with these little thoughts
(Psalm 127:3-5) Behold, children are a heritage from the Lord, the fruit of the womb a reward. Like arrows in the hand of a warrior are the children of one's youth. Blessed is the man who fills his quiver with them! He shall not be put to shame when he speaks with his enemies in the gate.
(John 16:21) When a woman is giving birth, she has sorrow because her hour has come, but when she has delivered the baby, she no longer remembers the anguish, for joy that a human being has been born into the world.
(Matthew 18:1-3) At that time the disciples came to Jesus, saying, “Who is the greatest in the kingdom of heaven?” And calling to him a child, he put him in the midst of them and said, “Truly, I say to you, unless you turn and become like children, you will never enter the kingdom of heaven.
(Proverbs 22:6) Train up a child in the way he should go; even when he is old he will not depart from it.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)