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.