Tally Marks

Yes if you only knew the number of times that my body and soul survived rape after brutal rape; so much violation before I had a fighting chance at life. My body was a battleground and  would be covered in tally marks from head to toe with close to no space in between.  This was just my life. Every inch of my soul inside and out would be covered in such evilness.  Here it is in black and white.So wonder why I am quiet, why I am the way that I am. Why I watch everything, why I do things differently, why I feel and care just a little bit more for others in this life. These tally marks are the reason why. I never want another living soul to feel and experience the lonesomeness that I have had to experience. This is what there is; a sad in my soul that often goes beyond words, and is so complete and deep, that I can not even comprehend it myself.  This is why. Because I never knew at any day and time, if I was really going to make it. I knew that I had to much to do so I survived and refused to let them win, but the cost to me was unimaginable. Along the way I did the things I had to do to breathe for another day. I smiled along the way, I tried to do normal things, fit in and pretend that the damage doesn't exist. I tried so hard.  With this many marks all over you , it makes a person different , it makes a person fatally flawed and changes them forever. All the try in the world can not undo what was done.

The problem is in the scars that are left behind. The things I can't forget, the memories that remain pictures forever ingrained in my mind. The yellow comforter, the light in the hall, that looming man above me. That bright playground picture on the wall , that your mind goes to and tries to hide behind the rocks. The fear of getting under the covers maybe just maybe if I didn't make any wrinkles in the covers I wouldn't be hurt that night, Maybe I would be invisible and he wouldn't want to unmake the bed.  The fear of knowing what was going to happen and knowing how my body would hurt.  Being worried about hiding the evidence; sneaking to the trash outside to throw away the bloody underwear. Even worrying about the squeaky door what would be the excuse I would have to give, why was I going outside?  I can still  remember the cold  on my feet, and just how fast that my heart was racing.  I felt as if I was the one who had done something so wrong.  There are some pictures that remain whether my eyes are open or closed.  Sometimes I feel the memories in my bones,  I feel their actual weight, I feel the moments that I went away I remember that very last moment and just like that the lights go out. There are times its a feeling that I can't explain and I just want to get as far away from the feeling as possible. Other times I am enveloped, and the tears flow.  Sometimes the nightmares are so vivid that I wake up fighting, hitting my own legs, scratching my arms. I wake up looking for a safe place only to realize I am 45 and I am in my own safe bed. The nightmares like that, often take hours to get away from, sometimes a day or two.  Sometimes in my mind there will be a tally mark on repeat and I can't find my way out .  I repeat what happened thinking if I had done this or that, I could have saved myself this one time. So often the tally marks blend into each other, just another rape just another intrusion in sleep, such a toll on a little girl.  It happens, clean up and go back to bed.  A day in the life. Its the ones that stand out , where every detail burns in my heart and soul that spin in my mind wanting them to be nicer, wishing I was heard, wanting someone to save me.

I know that there is no "saving me" I do,  there is no magic wand.  There is no one thing that will make all my battle pieces fall into place. I am just fighting, often clawing my way back, day by day, sometimes hour by hour.  I keep writing, keep breathing and keep fighting.  I can win over most of the tally marks, believing that I was not at fault,knowing that there was nothing I could do, I was just a little girl. There was nothing else that I could have done as a young girl. There are still often times, I wonder if I will find that true joy, just because I deserve to have it, that is more of a struggle than you would think.  My goal in this life is to win over them all, and find that joy for myself and others. Some days, I will win, some days I will struggle but never will I stop trying. The nightmares and memories may win some days but they are less than before and I am stronger than yesterday.

I heart your heart 

Frozen

Being in my skin is often terrifying, there is such a choice

Be Numb and smile, it's OK I'm fine

Cry out the sadness, feel defeated, feel such SHAME

So much embarrassment for what we have survived
How does a person live through such things

This body that we can't escape

The Shame that is in every cell, every breathe and encompasses life 

I can feel cold; sometimes except when I was left no clothes laying by the back door ;no warmness besides the sun

I can feel hot; sometimes, but not in water 

I can still feel their hands, when I stop and just be, hands are everywhere
I close my eyes and they are there
 hands that were supposed to care

hands that were supposed to protect, and to be gentle

Hands I always notice hands, hands, hands

I sit still and feel danger in my bones
I try to breathe but its a waiting game for the next act of violence

It's an anxiousness comparable to death; I struggle to explain

I love life, feel joy and the feelings start to rise, I move and dread being seen.

When you are seen, it hurts, people take what isn't theirs

There was not a time growing up, where I was safe

I was not safe as a little girl as far back as I can remember

I was not safe as a teen, loss in abundance I would never be the same

I was not safe as an adult, things happen and I go far away

I eat to feel safe. Until it feels enough, Until I become enough for a time 

Better to feel full, than feel hands that steal your breath

better full And not completely empty, such loneliness

I am scared to feel, scared that the person underneath

Will crumble, crumble, crumble

A mind that struggles with the memories, the hands, the devastation of what is left behind

Sometimes there are glimpses, SOMETIMES 

Sometimes I imagine, I pretend that I like the skin I am in
that I take care of me and the girl that I was BUT

I can point out the very moment I decide to float away

Usually........

And What do I want......

I want to forget the hands, the hurt, the memory that haunts

The pictures I cant un-see,  the abuses burnt in every cell
I want to be me, just me, I want to live in my skin and feel safe and feel
like I am worthy.
I want to stick with those happy joyful moments, feeling them in my soul for more than a few minutes at a time
I want to believe that I deserve better, I deserve love and friendship
I deserve to be respected,  included and I deserve to have a voice
I want to scream from the rooftops until the need to scream is gone
I want to wear a skirt again , and feel safe and proud and pretty
I want to find a love that can hold me a little tighter on those days when my world comes crashing in
And laugh a little more on those days I come alive
I feel like a burden, yet want so much and I don't know if that is fair
So I keep fighting the pictures the memories, the people that choose not to understand
And someday I won't be a burden
but a women of courage and strength that rose from the ashes at a depth you can't imagine
And conquered the world.

That is what I want instead of being Frozen.

I heart your heart. 

Another Unacknowledged Anniversary

I feel like this day deserves some kind of acknowledgement; some kind of celebration; Though I honestly don't know the what , how or why  . Twenty years ago a plea was taken in my case against my father, EXACTLY 20 years ago today, It was a Monday ; 7,305 days ago. Sometimes it still feels like yesterday.  Other days it was lifetimes ago. I have finished college, had my children and bought my own house since then.  I have come so far but that plea deal is a black cloud. Today there will be no flowers, no balloons no celebrating the finality of what it was that I did 20 years ago.There is just this quietness, and an end to what was such a long Journey.  I  somehow survived the legal process; alone often not knowing how.  I know in my brain that there was nothing left for me to do, there was no fight left after doing it by myself for close to two years.  I was scared and alone and was so glad it was over, there was a relief no more asking of details, no more attorney's no more Detectives. But those were also the people that held my heart during that time.  Finally today I am coming to an understanding that for all these years I have felt guilty that I "took a plea"  when really,  it was the DA's choice and not mine.  Sure they ask, "Do you want to take this plea ?"  They make me think that it was my choice. But after many conversations with Neil they probably had no intent on even going to trial at all.  So asking if I wanted to take a plea was kind of a nicety that they were going to take anyway, pretending like I had some kind of choice.

  There really wasn't a sense of closure for me. Because just like that everything stops.  All the outside questioning and bravery boils down to a stupid plea.  I woke up that day preparing to go to court, thinking about having to testify with him in the room. Thinking about how others were going to take the things they would have to hear.  I went over and over the things I was and wasn't supposed to say and do.  I worried about remembering what hand I was supposed to hold up as they asked if I promised to tell the truth. All the correct responses, all my answers on my statement and interviews were running through my mind. I worried about my mother and brother having to testify, the questions they would be asked, the things they would have to hear had happened to me.   That first degree felony with imprisonment up to 99 years, the weight of that was incomprehensible.  I wondered if I would feel anything, if I would be sad , if I would feel bad for him.   I had pictures of the courtroom playing in my head, the little room where I would have to wait,  where he would be sitting, where each attorney would sit.  I knew that I was on my own , and had to be strong to protect especially Little Angela, and any child that he could possibly come in contact with. I wanted to save the world  from the monster that I knew my father  to be.  I thought about my uncle who was abused who had said the words to my DA :"If you make me fly to Texas I will make him look like a fucking saint on the stand"  I repeated that in my head and wondered if he would have made my case stronger, I wondered if he could have made the difference.  The DA knew just how hostile that he would be and didn't even want him to testify. He knew the things my father was capable of and yet was to afraid to come forward; was to afraid to do the the right thing.  All he thought about was himself, and that was something I just couldn't do.



 The gravity of the aloneness  that I felt during this time was unimaginable, it was me against the world, a very cold cruel evil world at that.  I wanted to scream at everyone just how unsafe this man was. I wanted people to understand , that I did this to keep others safe.  If it was just me,  I know that I never would have walked into that police station. I felt like everyone was making excuses, and wanting the easy way out .  Me, I just wanted to make sure that no other little girl would have to grow up like I did.   I never wanted any other little to ever feel the things that I did growing up. I never wanted another little to grow up being silenced believing that she was worth nothing.


  I can remember standing in the hall of my Mother's house with that blue wall.  I had just gotten out of the shower my hair was still dripping wet. My brother was laying on the floor with his feet up on the TV stand. I had just gotten off that call with the DA. My mother was standing there by the blue wall, and I don't remember my exact words, It was something along the lines of we took a plea.  I remember her giving me a hug,  and saying that she was so glad that it was all over. I stood there my world spinning, everything I had done, all the sacrifices I had made come to this moment.   I was in a state of numbness,  I was relieved it was over, but what did that mean!  It meant that they took a plea for a lesser included offense, meaning that you would get more jail time if you had an animal cruelty charge. That is exactly what that meant.  I remember the DA saying well its basically the same thing only he won't have to register as an offender. Basically the same thing ; no not even close. You saw my statement do you really think that's a good idea we have seen the patterns of what he has done to children,  yet you want a case you can win ! The nature of the beast right.    I stood there in the hall frozen my brother not even acknowledging the news, my mother relived that it was all over for her and me feeling like I had let the entire world down.

So for me there was nothing, nothing was over because he was still out there on probation.  The monster got probation. He got almost 2 years probation and a fine.    I tried to go back to Normal I went back to school to complete my first semester at UNT. I tried to move on but I was falling apart.  Because for me taking a plea was a complete failure because I wanted him in prison for a very long time knowing there was no chance of him hurting anyone else. I worried, I cried I made sure that I knew where he was and what he was doing.   He did break probation and ended up doing almost 2 years in Jail, and the DA forgot to tell me,    I found out on my own.  I was someone who slipped through the cracks.  So much happened in that mean time and I ended up flying to Boston to testify for that little girl Angela, because once he got out of jail he moved them all up north.  I didn't care where he went , that fight in my soul to keep others safe and sound never stopped.  Time went on, people didn't understand my fight.  Often I was told that I was dragging this around.  I didn't listen to one of them, and Finally little Angela was away from him.  Her mothers rights were taken away.

All of this Brings me to this day, all these years later. 7305 days ago when I was broken, moved me to  5 years ago today I got the chance to read my Victims Impact Statement for the documentary and so began my journey back.  I will never understand the way that things turned out.  I will never understand how I was the one that was made to believe like I had done something wrong.  I still have questions, I still keep fighting, I still keep asking Neil the attorney from the documentary if there was anything else that I could have possibly done ?


And he always responds most kindly,

But legally, prosecutors have the authority to make that decision without the survivor’s consent.  

I think it is likely that the prosecutors would have entered into a plea agreement in your case, even if you had pushed for a trial.  In short, that decision was beyond your control.

Today, I am learning to be gentle and know there was nothing I could have done differently back then; its a process. I am learning to take in the fact that I did the hard part I filed charges and saw them through.  I am learning to see the bravery and courage that I have in my very core.

 So as the sun starts to come up today, it won't be acknowledged by anyone and there have already been tears. Lots of them. Me and who I am is going to revel in the fact that I chose to stand-up, I chose to make a difference and I will never stop fighting for others. I didn't take a plea,  they handed it out.  I am going to let myself have today, whatever it might hold and let that be OK.  Tomorrow is a new day and I will be OK, I will continue to fight. But today be gentle on this Unacknowledged Anniversary.

I heart your heart.

A Post of Questions

Oh there are so many lately. 

Will I ever be loved.  

Will I ever be married.

Will i ever have another baby.

Will I see the end of my pain 

Will I ever stop counseling

Will that longing to belong ever be quenched 

Will I one day have my own space

Will I be comfortable in my own skin, and who I am 

Will I find a tribe

Will I be a Speaker 

Will I write a book 

Will I be truly happy 

A few of my questions lately. 

I heart your heart.

Without Wings, She tries to Fly

"You forced her into silence, yet expected her to sing. You took her innocence then you asked her to fly without wings."    Little Girl Speak


This.  This is how my mind, heart and body feels right now.  This.

Right now I don't feel like I can fly.

I can tell you its been a rough few days that have turned into a rough few weeks.  This picture made me ugly cry. Right now it feels like my insides have been ripped open and things demolished and stolen that I can never recover.  I am not saying that there will be no healing, I am not saying that I am giving up on someday finding peace.  What I am saying is that there will be some things that will always be a struggle, there are some things that are  always going to hurt, no matter the amount of time that passes, and no matter how hard that I work to heal this heart.

It has been some time since, I have been in this state, feeling everything and nothing all at the same time.   There are so many things to say; things that I want to express but my mind is overflowing, and my fingers won't move to type on the keys.  I am grateful that times like this are fewer now but when this happens its gut wrenching.  I feel like a burden,  I just need too much.  I want someone to sit with me as  I cry until there aren't any tears and I can laugh again. These feelings make me feel like such a burden, and for me that is one of the worst feelings in the world.

I feel like every hurt,every trauma, every rape, every assault is in full view, screaming at me all at once. All the how's and why's are creeping in. All the things I thought I knew, don't seem to matter when there is a new layer of the pain exposed. There is a part of me that wants to spill my guts, and the other part that doesn't because I can't be a burden, a pest, or that person that is just dwelling and needs to get over it. I think for most of my life I have felt more of a burden than anything. If I had a wish, I would make that feeling go away. I dream of someday being able to share and not feeling ashamed, dirty or like I am the one who has done something detrimental to others by speaking the truth.  Someday.

There was no sleep last night, or the last few really. again I watched Unbelievable looking for some answers that I know aren't there, but I watched hoping to grab onto some piece of advice, or kind words to make me feel better, to make me feel less alone.  I even reached out to Pandy's I feel like this quarantine is challenging ever cell in my body.  There is no sense of normalcy, there is little routine and I worry,  Summer is coming and I am needing to hold on to something anything to keep me grounded.

I hope that in time, my oozy insides will ooze less ; I can find the right words and figure out the things that are in my head. This road that I am on so often gets messy and so foggy, even after coming so far.   I think in these times, its clear to see the progress that I have made and look forward to continue that forward motion, heal my heart and strive to make the best life that I can for my children and I. I watched a TED talk the other day and said healing was three steps forward and 10 steps back,  I so feel that today. There are things about the past that I have no control over, I just must face them as the come .  I have said it before,  I think this process for me is something that will be lifelong,  I think there will be things that come up from time to time.  But I hope it will get easier and not be such a big blow, because this is the life that I have and there are to many people that I need to help, and so many stories to be told.  Some days I will fly, some days I will fall but there will never be a day that I stop.  There will never be a day that I give in.

I heart your heart , even with my oozy messy torn heart. I will always heart your heart.

Just Breathe

The ABSOLUTE best quote that I have read in a long time. 

"It's a wonder that your body continues to fill your lungs with air when you have forgotten to breathe"

Yes, This. Let that sink in. 

Today I needed this. 

I have been forgetting to breathe, 

and realizing that and trying to catch my breathe. 

thinking that if I don't breathe then it can't be the truth.  

I hold my breathe out of fear. I hold my breathe out of the unknown.

I hold my breathe out of the pure heaviness of my heart. 

Reading this quote is a realization really.

Today was a day that I had to talk about really hard things. 

Things that a person should never have to talk about.

A tragedy, and the tears begin to fall.

A Tragedy ; my biggest blessing.

And yet all those years ago when I was sure there was no more breathe, and death was near

 even then my lungs continued to do what they were meant to do.

Even when I was breaking.

IN and OUT, IN and OUT

All those times when I was most alone in the world. 

IN and OUT, IN and OUT

The breathing never stops.

And as I heal, grow and let it out in the world

I will find a way to find those things a new space in my heart and mind.

And I will keep breathing.

I heart your heart. 

So Far Gone

Someone called him a monster and I cringe, no that wasn't him not a monster Right ?  I still take so much responsibility for that Date; Aug 22, 2003.  I find myself wanting to make excuses for him. for me, for the entire situation. I want to make that day completely something different, but life doesn't work like that.  I find myself saying awful things to myself, I was the one who wanted to go shopping who just wanted to be normal that day. I hate more than anything that feeling of wanting Normal, whatever that is!   Like he wasn't a monster, that I think of when I hear the word. He didn't yell or scream, he didn't call me any names.He wasn't violent, he didn't hit me, he didn't leave any marks.  Yes, he took what he wanted, but I was so far gone. Maybe if I didn't go to that place that was so far gone, I could have stopped him and things would be different.   My mind knew what was coming, I knew what he was going to do; after I fought , telling him no one hundred times, that we were supposed to go shopping, I told him over and over," but we are supposed to go shopping, we are supposed to go shopping." My mind knew and I feel like a switch was flipped. I tried to tell him over and over soon I felt like there were no words coming out, he wasn't listening. And I know that I have talked about that pillow falling on my face.  I can still see it in my head it was a square pillow , a darker orange it wasn't one of my favorites, and wasn't very soft.  I knew once that pillow fell on my face, my body and mind knew what was next and that flip was switched; and I went to a place so very far away, so far away that I wasn't even in the room as he took what he wanted.  I see it in my head like I went into this dark room where there was no light, no windows nothing comfortable and was away. Just so far away.

I could not tell you what happened during that time, because I was in that far away place where I felt nothing saw nothing and heard nothing , there was just nothing. A Nothing and everything place.

I wasn't back in my room until he was off  of me , and getting dressed. I was still gone but at least I can see the room again,  my mind was still very far away, but I could see myself laying there on the bed.  I was just a shell holding empty space. I was nothing.  I rolled over covering myself, and he just had this look, He was quite happy with himself.  I think I even smiled, I guess to just ease the situation, that is what I did just smile and pretend that everything is OK; I am not sure but I wasn't happy and I just wanted him to hurry and leave.  I am grateful that he got dressed quickly, I remember him struggling to put his sandals on, his feel I still have that picture in my head. I remember him looking at his watch,  saying he had to leave.  Still in my mind, I was trying to make sense, thinking what happened, we were  supposed to go shopping, and I think it was then I realized that he never had any plans of lunch, of shopping. He never had any plans of anything normal that early afternoon. I remember pulling my shirt closed, folding my arms across my chest and following him to the front door.  He was in a hurry, he made comments about his "Beautiful" red BMW. Time was moving so slow,  and I wanted to understand I wanted to erase the hurt in my heart, I wanted to understand why I wasn't listened too. I wanted to pretend that he was a good guy, and that we went shopping and had a great time. Those things didn't happen. I said Goodbye, noticing the very green color of the bushes and that they needed to be trimmed.  I closed the door checked all the locks, checked them again and again and again. Finally  I went back to bed crying.

There wasn't violence he just didn't listen, Right ? He didn't hear me, he didn't hear me and didn't listen.  I think this is part of the reason, why I struggle so much with separating the before and after;  , there is an intense need to separate that is so strong. There was the before, where he didn't listen.  There was the dark room, where I went to get away and then there was this other side; my beautiful amazing children.  On the other side is where I came out,  where there is life again.  I think my mind wants that clear picture, where everything makes sense and there just isn't one.  I want to pretend that the first side  doesn't exist, and isn't attached to the rest and doesn't lead to the next thing but the fact is that with out one side there also isn't the other.   This hurts my heart.  This hurts because I am not the only one affected.  This hurts because it affects the ones that are most important to me.  This is so very painful because I can't understand something being so terrible that I disappear to a place in my head, where there is nothing but blackness.  I have said I would do it all again to be their mom , and I would a million times the rest of my life to have them, I just want to find a place where the before fits in my heart and doesn't hurt.  I don't even think I make sense anymore.  There is no making sense of this is there ?  How does a person come to terms and come to a place of understanding with something like this ?  I will keep searching, keep writing and one day hope for some peace.

I heart your heart. 

Violation

I get Angry at myself often that I am not further along in healing, that I still get so sad. There are days when the memories, visions and feelings all win. There are days when I want to scream at the world, to make all the hurt stop. There are days I want to run far and away and never look back. Then I remember why I have that sadness in my heart and soul and its completely overwhelming.  I see a picture like this, and I am silenced but only because there are not any words, if you listen I think you can hear my heart and its pieces .  There are no words, that will do.  There is literally only sadness. Lately there is an immense amount of sadness. Sadness for a little girl that just wanted to be. Sadness for a little girl that never got to be little.  Sadness for a life that never got to be lived, sadness for a life that no one would ever chose.  Sadness for a life where there was nothing safe and sound.  It's a sadness that comes and goes at times.  It used to be there all the time.  It is there less the work that I do but its always there. Rearing its ugly head at all the wrong times. Lately it seems to be bigger and be lasting for an exceptional amount of time.  Maybe this is just another level to the healing that has to take place, but its painful none the less.  I will never understand the lack of care and concern for such a little girl. Today I don't understand how I even made it out alive.  So many hands people did what they wanted when they wanted and no one stepped in.  I get frustrated that I can survive all of that and keep doing everything that as expected and yet today I would rather crawl in a hole for some time until my heart feels that its ready to come out.

It makes me angry and sad that today my heart still wants those kind arms to hold me and tell me that everything is going to be ok.  I want to be held and cry it all out, until there are no tears left.  Those things are all OK as a child, but I am not a child anymore.  There is no being held, until the pieces all fall back into place. Some days that is too much to bear, today is one of those days. I want some one to just hold me until I feel better until I have cried those tears and out of pure exhaustion I am able to safely go to sleep.   That need to be cared for is so strong.  Someday that has to lesson.  I dream of that someday, but I am not going to hold my breathe.  I have to learn to get those things some other way by some other means.  Someday, Someday.  I guess maybe its another layer of this beast that has been my life.  In time the sadness will lesson, the hurt will subside and the agony won't feel so heavy.  Today is does.  My heart hurts, I want to be cared for and understood.  I want to scream at the top of my lungs about those that didn't do what they were supposed to.  I want to feel strong, and confident ;powerful and pretty. I want to know that where I am today is ok, even if I have a long way to go.


I heart your heart

Sacred

Our stories of sexual abuse and assault are sacred and are the driving force behind our advocacy for other survivors. They put a name and a face to the atrocities committed, often by our own family members, friends, and acquaintances, forcing society to come from behind the curtains of statistics and numbers. These numbers and statistics provide a safe shield to hide from the monstrosity of the crimes committed, especially if committed against children. It allows society not to look at the majority of perpetrators who look eerily like themselves or other members of their family or close circle of friends, not the dirty old man in a trench coat hiding in the bushes that quickly elicits righteous rage to the surface. The grave reality is that 80%-90% of these crimes are NOT committed by strangers, and that the only crime more egregious perhaps is committed by those who stand staunchly  beside the perpetrator, protecting and defending him/her. Our stories best any fairy-tale: we suffered unimaginable horrors that would have killed most people, survived, and summoned the courage to rescue ourselves. Our lives while healing may not be happily ever after, but they are amazing, inspiring, and life changing to all who hear them. You will not be the same after hearing our stories.

Anne M. Nigro Winslow survivor of sexual abuse and domestic violence

I think through the years my goal has been to help people understand to get them to do things different.  To want to do things different to make those changes and be a person that is there that hears.  I am learning that not everyone can hear, not everyone can stick around and not everyone can help and support.  There is a part of that; that breaks my heart there is another part of that that somehow I have to come to terms with. I hope that in the upcoming year ahead of me that I can let go of those people and things that can't handle the life that I have lived.  I am at a place that I want people that want to be around. I want people that can hear what I have to say, I want people that can hear my heart and still be my friend, still laugh with me and even sometimes cry.  I am hopinh that opportunities come up for m in October that I can not even imagine today. I hope there will come a time, when my heard can be heard with out the worry of how the words are taken, I just want them to be heard.  As I have said before I am one of those fighter types.  I am going to keep talking and sharing until things are done different until survivors are seen and heard,  I am going to make sure that happens. If people don't like it, then they don't have to listen.  

I heart your heart.   

Sometimes background people want to be celebrated

So yea I am not at all a fan of my Birthday.  They are hard for me in a lot of ways.  I know some reasons but I think there are others that I haven't even acknowledged.  Growing up there were parties that I was not invited to. There were parties that no one showed up for.  There was just a great deal of disappointment and a sense that I was unworthy and unimportant.  Another piece I am sure was the attention. Having that attention all focused on me was so uncomfortable and I would just rather be quietly celebrated in ways that I am comfortable with.

This year was exceptionally difficult.  There was not much acknowledgement and the night ended with me in tears, it was quite awful.  There were no cards or presents.  It was not a fun night.  And I didn't realize how much I hated the day, or even needed that small acknowledgement. Just a card. I was upset that I wasn't mentioned, in the school memo, not once, and yet other with birthdays in the same week were.  I take those things to mean how once again unimportant that I am, and not remembered. There was nothing special, nothing at all.

And then at out team meeting the first 20 minutes were spent celebrating a coworker which was awesome, there was a sense of sad, because once again I was the forgotten, there wasn't even a mention of my birthday.  It stung a little. 

And I think then I realized that every once in awhile it is nice to be celebrated to know that you are seen and important and cared for.  I didn't receive that this year and it was more than hard.  I don't at all want a huge production, I want the quiet card, that says I see you and happy Birthday.  I am sure that I might be more sensitive with all that is gong on  in the world, but birthdays have never been something that I looked forward too. But that acknowledgement that is what makes a difference.

Just such let downs for my birthday.  Over and over.  Here is to hoping that maybe next year I will be remembered. Maybe next year will be different.  Maybe someone will see and hear me next birthday.

I heart your heart.

Quarantine

This Covid-19 has been harder on me than I ever imagined.  I like everyone else was like ok , for a few weeks to flatten the curve and things will go back to normal.  Well its anything but normal 6 weeks later and I don't think there will ever be a Normal again. At least not like it was before.  Everyone was excited in the beginning thinking this is a big break, we are going to have all this time.  For a person who struggles and is alone on the inside most of the time this time is not a good one.  This time is more than hard, and leaves a brain like mine with too much time to think. For a person like me in a house with people that make you feel alone even in their presence , this is incredibly difficult because these are the same people that you are with all day everyday.  That feeling in my heart of being alone is bigger being at home, than it would be in my everyday.  I can promise its huge in my every day and this is even bigger and more than I ever expected. My life works on doing things the same on routine and support from the people that I work with, From Mark. I like things that same I like to know what is expected.  In these times, there are many unknown's and very little support.  I am trying to find the right words,  to help you understand the gravity of this for someone like me.  I am falling short, in every way.  People talk about family connection and together time for me, that is not the case and these days are long and hard.  I am not looking forward to the Summer, I am not looking forward to what lays ahead.  I have given my all trying to be grateful think of this as a good thing and I don't.

I am in a house with my son who sees his needs as more important as anyone's.  He is often rude and unkind.  He doesn't listen to a word I say and is more than disrespectful. He has excuses for everything, and he makes me cry a few days a week.  I don't have a clue what I am supposed to do, but its bad, really bad.  I live with my mother who does things like she did as I was growing up, and that is hard for me to handle.  I have worked my entire life healing from that and trying to do it differently, yet I often feel stuck in an atmosphere like I grew up in and its heartbreaking.  I try to let things I try not to make things a big deal,  but there is no break and, I am exhausted.  The more I try and tell her, the worse that it gets.

Mariska is my saving grace.  She watches out for me,  she cares for my heart and makes me laugh.  I know for sure that I am still walking and breathing because of her.  She is the calm voice telling me that its ok, that its a good thing we have each other.  She was the only one in my house that even got me  a birthday present.  I am so very grateful. 

I think I am just writing so I don't forget this time.  Not like that is likely but when all this is over and the kids are back in school, when I am back to work and I have some peace, I am going to hug those who help me through each day a little harder and a little longer because I am so very grateful. I am grateful every day but even more so since this.

I heart your heart.