Monday, March 23, 2015

Never Daddy's Little Girl

In the typical families we are given a mother and a father and they automatically love us more than ourselves. I was never blessed to be in a typical family. Today I would like to discuss the man who sired me. He was only given one daughter in this life, and he always had the ability to make me feel worthless because I was born a girl. Life is never fair I guess. Many fathers seek to ensure that their daughters know how to live with or without them. Mine never cared enough for that. I was the child that never should have been born. He always doted on his four boys and never made them feel optional. After three and a half decades I gave up on him ever loving me, or him making me a priority in this life. I have not spoken to him in almost a year now. As I sit here tonight I realize that I have lost nothing but the feeling of inferiority. I lost the man that was my true father almost 8 years ago: my Papa. He was my grandfather and he worshiped the ground I walked on. His loss has nearly cut me in half. I digress from the point that I am attempting to make here. With my parental figure of the male gender being removed from my life I don’t have that person telling me I’ll never succeed at anything I do. I will never be reminded of the failure I had become. The other day during a restless slumber I was awaken by the telephone ringing. I never answered the call, but had the feeling that the person on the other end was telling me that he had died. I have no clue why I felt that, but I did. I became aware that his living or his dying mattered not to me. In my mind he is the monster out of a fairy tale. I will find no joy in his eventual passing, but I will feel no sorrow either. What kind of person does that make me to feel nothing to the man that provided me life? I don’t have the answer to that question and probably never will, but I’m alright with that. As long as I wish him no harm then my conscience is clean and my soul will remain intact.




Friday, March 13, 2015

From Within It Devours

I hear this voice. It screams at me, "You'll never succeed. You'll never be good enough." These words remain with me and I can do nothing to silence the echoes that remain. How do I drive them out? I think, “You are responsible for me being as I am. You created this monster that cares not if she lives or dies.” I cover my ears and I can still hear that cruel voice. I scream and the words are still there. As long as the voices remain I'm in a prison. I can't escape and am imprisoned in my own house. You see, there are no bars keeping me here, but escape is not an option. If I am let free, how would I survive? I only know abuse in my life. First it was by my abuser and then it continued in my own head. I begin to glimpse images of my childhood. I remember times the belt came down. I revisit moments where I didn’t feel that my torment would ever end and part of me prayed for death in that moment. What crime was so awful of me to bear such treatment? Visions of letting my blood flow freely torment me for I fear that is my only means of escape: death. I realize that I would not wish for another to find me in such a condition. I acknowledge the doctor prescribed me a medication to drown out this voice. What harm could come from taking the entire bottle. This can’t be an option for I risk my children finding me in such a condition and I have already failed them greatly. As I drive along I think, “I could end the suffering by swerving into oncoming traffic.” Also this can’t be a way out, because I would stand in judgment in the afterlife for taking out others in my quest to end my pain. Who would miss me if I were not here? I am nothing. I am no one. I am utterly alone in this world. The more I consider it the more I realize death may be the only escape for me. I am trapped in my past. The voices I hear are my own and from within it is devouring me. If you are told constantly that you will fail, you most certainly will. I desire the freedom to embrace the world with open arms. I realize in the end I don’t need a knight in shining armor to save me. I have it within myself. I did not survive 15 years as a victim to continue for more than 15 more. I am a fighter and I am a survivor. When I feel my strength faltering, I look into the eyes of my daughter and I realize something great. I am now aware that she is looking up to me guidance and as a role model. She does not need to see me on my knees begging for release. She deserves a mom that holds her arms in the air and screams, “Life, is that the best you can do? You hit like a little girl.”


Monday, March 9, 2015

Asking

I was once told that I had no dreams and no drive. That  statement plagues me a bit. What is the point for me to have dreams and goals if nothing goes as planned. I feel I can't win for losing. Every time I see myself succeeding someone greater than myself has other plans. I can fully admit sometimes I'm at fault, but damn for once I want just one thing in life to be simple. Is that too much to ask?

Sunday, March 8, 2015

My Immortality






It is funny how some thoughts sneak upon us and how profound they can be. I've always believed that our children are our chance at mortality. I'm not making the reference that the body will live forever but through our actions and our teachings they become a little part of us. I realized today that my daughter is my opportunity to live forever. Through her my dreams will be fulfilled because she is a part of me and my teachings.

This Driving Need





I have spent my life seeking the one thing that has always felt missing. As a child I knew that something wasn't there. I could always feel it and in my play it was not there. I began to feel this need of being someone’s main focus. When I was young I knew what was missing and never realized the impact that would have on my life. The older I became the more my need for attention grew. I would find myself in scrapes needing someone to rescue me because of my foolishness. I have always wanted to be the center of someone’s attention and it’s still there with me. The part that was missing for me was the unconditional love of one that should have given it freely. It was never mine to have. I have nearly begged and pleaded for this missing part, but I was always refused. There is a selfishness that resides there and it appears that I have inherited it. There has always been this incomplete feeling in my life that never seems to go away. As I struggle with this feeling I push others away that would love me because I still seek that something more. How does one come to terms with the constant feeling of being unloved and unwanted? As an adult this need drives me to be the center of one’s universe and it appears that will never happen. I feel second best in all things and unworthy to be loved. I feel rejected daily and it is slowly destroying me and those around me. Days when I feel like this, I wish I would sleep and never wake up. The force that keeps me getting out of bed is the knowledge that I can overcome whatever comes my way. The only question now is: how do I bury the past before it buries me?

Life's Journey



Friedrich Nietzsche said, "That which does not kill us makes us stronger."  Some days I feel that i can do this and conquer the world. Other days my faith in me becomes shaken and I wonder what's left for me to give.  At times I hear this little voice when I feel defeated that says, "Try again." 

I have reached a new point in my life where the road should feel more difficult. Many who have walked my path with me has vanished. For the most part I stand alone. A few years back I would not have been able to stand on my own. It is because of a few that I gained this strength and I salute them. I am stronger now because they showed me what I possess inside. Their time in my life's journey is done for their purpose has been fulfilled and those meant to stay continue to remain true and steady in my life. I am ready to embrace the next chapter of my life without looking back too much to the past. Look out world for here I come. Confidence is building daily.


My Ashes



I have spent so much time lately wrapped in self pity. I have made a lot of poor choices and have since punished myself for being human and making them. I have allowed little things to tip the scales to a dark place. Instead of counting the blessings placed before me I have seen the darkness. Sometimes it is easier to see the darkness versus the light. someone once told me that when one keeps making the same mistake over and over, it is no longer a mistake it is a choice. I have made some choices and those choices have hurt others. I have paid a small price for my role in that. I have lost people that have meant the world to me. I don't plan to remain in the down position. Like the Phoenix I plan to rise from the ashes and make a better life for me and those around me. Will you be there to support me or have I pushed you too far back? I am not perfect. I am human. In short I am perfectly imperfect.


Having a Safe and Healthy Relationship


I started counseling a few months ago to learn how to battle the PTSD and the depression. Yesterday my counselor asked me if I was capable of having a normal healthy relationship. All I could do was shrug. The question has plagued me since she asked the question. By definition what is a healthy relationship in this day and time? At this point I decided I needed to do some research.

A normal healthy relationship is one where both partners feel connected and supported, yet still have their own identities, Communication and boundaries are the key to a successful relationship. Communication allows both partners the ability to express their concerns without fear or judgement from the other. Communication gives the feeling of connection and allows for the celebration and of accomplishments yet is there for the moral support on the dark times. Boundaries places guidelines on what each partner feels comfortable and uncomfortable with. Boundaries states that it is not acceptable to feel the need to check up on the other partner and to limit time with others. Boundaries also keeps from the accusations of unfaithfulness and the lack of trust.

After reading all of the information I realize that I have not made a true attempt at having a healthy relationship. Communication has never been an issue for me, but boundaries apparently is something that I need to seriously work on. I trust no one completely for fear of abandonment and rejection. I feel this driving need to know where my partner is all the time and want to be right by his side at all times. Sometimes I feel it is his obligation to keep me posted out of fear that he will abandon me. I have been know to check up with his comings and goings via the internet. The next step for me is to figure out how not to be this way.

My abandonment issues will take time for me to address because I learned of abandonment at an early age and it has been a consistent issue in my life. I will shoulder some of the blame here. I keep people at arm's length so they can get close enough to hurt me. I also push people away before they can love me, because the fear of rejection is so great.

I see the challenges before me and I am not afraid to address them. One foot is in front of the other and I am moving forward. No one gets ahead in life by constantly looking backwards.




http://www.thehotline.org/is-this-abuse/healthy-relationships/

Saturday, March 7, 2015

PTSD - My Own Personal Human Bondage

I may not have gone to war to have the traumatic effects of PTSD, but I do have the emotional capacity to be a bit broken down by them. My life started out dramatically to two parents who never really gave a shit of whether I lived or died. I am uncertain if they truly didn’t care or if they were too selfish to see past their own needs. I was forced off on relatives to care for me. My grandfather was one of the gentlest souls I have ever encountered in my life. My grandmother was a polar opposite of him. She was cruel and harsh. I was raised in a god fearing home. I learned early on not to speak unless spoken to. I learned how to conceal all emotions for fear of what was to come if I was either happy or sad. If I was happy, there was something evil that I was doing to be that way. If I was sad, there was no reason to be, because I have everything that should make me happy. I hated when she would dress my hair. If I didn’t sit perfectly still, she would pull it until it would come out in her hands. On occasion she would drag me across a room by my hair. There were times when the belt would come out that I wondered if she would ever quit hitting me. I prayed for escape. I prayed that the people who gave me life would love me enough to come rescue me. My prayers went unanswered for over 15 years. In the end either God did not exist for me or else he didn’t care, because there was something evil inside of me. After 15 years of mental and physical abuse, my abuser died a horrible yet fitting death. I was horrified at her passing, not because she was gone, but because I was relieved that she was gone. What kind of person was I to be glad that she was dead? Did that truly make me into an evil monster that she thought of me? Over the next 15 years of my life, out of guilt I think, I picked up where she left off. I never harmed myself physically, but mentally I abused myself. I didn’t care if I lived or died, because no one would notice if I was gone. I would tell myself that I could never do anything right and I would fail at anything that I did. I have used the term underachiever, but I believe that is a lie I tell myself. I have self sabotaged every aspect of my life. I have run people off before they have the chance to love me and seriously hurt me. How could I allow anyone to get close to me, when those who were meant to love me more than life itself never gave a damn? At nearly 37 years old I still huddle in a corner when people act aggressively around me. There are still the moments when the self abuse comes to light and it is typically when things don’t go the way I wish them to. I wish there was a switch that I could turn off to get through everything negative that has happened in my life, but I am not foolish enough to believe that. I know it will take work and time. It is something that I need, but more importantly my children need. I need to be the example of a strong and thriving woman for my daughter so she can become one also. Will I ever get past the abuse both mental and physical? I don't know, but I will not quit until there is no breath left in my body.




Saving the World: One Post at a Time

As a child I dreamed of saving the world. I thought that I would enter the peace corp and try to make a difference on a grand scale. After years of mental, physical, and sexual abuse, my drive to make a difference was depleted. I think I entered a self preservation mode for many years. How could I help others when I could barely get out of bed myself? In life I settled for the simple and whatever would keep my demons quiet. On the show Buffy: The Vampire Slayer there was an evil that wanted to rise up. The statement from that was: "From within it devours." That statement has stuck with me for years now. For me it has a significant meaning. My depression eats me from the inside out. Over the years I settled to become a special needs mom and battle the daily struggles my children face. If you are wonder why I say settled, I will tell you. This was not the grand scheme I envisioned for myself. Fighting for my children and their successes comes as natural as breathing. I still dream of making a difference in the lives of others. When I am dead I want to be remembered as the one who tried to make a difference in the lives of those I encountered. Through the abuse I came out stronger and more determined than I ever dreamed to be. I have the ability to help others by telling my stories and getting them out there for the world to see. If through me another finds an ounce of strength that they were lacking then I have accomplished something. At this stage in life I refuse to allow self sabotage to come into play. I plan to save those I can one post at a time.


Friday, March 6, 2015

Bobby: The Missing Piece of Me

Bobby was my oldest brother and probably the best of all of us. Today is the anniversary of his death. Every year on this day I mourn the brother I lost and never had the chance to meet. He has been gone now for 28 years. I miss the brother I was cheated out of knowing. I will always wonder what he would have been like. I wonder if he would have worshiped his baby sister and if his baby sister would have worshiped him. He was a warrior yet cancer took him from me at the age of 16. Robert Price, I will miss you until the last breath leaves my body for you are the missing piece of me.