So much inside

 

So much inside and so little to say.  Well, there is a lot to say but the words escape me. There is such a heaviness in my soul. I am at a place between looking back and looking forward. I am doing everything that I can trying to help that 13-year-old find the light and find her voice.  I am looking back trying to find the pieces, trying to understand. I want so badly for her to be free, for her to smile and not look over her shoulder.  She isn't in the dark, but she isn't in the light yet either.  She is quiet and still so sad.  It is so hard for her to imagine a time when she doesn't feel so awful. I am working to give her a name something more appropriate than just 13-year-old girl.  She so deserves rest; she deserves to feel loved and safe.  She deserves more than that and I am trying to find something that will make her feel more a part of this life instead of a girl that has had to hide away, feeling so insignificant. I will never stop trying, I will forever keep fighting for her.  It is my hope that someday, she will open her eyes and be able to enjoy all the things that this life has to offer.  I cannot tell you when that day will be, but I can promise I will be here fighting until she can. I know that she has so much inside, I know that even today she is more than afraid.  Today she still believes everyone's words about how insignificant she was; they made her feel worthless and small. I believe that she has come a long way from that darkest dark place that she was in.  She is no longer alone behind a wall with no light, no hope. 

She is moving toward the light; she is just unable to see it She is still more than afraid; she is still frozen in the things that have happened. She has a grip on her past, because somehow, she has to prove why and how she is the way that she is. She holds on to the things that have happened; because they matter, and her entire life people told her that those things were of such insignificance, but those things are a part of her and so many people refused to see them. I think somehow when she feels her voice is heard she will slowly be able to let go.   She is terrified of coming into the light and being seen.  Because for her being seen is exactly how she gets hurt. She is terrified of being told once again that the things that happened were her fault.  The things that happened, didn't really happen, and that she is just a sad case of a girl who is a liar. I worry for her for the both of us because we cannot handle any more hurt, I have to prove to her that I can take care of us.  I have to prove that those things did happen to her.  I have to show her that I believe her, and I love her and i am grateful that she helped me survive the most unimaginable.  I have to help her find her voice, give her a safe place to feel, to purge and for once be able to feel and move on.  I have to prove to her that she will be seen and heard and there is no need for her to hide away.  Right after she got the courage to speak, she was shamed and blamed and that is where she lives. 

Today I have to work to prove otherwise, that she is believed and that it's so ok not to know all the answers.  She was just a girl who didn't know.  There was no way that she could have all the answers.  There is such a sense that she is the adult and should have known; she had to believe that since as far back as she can remember.  I have to prove that she wasn't an adult. She was a child, and it was every single adult in her life that failed her.  If I can help her understand how she was failed and in no way at fault, I think she can begin to come back to life. I think that she is breathing but barely.  

I am not giving up.  I know how very hard this is and I know and understand how afraid that you are. 

I heart your heart. 

So much a Blur

 

This is a hard one. There are so many independent pieces that I struggle with, that don't fit just right; ANYWHERE.  When I think about this time, I was a mere 13 years old.  Just 13 years, just a girl.  Just a girl carrying things that she should never have had to carry on her own. There are pieces of her that are locked away in my mind, too violent to unimaginable. There are other pieces that are just unknown and still other pieces that are just pieces that I am unable to understand.   I fear somehow these rogue pieces prove the things that all those people in my short life said about me.  Somehow if I speak about all the pieces that don't seem to fit together it will prove all the things, I hold in my head about being unworthy and unlovable, a liar. All those awful terrible things that so many people taught me to believe when I was barely breathing.  Yesterday was a really hard day, I woke up convinced that I was going to figure it all out.  I was going to put moments and pieces of my life to pen and paper and make them make sense make them fit.  That didn't happen.  

What did happen, is I was left holding pieces that will never fit together. No matter what I do or how hard that I try.

 I tried to make them fit into some kind of timeline.  I tried to make them make sense but just when I thought one piece fit, others fell out of place.  There were a lot of tears.  A lot of sleeping and a lot of being still afraid that if I moved, I would completely fall to pieces.  I would write, sleep cry then repeat all day.  I long for answers and pieces to fit to somehow be able to build my case and be able to say see I wasn't lying; I needed your help and support.  I needed you to know that these things happened to me and that I was not ok.  I was not ok at all, and I was 13.  I was doing it all on my own and not one person stepped up for me.  I want so much to find some answers to find some picture that will make a connection that will somehow put my mind at ease.  

I found yesterday as I was trying to figure out the pieces it seems that the more that I look trying to find answers the more confusing that they all tend to get.  I think ok; I understand this one piece but in that finding only brings more confusion. 

I know that it all started at Celebrate 88.  The Summer of my seventh-grade year. And it all ended the following Summer when I just wanted to die.  An entire year 365 days of pieces that I am desperately trying to understand. I am afraid that I have to apologize I am going to get out some of those pieces, just as I remember them, how they are in my head because really is there any sense to any of this?  A young, girl a child even made the outsider because she chose to speak about the terrible things that were done to her.  Is there any sense? No, I don't think that there is, but yet I want to create a picture and be able to prove that I was hurt and that I needed help. 

Here is what I know and how I remember, the pieces that are sharp and can slice a person open from the inside out.  I wanted someone to believe me and hold on to me and tell me that all those things weren't my fault; and that they were going to keep me safe.  All I got was shame and blame.  All I got was the message that no one would really want to do that to me, those things don't happen, and I just must want attention. 

Celebrate 88.

 I was not old enough to go to this youth Christian weekend.  But Everyone said I was so mature, and somehow that make it ok.  I didn't fit in with them.  I was a scared child they were all in high school, another place that I didn't fit in.  I didn't fit anywhere my entire life really.  Well, I guess we were supposed to do some kind of presentation.  For a reason that I cannot explain I said that I would do it which included dancing in front of the entire GYM in front of everyone that was there.  I am not sure what I was thinking.  I wasn't obviously.  So, mistake number one I put myself out there.  And there was a part of me that was excited.  It felt new and exciting, but as I danced, my shorts came up and I remember being mortified.  Like somehow because I choose to dance in front of everyone, because I wasn't careful, and my shorts came up I was the lowest of the low.   The embarrassment I felt was much greater than it should have been.  When it was over, and it was time for the dance.  I think that there were a few guys in my group that I wanted to dance with, and they did not; so, I sat mostly just watching as an outsider. Until Don asked me to dance.  I am sure that I was shocked.  It was already in my brain that no one wanted to dance with me. So, we danced, he made me laugh. I felt important, almost normal.  Then I didn't see him again until Church service on Sunday morning.  He carried the candles and was right behind the priest.  He saw me and smiled.  I was noticed again.  We talked by the flowers he gave me a kiss and said that he would see me again.  

He showed up at my house, I was shocked and for a second, I was excited.  I don't know how much time had passed since celebrate 88 but I know school had started again. 8th grade.  Another unanswered question.  When you are 13 time is something that you honestly don't think of.  He pushed his way in.  He was a different person than the guy I met at that weekend.  He was unkind and very rough.  He raped me.  I struggled to understand, I was so confused.  I remember thinking this is just what I am good for.  I was the slut for dancing with him and being. excited when he kissed me,..This is just what happens to me another rape in a lifetime of thousands.

A short time later, Don came back.  I was in the shower, my parents doing a church weekend. Home alone as always.  He called 4 other people.  I was gang raped from early morning until the sun went down.  NO one came home and checked on me.  No one called to make sure that I was ok.  Over and over, there are times during that day that will remain black it's too much to bring them to light.  I didn't think I was going to make it out of that day alive.  I had visions of my parents coming home and finding my dead body. I remember their laugh, how they made fun of me.  This was not the kind guy that I met that gave me butterflies.  This is what I was good for.  No one cared I was a slut who asked for it. 

I remember telling Calvin what happened to me.  I remember him asking me if they finished, at that time I didn't have a clue what he meant.  He told me and I was more than embarrassed.  He said that these things could not keep happening to me and that I had to tell.  I did tell and wished I didn't. There was no love or support, there was no care for my heart that wanted nothing more than to die.  No one held me and told me that it wasn't my fault.  All I got were people telling me no one would want to do that to me.  I must be lying I just wanted attention. There was absolutely no care.

There was one therapist appointment at Friends of the Family being belittled the entire time.  There was one with my father where I was asked how many there were then ignored, then there was the appointment with Dr.Culpepper.  I was terrified and just trying to breathe.  He was the only person who listened to me and told me that I couldn't bottle things up.  I never cried a single tear. 

I must have taken a test, I was pregnant.  No one knew.  Calvin was my go-to.  I can remember being excited when I felt her move and letting Calvin feel.  What a fairy tale that I lived in.  I am not sure what happened next.  I think that don showed up again.  This time it was February, I can remember that he brought flowers, it was around valentines.  I saw him and there was no feeling no emotion. I unbuttoned my pants and laid down.  There was no fight he was going to take what he wanted. He was shocked, I didn't have any fight left, this was what I good for.  The less that I fought, then the faster he would be done with me.  He kicked me on the way out and just left.  

I never told anyone why bother.  The things that happened to me didn't matter.  I was already the black sheep in the church, I was seen as the crazy one. I could feel the stares, I heard the unkind words and all that mattered was my baby Bella.  I was living as if I was going to live happily ever after.  

Life went on until it didn't anymore.  There was an intense pain, and a lot of blood.  After everything that happened to me, I was used to blood, this was something very different.  I can remember calling Calvin and I remember him picking me up.  The next thing that I remember was being in the hospital.  I have two memories there.  One is that room, so bright white, like I wasn't even there really but watching from far away.  And the second memory was the Dr putting his hand on my leg telling me that I lost her.  There were a few other people standing around the bed, but I don't know who they were, I can't see their faces.  I felt very small. All I know is that the only kindness I received was that DR with his hand on my leg telling me he was sorry.  No one was ever sorry for the things that happened to me. those are my two memories.  I don't know what happened after that.  All I knew is that the only thing that kept me going was gone.  

I have looked it up and if you are over a certain number of weeks then a death certificate and everything has to be filled out, I don't know if any of that was done.  I don't know anything and sometimes that is the heaviest weight.  Sometimes I wish I had the words to talk about things figure them out but there aren't any answers. I don't know what happened, I don't know what hospital I was at, I am thinking it was Lewisville because that was the only ER around, but I don't know. I don't know anything.  

After three days nothing else was done, no one ever talked to me, and no one ever acknowledged that I had been brutally assaulted and was dying inside.  Life went on as usual.  I was just the girl who wanted attention. 

Things just got worse and worse, the nightmares were brutal, I wanted nothing more than to forget but all I did was remember.  I didn't sleep, didn't have friends, I was the walking dead.  Not one person saw me, I felt invisible my heart was broken.  My parents knew I wasn't well.  They planned a trip to Florida with my grandmother.  I wasn't planning on coming home.  I just wanted to die.  I didn't want to have to fight anymore.  I didn't want to remember; I didn't want to have to pretend that I was fine.  

A year in the life of a 13-year-old girl.  A year full of pieces.  A year full of loss and a weight that no little girl, should ever have to carry alone. I write this and realize I have had this sinking feeling all day like I have done something terribly wrong in speaking and writing about all of this.  It is this deep ingrained feeling that feels so overwhelming, physically I am affected down to my bones.  I am the one left after all this time with this sinking feeling, that I have done something so incredibly shameful.  I just want to get all these pieces that tear at my heart a place to rest.  I know today that there are things that I will never have an answer for, and there isn't a thing that I can do about it.  I want to scream at the world for the person that I am today, I want to scream at the world for that scared little girl that wanted someone to see her and do something.

I heart your heart

Just Blah

 

I don't know there are so many things.  I am on overload, and I want to hide away. My brain is everywhere, and I don't want to do anything.  I want to stay under my warm covers and forget everything.  I want to scream at the world and pet my dog.  I want some things to be easier, I want so badly to understand the why and how's for some of the things in my life.    The trouble is that there are no answers.  The things that I am looking for , there isn't one magic thing that will make it better.  There is no magic wand to take away the nightmares, the achiness the feeling of their hands.   I think that finally I am able to have hope that there is a light at the end of the Tunnel, but I also feel like these last pieces are extra sharp and even more dangerous!  I feel like these last parts and pieces there are big chunks missing and somehow my brain is going to have to learn to be ok with that. Everything about this part of my journey is hard and at the same time I have never been so far outside of my own box, doing different things, making things my own.

I feel like I am finally doing things that make a difference, that make my heart happy and that means the world. I worry ALL THE TIME !  I get on my own nerves I worry so much.  I worry about things that there really is no need to worry about. I worry about being teacher of the year, somehow there is even more pressure on me than before.  I worry that someone is going to read a post and go and tattle.  I feel like every time that I want to have a voice there is someone there wanting me to be quiet about the things that are important to me.  People don't me share when I am mistreated, and that is not ok.  I have just as much right to share my experiences as anyone else.

I think maybe it's just changing times.  The kids are getting older, I have to find out the things that I want out of life,  I want to be truly happy.  I want to have people around that are genuine and kind and care about me and the things that I think and believe.  

Once again, I saw a post with a group of women that I don't belong in.  It stings because there was a time when I did, take that back I thought that I did.  I was wrong.  I didn't fit into their little boxes.  I asked too many questions and challenged the way that they thought.  I didn't believe in god and they didn't understand my spirit. I don't want to be a part of their group, but it hurts when you used to think that you were a part of them if that makes sense.  There was a saying that I found the other day talking about that fact that if someone refuses to choose a side when someone has done something to another person than in their not choosing, they have made it loud and clear that they did in fact actually make a choice.   Yes , yes to all of that.  They made a choice, and I was not a part of it.  Maybe that will be one of those things that always hurt.  I am better off, I want true and genuine over pretending and being something that I am not.  

I think good things are happening, I have a lot of good things starting to happen.  I think that I am learning that I have to make the things that I want to happen happen.  I look forward to going back to school maybe meeting some new people.  I am scared, I hope that I am able to do all the things that are neeeded,  talk about stepping out of my zone.  

I have good days and rough days rougher than most, but I am trying.  I want to find my own happy and I don't want to be by myself anymore; and at the same time, I don't know how not to be.  Being alone is a huge feeling right now and I don't like it.  Hopefully this is just a time of change.  Just a quiet time, before things start to change and get better.  I have to hope so, because I am working really hard, I am trying to find my happy.  

To new beginnings and finding all the things that I want in life.  

I heart your heart. 

How

 

Wow I seem to keep finding things that continue to break my heart.  And this is it, this is the end, I am no longer going to put any energy into you or your memory.  I am no longer going to beat myself up because I don't miss you.  All that I feel is relief and after a year that relief only gets stronger and stronger. There have been times when I have been able to think wow you would have enjoyed this.  There have been a few times where I thought, wow there is an empty space here.  I am tired of the daggers I feel even in your passing. Your words and actions often didn't match for me and now cleaning out your things I am finding the things that you truly thought and felt about me and honestly, I am crushed. My heart is literally breaking and there is not a thing that can be done.  You are gone. I am here and I am going to live my life full, and be true to who I am.  I am more than sorry that you could never appreciate and love the person that I was.  You hated that I was my own person, you hated that I chose to do the hard thing over the easy thing at all costs.  You hated that I didn't just shut my mouth and agree with you or anyone else for that matter.   You hated that I choose to do the hard thing over the easy thing.  You hated that I found my voice and stood up for others.  You hated me because I was a girl.  You left me out of the life insurance, only my brother's name is mentioned like I was never even your daughter.  It has nothing to do with the money, I could care less it is the fact that I meant that little to you.  I say that little really, I meant nothing because I wasn't your little cheer leader at your every Becking call. I found paperwork today; you are pleading with your doctor for weight loss surgery. You talked about how you wanted weight loss surgery to show your severely obese daughter than it can be done.  That was in April 2003, I had been back and forth to Boston trying to testify for Angela. My case going through the court system all on my own and your only worry is your obese daughter.  I can no longer give you any of my energy, I am tired of my breaking heart.  You were never there for me, not during the trial not growing up.  There was a time with Vincent and Mariska but it was short lived. So for the rest of the cleaning, I will read nothing and just throw it away.  It is all your business, and I will trash it all where it belongs.  

I am sorry that you couldn't love me as I was.  I am sorry that I was such a disappointment to you.  I am sorry that I changed my entire life, my favorite home that was all mine to make sure you had a home.  I am sorry that I wasn't the daughter that you wanted.   You left me to fend for myself my entire life and I was exhausted.  I needed a mom I needed to know that someone would be on my side no matter what.  I never got that.  So I am not sure how I am going to move on from the daggers thrown at me by your words and actions. I don't know how this all works really.  The truth is I didn't have a mom long before you were gone. You were not there and I shut you out, the hurt you caused was unbearable and you couldn't understand that.  I was on my own for most of my life.  You said the words when I pressed charges on asshole.  "Well at least he wasn't in my bed".  I should have known then but I so wanted a mom and I so wanted to love you, make you proud. I so wanted to believe that you didn't know, but truth be told you knew a lot of things and then ended up blaming me for them.  My heart is achy, I wish I had the kind of mom that I wanted and needed in my life.  I wish I had a mom that would have kept me safe and been there to support me throughout my life. I missed out on that.  Now is my time for me to enjoy my family and be all the things that my own children need. I cannot continue to try and figure out what I did wrong and why you didn't love me unconditionally.  So now I figure out How to hold my head high and learn to live without knowing why I meant so little to you. 

Her, another part of me

 

I feel like there has been so much going on that I have not been dealing with that 13-year-old little girl.  She is so strong yet so fragile.  I am sure that I don't give her near enough credit for getting us where we are.  She has lived a million lifetimes and I could not be more thankful for her.  I feel like calling her that "thirteen-year-old" is so dismissive. She is so much more than that thirteen-year-old girl, she is so much more than the gross and disgusting that I named her for years.  So first I have to come up with a name for her. She needs a name, something for her to hear and know that she is magic.  She is the reason that I survived.  She, that amazing girl is why I am standing here today.  She holds lifetimes of hurt and still has the kindest soul.  Even all that she went through she kept dreaming she held on and knew that someday this life of hers was going to be different. She always saw the small things; she believed in the trees and the wind.  She believed in the little birds singing on their branch, and Whales.  She held on to her love for whales and longed for a time when she could be free.  She is a girl that is quite miraculous in every sense of the word.  She rose above each and every injustice that was done to her, and even on the worst of days she was able to find the smallest speck of hope and she held on to it for dear life.  Its crazy sometimes to see how far that I have come, in finding my voice in being able to use words instead of just pictures and yet for this little girl words are hard to find.  I struggle, I struggle to get the things out I struggle for her story to be told.  I struggle and the fear is that connecting with her will somehow be the end of me.  If you have ever seen the movie K-Pax.  It is one of my all-time favorites, but in the end, when he is alive but so very far away.  That is my greatest fear, that somehow, I am not capable of being all the things that she needs.  I worry that I am not enough to carry her story that I am not enough to give it the right words to finally be free.  I worry all the time that the story will reduce me a blubbering mess and no amount of glue will be able to put all the pieces of me back together.  See I told you so very fragile yet oh so strong.  I have worked more than hard getting her to a place where she is finally ot of the dark.  She is no longer in darkness but isn't able to yet hold her head high. I know that I am closer to her being free as I have ever been, even closer than i think.  She is no longer in the dark and not quite in the light.  I look forward to the day when i can think of her and hold my heart knowing that she is no longer held down by the things that haunted her for so long.  There is no making them go away but I can help make them lighter.  Today I can talk about little Callahan and I am grateful that she is free, she is running and playing as she always should have been.  I remember the time that I missed her, when I didn't know where she was.  There was a part of me that felt more alone than I ever have.  Today, there is no missing her, she is there free as a bird doing all the things that she never got to experience in life.  I think about her and know that I she can never take the full heaviness away of all she endured but she has a freedom from it that is hard to put to words.  I look forward to the day with great hope when little 13-year-old Callahan isn't afraid of taking up space.  I look forward to the day when she will be comfortable in her skin when her every thought isn't dark with the things that happened to her and the people that treated her so cruelly.  I look forward to that time when she can feel the sun and feel the warmth of those around her.  She has lived life afraid of everything and I cry thinking about the day when she can laugh and not wonder who is watching.  I look forward to the day when she has a crush and can feel loved.  I look forward to the day she can wave goodbye and let me take over.  As I continue to heal and grow, I hope this will be her year.  That she can learn to grow her wings and be. I hope she can find the words she needs to speak and not be ashamed or feel guilty.  I look forward to the day she can stand on her own and be proud in her skin.  I picture her, as that girl sitting in a coffee shop quietly ready enjoying all that is around her.  She has a peace, because she knows where she has been but she realizes how far that she has come.  I want her to be able to enjoy the carefree things in life without having to think about all that could be, without having to look over her shoulder.  As with little Callahan there is no way to make all the things that happened to her completely go away.  There is no way in the world for her to live a life as if those things never happened, but it is my hope that I can give her some of the things she never got, and I can surround her with people who can hear her and give her space when needed.  I think that there are such deep wounds I think there will be days that sting, but she will learn to write and rest and know that she is still ok.  I think where I am in this journey, I know that there is no magic wand.  I think as things change and we grow things will come up, but they won't be as big as some of the things now.  She has never had a voice, she has never been able to tell her story and be heard, she is the one that has been silent making sure that everyone is ok, that all is well with the world while hers was falling apart around her.  It's her time.  It is her time to tell her story and stand proud, she has done amazing things and deserves peace, freedom and rest. This has got to be her year

I heart your heart. 

 It's your time. 

End of the year directions, 2022 is almost over

 I feel like there are a lot of different directions that I am being pulled this year. Christmas was harder than i expected and also opened my eyes in ways I could never have imagined. I think all year I have been waiting for the feeling of relief to leave and the sadness to set in and it just hasn't.  There is a sad that I don't have a mom and that she is no longer here, but that relief that sense of being able to breathe is something amazing. I was in a weird space and in a lot of ways I left like Cindy Lou Who when she is singing where are you Christmas.  I love to decorate and create this winter wonderland and this year I just couldn't.  We did put a tree up.  It is mostly decorated, but don't look at the top two feet and don't look at the back as you go up the stairs because there are no decorations.  It was pretty if you looked at different parts and just left others out.  The Mantle was done, and the stocking were hung.  The grinch was slumped on the back of the chair.  There were a few new things, but it was a chore to do, and they were turned on only a handful of times.  This year was different because Mariska was also working, and I was alone a lot and there wasn't enough of me for the bigger trees and there wasn't going to be any help from Vincent I knew that even without asking.  Just a sad year, a different year a year of transition that I am glad it is now coming to a close. 

Of course, what would the holidays be without DRAMA!   and of course, there was plenty.  Chris deciding right before Thanksgiving to leave Laurel, and the craziness that comes with that, I am sure you can imagine.  Him renting this huge 5-bedroom house then not even a week later separating.  Too much drama and I just want to be. Sam decided to speak with my brother and tell him his thoughts on him being beneficiary and leaving me behind and what he thought.  Yea that didn't go over well.  I haven't really heard from him since. I am not angry just so hurt.  I think people seem to forget I lost my mom too and no matter how rocky and hard that relationship was I don't have a mom. Once again something happens that I get put in the middle and treated like an outcast and I wasn't even the one that did anything.  I am so tired of being hurt; Tired of being a leftover if plans fall through.  I am tired of being caught in the middle for speaking the truth or sharing my thoughts. I am allowed to talk and share the things that are going on with me.

I spent the day yesterday getting my house back putting the few Christmas decorations that I have up away.  Out with the old in with the new.  Even fixing up the library.  I have really missed that room. I have this plan about getting a desk and making that a room we are able to use all the time. So, today is the last day of the year, how crazy is that.  There is so much here, so much that is ahead and a lot of things that will make me heart happy.  I look forward to the things that are ahead making room in my mind and heart for what is next, for the things that I want.  I am done with people that step on my heart and make me second guess everything that I do.  I am tired of people around me whose words and actions don't match.  If you are going to be in my life, I need to know that the things that you say are things that I can count n and that I can count on you by your actions, by how I am treated.  I have distanced myself from a lot of people that just cause more pain.  If you are not going to be in my life to support and care for me then kindly find your way out.  I feel like this year, I need to make myself a priority.  That is not saying that I am going to treat everyone terrible and change who I am.  That means that I am going to be true to who I am and keep the people who care for my heart close and be grateful because that is exactly what I need. 

In this new year, I feel like it is going to be a time to figure out what is next what will make me happy.  The kids are older they are going to school and will be working creating their own life.  I don't want to be sad during this next life phase I just need to find my own way. I have this calling for grad school. Everything I know tells me LPC and that scares me to death.  I want to work on my own house, making it mine changing little things to make it all mine.  I feel like I will keep working in my own healing but for once it feels like I am farther than I have ever been. There are parts of me that are free and a few that still need some work but I know that I am not alone and so I keep working.  I am going to speak to a group of LPC-Interns.  I am excited, nervous and terrified; I just hope that I say the right words and that it makes a difference. I hope I am calm clear and make an impact.  Then there is teacher of the Year gala.  I am a little worried because it goes against all that I am. The attention the focus I just do what I do.  I think there are a lot of new beginnings for me. I think that with each new beginning there will be 

decisions that need to be made.  As scary and unknown as this time is, I am looking forward to new adventures and finding my happy again.  I am hopeful that maybe even this heavy soul of mine can find some happy with no strings attached.  Here's to a new year, new experiences and letting myself shine in ways I don't even know yet. I hope that I am on the edge of a blue Sky, and things I can not even imagine.  I want that. I want happily ever after.

Happy New Year, Bring on 2023!

I heart your heart

The letter that I cannot write

I want to write you a letter, but I don't have any words, and can't find any that would fit

I want to write you a letter and tell you that i love you and that you meant the world but if I did that I would be lying. 

I want to write you a letter and tell you all the things I have ever felt in my heart but know it would fall on deaf ears. 

My heart  is crushed and broken into millions of tiny irreplaceable pieces.

I haven't had a mom in a very long time.

I want to write you a letter, and tell you all the things in my heart 

but you never wanted to hear them 

I want to write you a letter, but my fingers can't even hold the pen or type the words 

everything feels heavy, I don't want to sound like a vengeful daughter

But I can not pretend that I miss you and I am sorry you are gone.

I want to write you a letter, but I feel empty yet relieved

an empty like a gas tank on E; barely running on fumes

I have lived my entire life only getting a few drops at a time

Just enough to keep the hope that maybe someday you would love me 

I want to write you a letter but there is only a deep ache for things I will never have 

 my mind is still trying to wrap itself around why you hated me , why you spread that hate to your friends and made me the enemy

I want my words to make a fucking difference to you

 I want to write you that perfect letter full of love and admiration, but those are not feelings that I have.

I want to write all the words I ever needed to say, I want to write that I miss you every day, but really there is just so much hurt. 

Anything that I would write would not fit, people could never understand. 

My entire life I have been the bad daughter, my entire life I came in second.

Or not at all.  

I was the one that made too much noise, the one that was talked about and leered at.

I was looked down on my entire life, and there are no warm feelings of tenderness

I never wanted anything from you, but to be seen and heard

I am ever so angry, no I think it's almost hate

 I want to write you a letter, but you could never understand my heart

Not the little girl that I was once not the woman that I am today

I want to write you a letter; a beautiful remembrance of love and longing 

 So  I sit here this cold morning exactly one year after your death 

the feeling I overwhelmingly feel is Relief. 

 Here are the only things I know 

I know that I meant nothing to you. I know that you didn't like the woman that I was 

I know that I was judged by you no matter what I did 

How you would leer at me, from upstairs and offer no help, how you would laugh at my struggles offering no support

I made you angry when I didn't answer your every Becking call. 

I made you angry that I could not be your everything 

You hated that I was growing and getting stronger 

You hated when I did what was right for me and that didn't include you

You hated that I didn't let you in more but why would I when all you did was wound ?

You hated that I was my own woman, who wanted more from life

You hated that I was a fighter, and never gave up

You saw my journals saying I would love to read them someday, I was furious 

how dare you, I am right here in front of you

See me talk to me love me how I am

Just last week I found the letter, My brother was 100% beneficiary

Like a knife through my heart, I gave up my favorite house for you

I gave up the first place that was all mine where I was genuinely happy to buy a bigger house for you

I changed my life to make room for you, in the hope I mattered

I didn't.  I was a nothing.  I was not important.

This day a year ago, we were both struggling for life

only one of us made it.

I was sad for my children,  I was sad for my brother. 

Me, I felt a freedom, and a relief that I am not sure I will ever understand. 

This past year I have learned more about myself and have grown into who I am.  

That i am more self-sufficient that I imagined. 

That I have been doing things alone for as long as I can remember.

This past year I have struggled, I have thrived, and I have become more of me. 

I have learned how little I meant to you; I have learned that you were not kind

I have learned that I can do and accomplish almost anything.  

all on my own and be successful. 

I am in my home, that is all mine.  

It's time I open your bedroom door, make it a guest bedroom full of love and life. 

Today I am making the upstairs living room clutter free and a place where we all want to be. 

Today one year ago, they were doing everything to keep you alive, 

My brother was power of attorney, yet I was the one there being asked to make decisions 

Medicine and machines to keep you alive.  It was me the bad daughter that was asked to make the decision.  

When we got there you were already gone, no longer my mother or grandmother

 we stood at the hospital as you took your last breath. 

Even though I was hated, treated badly and so deeply hurt

there is a heaviness that a person can never understand unless they have seen it

Seeing the heart monitor, the nurse turning off the alarms, and slowly as seconds feel like hours 

slowly the line goes flat.  I ask the nurse, she is gone isn't she, he says yes and walks in the room,

They start unhooking all the tubes and lines, 

There is a finality, 

We stand there the three of us ; Vincent ,Mariska and I wondering what happens next. 

Today 365 days later, I am free, I am still processing and still the feeling is relief. 

I sit here crying because of relief, because I cannot imagine what life would be like with her here

Even in the last week I have learned things that cut like a knife, and I am still trying to wrap my head around them.  

So no, today I cannot write that loving, missing longing letter because those are not things that I have. 

I am grateful for the seasons when I did have my mom, when we could laugh, when she loved me even as few as they were. 

So I will take what comes today. One year later. Still on my own . Still relieved.

I loved you so mom, 

I heart your heart.