Love

I am grateful for our love. You are the man for me, always have been and for the rest of our lives. You love me, even with my temper, my insecurities, my joyful or sad tears, my angry streak that comes out sometimes, even if by 8 PM my brain is off, when I need you to play in my hair endlessly, or scratch that darn itchy spot I can't reach. You make me feel safe in your arms, and can even do it when we can't touch. I love planning our moving in together, our shopping on the phone, me with your girls, with you looking for my food processor at my house, and picking up all the forgotten stuff in my house, dropping off my 12 year old while convincing his Dad to spend New Years with us. Your heart is as big as mine, our bodies fit perfectly, and our souls are one.
I love you...much more than these words can express.

mourning their past

I reread some of your old blogs,
with new eyes, the words have new meaning,
I mourn your loss, at the same time as I dream our future.

I want to hate her, and I want to know her, understand her....
Part of me is scared, because it is like looking at me in the mirror so many years ago,
when I was that lost, scared, angry and alone.

There is a part of me I am questioning,
Why are my feelings so intense? Why do I NEED to do this?
not knowing what it is I am doing.

Am I wrong to treat others as I want to be treated?
Why does it surprise me that others don't understand my reasons for doing that?
Why is this need so powerful? Is part of me is healing, or will it hurt me in the end...

all I know is that I have never felt so strongly about what I AM doing.
I guess that is the reason I am doing it.

I forget to cry sometimes...

it took watching a show, with a touching end...and the river of tears has come. There is not one cause for this, but an accumulation of pent up,"I mustn't let the kids' see, I have no clue what is right, why is this so hard now, what do I need to do next, I need sleep!"
Yesterday, in a social worker's office as I had to explain my family tree, being the eldest of 5, the only child of my parents' union...how my maternal grandmother might have had a lobotomy, my maternal uncle killed himself, my hoarder mother, me... who's been in psych wards for various "crazy" behaviors, to my kids, who in their own way struggle. We've come a long way... I hope all my hard work pays off, and they can now skip the psych ward step of recovery. May they have better lives, may I continue being a better me, I pray for healing to continue. This year is HUGE for me and my kids... from being unemployed, single, struggling to see my youngest son, to being employed, in a healthy relationship, to having my son every week, and for me getting off meds I was on for 10+ years. It is ok for me to shed these tears, it is ok to feel exhausted, I am OK.

So, I had to ask my Mom to go home, or what is left of it. She lied to me about not being able to get in (she said she didn't have keys) I found out that they (her and her BF) fought the city's fire department's court order to sanitize and empty her house, so half the work got done. She now has the nerve to say they threw out all her good stuff and left her with garbage, when all there was in there was GARBAGE! I pity her insanity, but she is not doing what she needs to get help, so I have to protect me, and my kids. I am grateful to have had a couple good talks while she was here, and see the Mother, and the demons in her, yes I see the split.
I was left emotionally drained, and have yet to recover. My kids are all acting up too, so I guess it may take a while for things to settle down.
These last few months are the most stressful in many years for me, my youngest, who has lived full-time with his Dad since 2004, in now here full-time and is in a special behavior modification program, my middle child started grade 7 (high school here) and my 15 going on 30 year old daughter is blooming full speed into the "she knows it all" phase. I started a new job back in late winter at the same time I started my first healthy relationship EVER. He has 2 teenage daughters too, and is living his own "life stuff", so combined our lives are stressful-busy. We are due for a date night/weekend to ourselves (hint hint!). I need to work on having a bit of me time...
OK so I've needed to let this out for a couple weeks now, I feel a bit better.
thanks for reading :)

my Mom, a Grandma

quick update...
my mom was released, she stayed with my sister one day and one night, then spent a day and a night in the country with more of her dogs...then Saturday she and her boyfriend and a cat, came here. I came home from spending time in the country Sunday. Just 10 minutes ago, I saw her as a grandma for the first time...in 12+ years, to my 9 year old son, I was tearing up so bad I had to come upsairs to hide, and share this. I just know, there won't be many more moments like this. Unless she gets the help she needs... may she find it.

my sisters

I have 2 sisters and 2 brothers: 3 sibs from my dad's second marriage, and one sister from my mother's union with another man. My mother's other daughter, Bird as I used to call my anoying tag-along-brat-of-a-little-sister, we grew up in that house. Today we spoke for the fist time in years, she was in court all day to talk to laywers and my mom's "boyfriend".  The only way to describe the last 30+ hours is like waking to another demention. As I type this, my mother and sister are under the same roof for the first time in over 10 years... and tomorrow I get a car, first time in many years I'll have a car in my name. FREEDOM. I have earned the right to crawl into bed today.... did I meantion I have a sinus cold too?
Good night

my mom

today I found out my mom was arrested, again. same thing happened in 1996. they seized 37 dogs this time, and uncounted other furry and/or feathered creatures. I am numb right now, she needs help. animal hoarding. when I left her house we had 3 dogs and 6 cats, turtles, fish, and birds. I never understood non animal lovers, I have a cat and a dog. she doesn't know her grandkids' names, or ages, she worries about me not getting my dog fixed. I want to cry, but I can't.

all I know is that she was arrested last night, I drove up to see her house, the house I lived in from age 12 till I left at 18. the front door is boarded up, the lawn overgrown, she has a forest for a yard, her poor neighbors, and this daughter who cares, but know all I can do is wait, and watch this all unfold again. the city will go in and "sanitize" the house tomorrow, I will stop by after work, to see if I can speak to someone. they just can't let her out, she needs to be in hospital, she will be in crisis... I may have to bury her. maybe I want to bury her.
thank God, my tears are here, I thought I'd implode just a few minutes ago. I remember being a child, and wishing she'd die, I hope she'll get the help she needs. this will be the second time they empty and sanitize the house, this might kill her. if they let her out without a psych evaluation, what will she do? what am I supposed to do? she can't come stay with me, I fear for my kids' safety. hope to get some answers in my dreams...if and when sleep comes.
will update when I can.

I feel like writing...

so much time has passed since I started this blog, yet it's only been a few months, it was another step in my journey. I am hopelessly in love with him, I miss his touch right now. My work days are mostly long and hard, I want to crawl into him, and forget the tasks I need to accomplish once my outside work day ends... I want to lay in his arms and dream, and feel the wonders of our love, real life keeps creeping in...duties and responsibilities, to do lists, the kids' demands, overflowing sink full of dishes, the laundry pile that never ends, the cat meows and the dog barks.
As I get ready for bed, I hope of dreams of us, till I can snuggle into you, sweet dreams my love.

Today is a low day...

too many stress at once....
there is just not enough time, I just don't have the energy I need to accomplish all I have to accomplish, I am afraid I cannot handle this now. Will I manage balancing work, family, me....? Back to school is already stressing me out. I know this feeling will pass, but I don't like my reaction to it. Why am I mood swinging now? grrrrr I guess I need a a couple good night sleeps, my lovers strong arms around me, and better planning everyday stuff. My love wrote me a beautiful poem, he makes me weep, on a regular basis, in a good way, I am grateful he is in my life, even if it is my crazy life.

exhaustion

it's been 3 weeks and a few days since I am back at work...working full-time SUCKS! (except for the pay)
my nerves are shot, sleep won't come, and it's too late for the sleep aid. I'm getting the hang of this new pace, most days. At work I have the same route, still learning ways of shortening my work day...but my accumulated sleep deficit is catching up to me emotionally. Add this damn heat wave, I want to explode like a rain storm after a hot and humid few days, I want to be the storm. I have too many frustrations, and worries, and a teenage daughter who is acting up. I need to thunder and lightning, I need to rain down on all this, and in the morning, I'll be the fresh crisp air.
In 9 days I'll have respite...for 14 glorious days of  freedom, from the alarm clock....

Back to work for me

I started this new job way back in March, then Easter weekend I closed the car door on my thumb, I was off for 6 weeks, then there was the Postal strike, and a back to work law was passed and here I am....
I am praying to win the loto...life is overwhelming....stress at work...way too much lack of 8 straight hours of sleep, I am not a happy person without sleep...I am snippy.
I am grateful for my back rubs, foot rubs, and all rubs I am getting.
I like where I am working, I get to drive the mail truck downtown, and deliver mail that was stuck in the main office...yet not enough mail is getting out. All things considered I am doing ok for my day 13 at this new job. Today was a great day, I reached my goal of finishing my entire route in under 8 hours (the regular guys is able to do it within 5.5, or so it says in the books), this makes up for yesterday, when I had a mishap with a parked car...that delayed me an hour, then I hit traffic getting back to the office. I wonder how much longer I will stay at this Route 87? Being an on-call worker it can change week-to-week, and even day-to-day. Real life, full of ups and downs, one day I love this job, one day I don't...
The kids are doing ok with their full-time Mom now being a full-time worker, who is exhausted after work, and locks herself in her bedroom, and falls asleep before they do, and leaves for work before they wake. All for that dream, of us owning a house, adding my better half and his two daughters...I know it will happen.
2011 is going to full of changes, lots of preparing for 2012.
Good night.

acceptance

I need to be accepted for who I am.
I have learned to accept who my loved ones are.
I love my kids for their strengths and weaknesses; same goes for my lover and friends.
A couple of days ago, my mother called. She called because she had no one else to call, she needed to tell me about this new job she starts Monday. It is hitting me now, she needed me. I just can stop crying...
I am filled with guilt, not realizing how separate we are, it hurts to know about her everyday life, to know the man she is with wasn't there for her, and he may be abusive, she may loose her house, and her dogs. To hear the happiness in her voice telling me about this new job, all the while I was thinking, "How strange is this? She called me." She's been out of work for a long time, she is 61 years old, a nurse, she has never been well mentally...all I kept thinking was, how long can she hold this job down? She nearly lost her house in 1996, the fire department and the city condemned it as fire and safety hazard, the city took over the cleaning and emptying of her house, after we tried doing it with her, it cost her a lot, she remortgaged her house, cashed out all her savings fighting a losing battle against the city... she lost her job for the first time soon after. All she ever worked for is in this house, why do I not hope the best for her? In my heart I do, and I am racked with guilt  for giving up on her. I gave up calling on Mother's day, hoping that she'd know my kids' names, or getting a call from her on my birthday. I heard the suffering in her voice, I know the fear she feels not knowing where the next pay cheque will come from and when? I want to go hug her. I want to go buy her groceries, like she did for me, when I lived at the YWCA. Is it me wanting to mother her, or is it me wanting to be daughtered? Am I thinking of those around me who have lost a parent, and realize, once they are gone, all we have left are regrets. I have to take the risk of being hurt, and build a new relationship with her, I am just afraid of looking into her eyes, only to see my own shortcomings as her daughter. I accept who she is, but can I love her...?
I just remembered, now, she is only a woman, like me. Would I want my children to treat me like I have treated her?

Recovery Journal Entries

These are parts of my recovery journal, I reread these sometimes, to prove something to myself...not sure what, guess I love my selective memory :)


entry dated Nov.22, 2008
Pain and Healing
my mind, it's gone, it left, or is it coming back?
memories trigger shit, shit I don't want to think about yet, I know it helps, but first it hurts,
IT HURTS LIKE HELL.
remembering heals?
healing hurts?
I keep forgetting the pain of healing, forgetting is a good thing, sometimes...
this path I walk alone in my head, but in my life there are others, I need to protect, I also need help, most days it all seems too much for one person alone.
when to ask for help? when do I do it on my own?
I fear my own failures
life lessons
harsh ones, good ones, healing ones...
This will one day be a lesson I look back on, I know I will be proud, but for now I allow the fear to be felt, and reach out to the helping hands around me, while I also remember the perseverance that has gotten me to here, to today, to comfort the ones who need my protection.

entry dated June 17, 2009
Fight or Flight
lovers lie, they leave, lovers love, and they hurt.
my heart is still here, you are just not there to feel it.
we were lovers once, now it's time to be just friends.
you say, "it's just not meant to be:", my heart begs to differ.
tonight, there is no fight left in me, life keeps sucking it out of my tired body.
my heart is till here, you are just not there to feel it.

entry dated July 10, 2009
i wish
i wish i could have what i want
and that what i want matters to someone
i wish i could live forever
and that my life would be happy
i wish i didn't feel things so deeply that i didn't feel at all
why am i here now? why do i keep coming back to this?
why do i not listen to the little voice that guided me well for a short time?
when did i forget to smile?
I don't like this emotion, i wish it would end
I want to find my path again, i feel lost.
how do i get back home?

entry dated Aug.8, 2009
 Deja Vu

have I been here before?
was I just in your arms, my eyes open wide, or were they shut?
did I speak these words, my voice unheard?
it's time for bed, my mind won't sleep.
writing helps me see, but tomorrow I won't remember, until I find this again, like the thoughts of my yesterdays, all new tomorrow;  like the smell that lingers as I lay down, it will be gone when I wake.
my tears, wish they could be bottled, stored, and placed on a shelf, in full view....so I don't forget today.
That thought, I've had it many a time, and to my dismay, I keep going back....
these tears I don't let you see, they matter to me.

entry dated May 18th 2010
Border Line

today took strength, I know I am,

today took love, of myself and others,

I cry in my strength.

I hear you, did you hear me?

There is a difference between words and actions.

Wow, do I actually have these boundaries?

I see where I end, and you begin.

cool, this is me, that is you, says the borderline.

I chose these, because I can see  my evolution...

A Good Role Model

Some close to me tell me I am a good role model... but my baby girl, she fascinates me, all her strengths, and weaknesses, all touch this mother's heart. Growing up, I have adopted many Mom's and Dad's over the years, they were friend's/boyfriends'/husbands' parents...and it has dawned on me, I have now adopted many sons and daughters, my friends' children and many of my children's friends. I have become the mother/daughter I needed to be. Maybe that is why some say I am a good role model, today. I still often feel inadequate, but I do love myself, what I love even more are my kids, biological and adopted along the way. My daughter, my baby girl is now a 15 year old young woman, her heart is so good, she is wise, naive, smart and so beautiful...I can't write this without crying, for all the wrongs I made in her short life so far, I only pray I can make it all up to her, for the rest of my life. I do feel a rush to get all things done before she is an adult, some 31 months left of her childhood, I weep. I know I will still be her mom, in 32 months...and pray her life will be a good one, once she flies on her own. She has a great sense of right and wrong, she opens her world to me, and I am so proud to be her Mom, she isn't perfect, but in my "mommy"eyes, she really is. She has been my most influential teacher ever. I found a letter I wrote to her, about 4 months before she was born, my words were full of hope, and so naive. Like mother, like daughter. I struggled so much as a young mother and wife... love is the answer...it just me lots of misunderstanding that simple truth. I then thought if I loved others with all my heart, all would be fine, only to find out, if I didn't love me, the love I showed others would be empty of the true love we have to give. I worry about her heart being broken, broken cerfews, drugs, the internet, friends coming and going, hard life lessons, like what happens when your closest girlfriend kisses your ex-boyfriend. I was a terribly awkward teenager, I was a loner, a misfit: my mother is a hoarder, and was very paranoid about people, all people were bad. I knew from the second I was pregnant, my doors would always be open to friends...for a long time I lived with no curtains and doors unlocked day and night, just to be my mother's extreme opposite. That was something I learned about myself, all those years as a young adult, I wanted to be her total opposite, not realizing all I had to be was myself. Running in the opposite direction of her, I followed many of her mistaken footsteps....I woke one day, I was 31, and to my horror, I had ended up in the same lonely, ugly emotional place my mother had gotten to, after her second separation. We all carry the scars of our childhoods, some cover them with shame, or make-up, or fancy clothes, other wear them proudly as badges of honour. I hope she learns to forgive, herself and others, and that learns to love herself first, sooner than I did. I overcame, so will my beautiful daughter, I can put my worries to bed for now...The hardest part of being a Mom, is knowing when you have to let them learn it for themselves.

Love Letter, May 27, 2011

My Love, 
You knew it long before I did, what all this meant. I know it today, I believe it, I feel it...Just like I didn't know, after our first and second dates, that uncertainty scared me, your confidence in this scared me too. By now, was I not seeing what you did? Did I not feel what you did? When you said those 3 little words, that just SCARED me, I knew I felt a connection, an attraction...is it love? At that moment, "Love hurts, love doesn't last", that is all I could say with certainty.
What changed? I may have needed this time off from work, these endless lazy days that were all blurred into one;  reading "The Alchemist", "omens", laugh all you want, I have been an alchemist in my Fairyland Garden, and have even turned frogs into gold; my broken thumb, strange interaction with meds, leading me to stop them altogether,  unclear new job, car break downs, salamander hunting in your "backyard", each of us showing the other things of our everyday lives we never saw were there, all these overwhelming life changes... And all those words of yours I've read, here and there, many "omens", we have discussed the fact we may be reading into what we want, and that might be an "omen" too. The story of you "nearly falling off your chair" when I replied to your chat invite, the way our girls started planning our wedding the first day they chatted.... our many chat discussions, when we were getting to know each other, they day I shared my past diagnosis and recovery, when I thought I had made a huge mistake by sharing that, so early in our chats; your reaction to it, you healed a broken part of my soul with that single call.
I am in love with you, and I don't know how this happened, from one day to the next... You opened your life to mine, and I did the same. We've both loved others, this feels different, as all the others did ... I know I have rushed at love, scaring it away, forcing it to get my way... this time I walked slowly, cautiously, letting you lead me, or was it the universe guiding me? That is the difference I feel, in my heart, as it floods with one knowing feeling, LOVE.
I realize there is no need to question these things, that I know, and I thought by putting my feelings into these words would make it clearer...I doubt anyone reading this, other than you, will understand, but I needed to write and read it, to see it. Words just can't express this feeling, you already know that.

~Life prepared us perfectly for each other. ~ 

&

~I love you because the entire universe conspired to help me find you.~ 


    

In the Eye of the Beholder

You make me beautiful,
I see it, clearly in your eyes,
I feel it, lovingly in your touch,
I hear it, truly in your voice,
I can even smell it on your skin.

The universe works in mysterious ways.

I was ready for you to love me,
as you are ready for me to love you.
You have my heart, body and soul,
two beings sharing one life.
Life prepared us perfectly for each other.

PS: We have many "Thank you" notes to send 

Mother, Heal Thyself

 
My wounds are deep, and dark as violet blood.
My love is as pure as the white snow.
My knowledge is as limited as the seasons of my life.
My experiences, so far, have been most the colors and shades of the universe.
Today, the moment I realize another mistake I’ve made as a Mother, my heart shatters like the thin layer of ice my boots made crackle as I hurried home, then the tears come.
There are few things we can’t change; death or being born, or take back; a tear or a harsh word.
I focus on what I can change, the more I heal myself, the easier my role as Mother is becoming.
My focus changes, from time to time, to my other womanly roles; friend, lover, sister, and daughter: are all affected by my childhood.
It gets easier every day to switch from one to the next, some lines still blur, but my awareness grows.
I feel stronger than I ever have in my life today, the tears have come and gone, and my heart is light, and I know, somehow my sleep will be restful.

written Dec'08

Memories of a Madwoman

Written in the early 1990′s:

There are times I thought myself insane, as a result I have done a great deal of soul searching. You see to know who I am, I had to find who I was. The mind does strange things to protect itself from destruction, or harm. I was abused as a child, and to my surprise the people I had least expected to believe me, were the ones most willing to hear me out.

What you are entering is, or was my reality, some is fiction: stories I invented as a child to protect myself from a harsh existence. All I want to do is break the chain of abuse, for the silent sufferers of abuse, may it be physical, emotional and/or sexual abuse. We must talk about it, we must stop the suffering, and break the silence, break the chain. Our children will one day be doctors, teachers, and politicians: let’s make them good people.

I am a mermaid, golden hair,  beautiful dark eyes, six or seven years old. I’ve been caught by a fisherman, I am put in a cage as people stare at me strangely through the bars of my cell. Soon a woman appears, she is beautiful, with long blond hair, a small woman. She looks at me and tells everyone to leave, they do. Now the captain joins her and she turns ugly and wicked, she orders him to cut off my tail, he does, she tells him to throw me back, he does. I fall for what seems an eternity, I hit the water, it is ice cold and the salt burns at my raw flesh… Oh how I loved her hair, now how I hate her eyes…

A storm of emotion held in too long, erupts like a volcano. Anger and rage fill my soul. Words are hurtful, my fists are clenched. I rip out her eyes, kick at her face, laugh at her tears. I imagine a knife stabbing her, over and over again. I am wrapped in her warm blood, my hands shred her flesh, my mind is a rye, I feel nothing as I rip out her heart and eat it as she watches. Next to her body there lays a shard of glass, with a shock I see my reflection, I am stark naked, covered in blood, and I am a man. I run off into the night, with the soft glow of the moon, on my skin there are streaks of violet and red. I reach the sand and water, jump in and wash away the blood, I see my hands, they are like claws, a killer’s hands… the angel of death stands by my side.

Written today

My mother was the beautiful blond, she is a natural brunette, her hair is grey-white now. Last couple of times I saw her , I wept inside, she was once a beautiful blond. I do not see her as that wicked woman anymore, I know she suffered greatly and still does. Her other daughter, my sister, has told people our mother died for close to 20 years, she is estranged from me as well, I wonder what she tells people about me? I miss you my Bird. She friended my daughter over a year ago on Facebook, my daughter has even visited her Aunt and her then 2 cousins, she has three children now. My mother barely knows my kids' names, all she knows is animals, her animals. She is a hoarder, of things and animals. Needless to say, I cry watching hoarding shows on TLC. I grew up with her, I got my sister out of there when I turned 18, Liz, or Bird as I used to call her was 14. I had moved out, finally escaping that house, I was spending the weekend at my boyfriend's parents. I got a call, she was in a phone booth, in her pyjamas, it was winter. That was her last day in that house. When I got to her Dad's house, she was hiding behind the TV, she thought it was our mother at the door. I helped her Dad get custody, going to court was not fun, I was so young. My mother had her "team" to defend her, my Dad, my high school Principal, and their accounts of her older-trouble-maker-daughter. I did hate her, I don't anymore. After the trial, my relationship with my father deteriorated, that took many years to reconnect, again. He testified that "NO, he never saw marks of the supposed abuse". I remember staying up all night looking through photo albums, looking for that proof, I never found any, but then again, there we mostly Christmas pictures, maybe 20 or so in all with me in them. It dawned on me how little I did see my dad as a child. My sister did ok at her dad's house, her dad didn't do as well, she moved in with me when she turned 17, while I was pregnant with my first child, that didn't work out long either, she reentered my life when my daughter was about 4 months old. We were sisters again, for 6 years before she had enough of me in her life. We stopped speaking soon after her father passed away.

I've been hit with an emotional high tide, running back to dry land.

I will come back to edit.

Misfits and Ghosts

to those we look down on,
to the ones who just don't fit in,
to the ones who don't know how to love back,
to the ones who just feel, "not good enough",
to school yard bullies,
to the cold hearted ones,
to the ones seen as too: tall, short, fat, skinny, smart, slow.....
this list could go on and on.
These hurts, are carried all our lives,
some of us keep moving on, others fall behind.
To the ones who love us, with all they can, thank you.
To those who just can't, it's ok.
It's ok to walk away.
The ones who caused the initial hurt are often not around to mend the pain... 

or don't care to, that is where the answer is, in a perfect world, they'd come back,

from the past, even from death; and make it all better.

SV 02/10

old stuff

 ~*~

THE END

i never imagined this, the end
time passing, with nothing to do, but watch
all efforts, feel useless, futile
i've surendered, but to what?
doubting every move, every word, paralized
options, risks, benefits, never ending battles
the end is not what I imagined

 ~*~

<3

the kiss, missed
words, unspoken

where did my voice go?
the words pile up, swallowed down
choking
lips untouched, sewn shut

eyes see
skin feels
nose smells
noises heard

my silence
my prison

my hell

~*~

 THE BROKEN ONES

having failed at personal relationships often, makes me question everything.

I am not alone in feeling "broken" or "defective", my ex-spouces, lovers and even friends, what a huge task at hand: to love me.
in my opinion, a part of the reason is lacking unconditional love; whether from maternal or paternal sources....that is the one commonality I have seen.
As a mother, I wonder if I give it?
If one has never felt it, can it exist?
Why does it affect one person in one way vs another?
Why do I still hope for this unconditional love, at my age, and life experience?
Can you love yourself unconditionally, if no one else has before? If that is the case, do you have to love yourself first, or can it be learned, by being loved unconditionally?

~*~

DEAR LIFE

I am grateful for being here,
for the lessons learned;
for breath, today, that kiss, the teardrop, the sigh, 

the chance to be a mother, 

the joy, the pain, the lovers who have come and gone,

the friends, family, the rainbows, aniversaries, birthdays
my struggles, successes and defeats.
My memories...I hope I can keep those forever!

SV 2010

Borderline Personality Disorder

BPD, those letters defined my life, for 30+ years,  they don't anymore, and others have come and gone.... OCD, SAD, BP,  There have been many words too, like: "cry baby", "psychotic", "manic", "witch", "bitch", "overly sensitive", "Hypochondriac", lazy, too scared, too hyper, too tired, too sad, depressed, abused, victim, and then there was survivor....that is the one that sticks, and I am.

sur·vi·vor

noun /sərˈvīvər/ 
survivors, plural

1. A person who survives, esp. a person remaining alive after an event in which others have died
   • - the sole survivor of the massacre
2. The remainder of a group of people or things
   • - a survivor from last year's team
3. A person who copes well with difficulties in their life
   • - she is a born survivor
4. A joint tenant who has the right to the whole estate on the other's death
   

 ~*~

The details of what I survived get blurry, and at this point in my life, they matter little. I cope now, in healthy ways, mostly. Writing was a big part of my therapies, keeping a  journal was a great way to learn what works for me, what my needs are. That was key for me, knowing myself. Not looking outside for my needs, not looking outside for answers...I am in a new phase, learning to love again, going off meds that were so needed for a long time, and dealing with the terrible withdrawal, insomnia, and mood swings. My Dr, bless her soul, has seen me through my entire adult life, looking at me with eyes of a mother, "Sail into these unknown waters, use caution my child, I know you have awareness of yourself, that is now your True North Star. I will be here, waiting at this safe harbor, when and if you need me, I'll be here." As when I said farewell to my therapist, she had even kinder words of well wishing, saying she was sure I would do great things with my new found life. We hugged and cried, I miss her wisdom, or was it mine? I love how I reflected in her eyes.
It is sometimes hard to imagine how I used to live my life, the terrible choices I made, the things I lived, the things I put my family through...
I am proud of who I am, I still get baffled and overwhelmed in my life, but I move on, forward....into the light.
I now reach out to a great support system I built. Yes I built it without awareness of doing so.
I wish I could thank in person, all those who have helped teach or guide me. All the therapists, doctors, lovers, friends, fellow "inmates", fellow students of life, Internet friends, bath buddies .....
Thank you for your gifts, may it have been, harsh words, tough love, insightful moments, there was once a woman who just put her hand on mine, she didn't know why I was crying, not a word was spoken and it changed my life, that moment.
Be good to everyone, from the homeless man who babbles to himself, to the cop who pulls you over for speeding, to your boss who is always on your ass...they all have lessons to teach, the universe put them there for a reason, don't miss that lesson, whatever it is.
It may be to change something in your life, change how you judge, ignore a responsibility, you may need to learn accountability, or to open your cold closed broken heart. One thing is certain, until you learn whatever lesson you need to learn, the universe, or God, or whatever you believe in,  will keep sending you this message, till you understand.

Dark Side

I wrote this in Feb 2006:

 

letting the minutes come and go, waiting for tomorrow,

feeling fine, then the sorrow.

 

sometimes I day dream of my brain’s misfires,

I can see the messages sent, unknown desires.

 

touch, the only sense that feeds my hunger,

every nerve ending awake and eager.

 

my thoughts jump, over one another,

leap frogging, earasing then repeating over and over.

 

reality is just a moment away,

I like this little bubble,

tomorrow is another day,

hopefuly today will cause no trouble.

Mother's Day

pure contentment
being surrounded by so much love,
my three kids plus an extra one, my lover,
breakfast in bed, hand made gifts,
memories and treasures I will keep forever
this moment of pure contentment
even with the chaos of the three plus kids, lover and pets
this is Mother's Day

Crazy

hyper flusterable, yup, that's me
it makes me very happy to have flustered you
crazy little thing called Love
you've been blessed with sanity for most your life,
so your reaction might be more subtle
I am guessing my experience of my life's instability
is causing me to panic, in a good way
add the withdrawal,  my itchies, lack of sleep, and major life changes
that is a PERFECT storm waiting to happen
I want to stay up, watching the lightning filled sky,
then to dance in the rain with you
yes, love and insanity have the same chemical reaction in our brains
yet, my brain isn't yearning what my body does, at this very moment
no need to go blind, I'll use a blindfold on you
just get here to touch me
my Legs

"love and other drugs" x rated

you just left, I am love drunk
you are a very bad man, my clitoral terrorist
your weapon of mass stimulation fully spent, or so you say
my body throbs shivers and goosebumps, I had things to do,
but standing is a chore, so I sit, and write.
you call me a "goddess", I resist, I refute, but how can I?
your touch intoxicates my skin, your kiss consumes me,
the words you speak ... they burrow deep into me, paralyze and invigorate my being,
what a puzzle we are, I never imagined there could be a you to a me.
what touch whores we are, a hedonistic match made in heaven.
I love our word games, and wordless moments, my bad bad man.

"love and other drugs"

we lay as lovers do, we play as new lovers do;
yet desires have met and fit in perfect harmony.
all our lives experiences, good and bad,
have brought us here, in this not so roomy single bed.
rules have been broken, as it was meant to be,
I love our Morse code, and the book and sound track we are writing.
words unspoken, lines unwritten... or perhaps borrowed.
you know how to love me without having to be told, making love in the green grass, lost together, you've looked into my eyes and touched my face.

the fear is lifting, the sun is rising, it is a new day.

I am your brown eyed girl, and you are strong enough to be my man.

what a week...

I wonder if my daily struggles matter?
I know they matter to me, and those close to me, and at this point it is all overwhelming.
I have worked hard to get here, and back then I thought once that work was done, I'd be "worry free" here and now. That is completely false, because my here and now challenges all I have learned, and worked for. Will there be a time I can sit back and enjoy my life? Will I have those "rocking chair on the porch with the grand kids playing in the yard" moments? 
The universe will keep sending these struggles till I learn the correct lesson....maybe that is why when we die, we reach that "perfectness" that God is.
I'd rather learn a good 20 years before I go back to Him.

tree trunks

I was driving home today, when I saw a truck carrying tree trunks. I got sad, remembering how to tell the "age" of a tree...seeing the rings made me think of each of those rings, or years....short one for little growth, the long ones for lots of growth...like us, humans. I realized it saddens me to see a cut tree, the core of me hurts. Our years are marked the same way....these last couple years would be the longest rings on my trunk. I have grown in ways I never thought possible. These 20 trunks, how many stories can each individual tree tell, what about each ring, branch or leaf that grew on one tree...The things it saw in the last 20-50-100 years. Have you ever really looked at a leaf? I've always been fascinated with human reproduction, but what about that leaf, how many processes did it take for it to go from bud, to green leaf to red or brown once it fell off? The sun, the rain, the cold dark winters, forest fires, logging...
As a tree I'd never want to be "cut-down", I want to fall, gracefully at a meter diameter, after an ice Storm. I want to be climbed, I want birds to nest in my branches, couples to carve hearts and initials, and a tire-swing on my lower branches...once I have fallen, I hope that someone uses me to build a fire, for heat and light, we'd come full circle, together, my tree self and the one who wrote this.

Hello, I have a story to write...

Here I am, I was led here by a fellow student of life.
I'll start with August 8th 2004, many things died that day, but I wasn't one of them, thank goodness. It was a dark day, marked by rain, smoke and sirens. I executed my departure plan perfectly; I emptied my purse, I left my wallet, my rings and a note. I carried my water and many pills in my now spacious purse, smokes and a light in the pocket too, and every 5 steps or so, I'd stop to swallow some, I remember that part clearly. As the terrible thoughts and ghosts that had haunted me for 31 years did there "thing" on my drunken body and mind, I walked for a while, I knew where I wanted to lay down...this is where my plan failed, I never made it into the woods, I didn't get to lay under trees till all my pain would go away... The cold rain convinced me to lay under the overpass, things get blurry here, I know I knocked at some one's door, asking for a blanket, I think I got handed a towel, as I did lay trembling, I decided to build a fire, that's when I remember being asked to stand, I try and end up rolling down the hill. The next thing I remember is waking up muddy in hospital, that was 2 days later. I remember bits and pieces, my Dad is there, I see both my ex's, the last one tells me, "there is no way you can come home.", someone brings me coffee...there are many people who ask the same questions, same answers given and within 6 days, I am out. That is where my journey to recovery began, that first night out of the loony bin, with 2 small children in tow, I needed to find us a home. Looking back now, I wish I had stayed inside longer, I regret those first few months .... but I guess that was what we had to live to get to where we are now.

I've returned to that place, where I set the fire, where I've buried many letters there, to God, my children, my ex, I finally let go of that past, it took years, and I learned to forgive myself and that I'll write about that later. In therapy, I was told I lit that fire because I wanted to live, it took a long time for me to understand that and even longer to believe it.