HUGE!!! EPIPHANY!!

Man!  I seem to get the best epiphany’s when I’m on the treadmill!  This one may be thee most ground-breaking epiphany I have ever received!  I know someone else could benefit from this too!

Background…

I mentioned yesterday that a guy I was speaking to briefly ended up making really bad choices.  Due to his choices, I finally judged someone by their ACTIONS and cut him off.  His response to that was intense.  I quickly discovered he could do, or say, whatever he needed to get a reaction out of me…. even an ugly one.  Yet, I couldn’t seem to block him from my phone.  Mind you, I kept clear boundaries and hardly talked to him, but I wouldn’t block him. It was baffling to Julie why blocking someone on my phone is so difficult.  I didn’t know what to tell her…

Today, as I walked on the treadmill, he begged me in text to be able to see me.  How unfair he didn’t get that opportunity.  How desperate he was to prove to me we were meant to be together.  He even said that he would take off a day of work to meet me for lunch.  The thought of seeing him made me feel genuine caution and fear.  The feelings of fear actually surprised me.  I had never labeled those feelings as that.  And, as I jogged, I started asking myself WHY I didn’t cut someone off that scared me. I felt myself cycle through my brain trying to identify when I felt that before.  I wanted to know why I kept talking to someone that I felt concern/fear over.  And, at that moment, I realized WHY!  It’s because of this insane feeling of immense GUILT.  I didn’t want to hurt anyone like I had been hurt.  I thought by keeping him around that it would soften the blow and I wouldn’t be punished.

THEN I asked myself when I had felt those feelings of guilt before (trying so hard to make sense of all this) when it hit me like A TON OF BRICKS!!!!!!!  HOLY SHIT!  I felt these SAME feelings with MY MOM!  Nothing stopped her from hurting me either.  She was going to have her way no matter what.  Her insane paranoia and inability to apologize wounded so many… but especially me.  Yet, I took her back repeatedly because I thought that’s what “good” children do.  Her insanity never stopped until I cut her from my life.

Yet, I am still repeating the cycle with relationships!  It is FAMILIAR to me!

How many of us stay with abusive people because we still allow our parents to abuse us?  I mean heck.  If that door is ‘’open’ and acceptable then isn’t spousal abuse?  Our mom/dad/brother/sister tells us we are fat, useless, and a problem… so what’s so wrong if a partner does it?

Or how many of us have drawn boundaries with our families… yet we find ourselves in similar relationships?  Lies and abuse is all we’ve known so why expect any different in our relationships?  It’s acceptable and normal.  Even if, to the outside world, it’s insanity.

Here’s my Truth – and Hopefully Yours – You do NOT have to keep ANY doors open where abuse resides.  I don’t care if they birthed you or share your DNA.  Cut them out…. Or at the very least stop apologizing to THEM and draw a clear boundary.

God does Not want us to be susceptible to ANY form of abuse.  It is Not okay to be afraid of someone’s reaction.  It is Not okay for ANYONE to make you feel less that who you actually ARE.  You don’t have to be with another version of the parent that wounded you.  You can say no.  It’s called a boundary.  It’s called growth… and it’s called loving yourself.  Brian’s choices led me to blocking him.  I have nothing to feel guilty about.  My moms paranoid abuse led me to blocking her out of my life.  It doesn’t make me a disappointment or a bad child.

Where are your open doors?  Where are mine?

Life update

I take a few deep breathes as i sit down to gather all of my thoughts.  I want to be honest.  I want to talk about what had me shaking today.

1.  I have been inwardly freaking out after i upset our landlords when the kids damaged the fence.  We are no longer under a lease so it's just month to month.  She never said that they wanted to, but because of my history i immediately went into flight or fight mode.  Scared.  I didn't tell anyone.  I just stuffed it.

2.  Then Jadon broke the garage door.  That made me even more scared.  I tried to find a way to fix it on my own, but that didn't work out well.  I could feel myself wanting to hyperventilate at the worst case scenario.

3. Parent teacher conferences are next week.  I have to take off of more work ....and i dread what they will tell me.  things seem to be improving for ben since He got into adt.  Joshua is avoiding the bully.  Jadon found a group he seems to click with and his grades have improved.

4. Finances.  I am struggling and anxious about all that's on me.  It's always something.

5. Camping.  I do not want to go camping this weekend.  At all.  God has provided everything I need, but i do not want to do it.  It's going to be cold and I'm vastly intimidated.

6.  My weight.  I have to literally peel myself out of my pants every day.  I disgust myself.  I'm trying to start at a good place, but it's overwhelming and I'm so tired at night.  I hate my weight and I hate that i am not happy with what I see.  It's all consuming.

7. Being a single mom is no joke.  Between working, problems at school, activities, cleaning, refereeing all the fighting, sickness, etc... I just want to sleep all the time.

8.  Sex.  I miss it every damn day.  I am not like most women.  I need it.  I am so proud I've been without for so long, but dammit.  I might hurt someone if I don't relieve stress soon.

9.  I do not want Jason, but it's so unfair to see him so happy.  They are in mexico right now.  Not alone, but I am.  I's just so unfair.

9.  Men. Before I get into this I want to make it clear that i am not interested in anyones opinions on if I should be dating or not.  I haven't talked about any of this except with two specific friends for that reason.  The kids minds and hearts have been protected through all of this.  They are not around any men.  When they are home it's just us.

 I've gone through a few things lately that has shown me alot, left me disappointed, and scared me.  i know what i want and don't want.

• Jake.  Boy.  Meeting him was instantly comfortable.  Listening to his stories growing up both horrified me and gave me hope.  I liked everything about being with him.  I found out that I could show love (not in love,  but love) easily.  It didn't die with Chad.  I had a brief taste of what it feels like to be touched in a hallway and how safe it felt to sleep beside someone.  Then he went home to Oklahoma.  And I discovered that as much as I adored my time with him.... I dislike the ice king he was away from me.  I would get all excited about seeing him and he would say things like, "I can't say I'm opposed to the idea."  He was alot like Jason.  He couldn't give compliments, but he sure could send amazing flowers.  (truly.  I don't think I'll ever get anything that beautiful again.)  I showered him with attention.  Found out everything about him, but he didnt return the avid interest. His heart was still too shattered by his ex and nothing I could do would ever break behind those walls.... so I walked away.  I thought I did it gracefully, but today I found out that I didn't.  I guess I hurt him which is shocking news to me.  Truly shocking.  Shocking that he could be hurt and shocking that he liked me enough to be hurt.  In the end, God protected me from being with another emotionally disconnected man.  Gifts are nice, but i want the man.  Good and Bad.  

• Robert.  He's was a friend for about two years.  I always kept him in friend zone.  I knew he liked me, but whenever i was around him all I could see was a wall and a big flashing sign that said, "FRIEND ONLY,"  He tried to pursue me, but I kept pushing him off.  That hurt his feelings.  He seemed to think he could be good to me and the boys, but I just couldn't do it.  I met him for one lunch and felt nothing.  When he didn't get what he wanted he lashed out.  My response?  Some anger and blocking, but it didn't move me.  His reaction just made me see that the friend only neon sign had a reason.  Lesson learned.

• Brian.  We instantly clicked over the fact that we both over came alot of insanity in our child hood.  I was drawn to the fact that he didn't let life get him down.  He made choices to relocate all four of his children away from his drug addict ex wife and start over from scratch.  That takes balls and determination.  It takes strength to refuse to be like your family.  Refuse to be on drugs and refuse to be an alcoholic.... to choose your kids.  He was so attentive. Everything Jake wasn't.  I never had to question his excitement to talk to me.  He listened to me when I gave parenting advice and cheered me on when I needed it.  He had a lot of promises that seemed really nice... but then Saturday happened.  I discovered what his real priorities were.  He vanished.  He swears no woman was involved, but I really don't believe him.  I know what he DID choose to do instead of being with me and that was enough.  Ironically, I am SO glad he made those choices and we never met.  His response to me cutting it off was quite intense.... Just as intense as his avid interest for me on the positive side.  Again.   God protected me.  Good Lord God protected me.  The beautiful thing is that i FINALLY Finally Finally saw someone for their actions and not their empty words.  This, my friend, is Huge!

That brings me to today.  I get a hateful text (that I later learn was sent out of being hurt) from Jake.  I have been so unfeeling and unattached, but today I engaged.  It was ugly for a little while, but then I heard him and I felt bad.  I saw that I hurt him. Granted, it's his fault he gave me scraps to deal with, but in his ice world he gave all he could.  Then there was Brian.  Flipping out in text.  Begging me to forgive him.  I felt nothing.  Just a flat hell no.  Between the two of them, and all my other stressers, I shook for about an hour.  I made the choice to work out at lunch and as I worked out I prayed that God would help me.  That he would take some of this pressure off of me.  As I prayed I found my stride.  It's been a long time since i found my stride at the gym... and then I heard the holy spirit to tell me to contact my landlord and talk with her candidly.  I worked out hard and went back to work... and as I drove back to work something struck me.  Chad didn't love me.  That or he's a psychopath.  He dropped me like a hot potatao.  Quite like I did with Brian.  But.  I had never met Brian.  I never told him I loved him.  I had no ties to him.  But Jake?  It hurt to talk to him today.  It hurt that he told me so emphatically he had no interest i me.  It hurt that i hurt him.  I didn't love him, but I do care.  If he asked me for another chance I'd give it to him.  Chad treated me like I treated Brian.  This was after he swore to love me, called us family,made love to me,call himself my husband - the list goes on.  He is either a psychopath or never loved me.  This reality gave me more closure.

Then I get to work.  I text my landlord.  Express my insecurities.  She assures me I have nothing to worry about.  Then we talk about how I handled the garage situation.  I shouldnt have tried to take care of it myself.  I should have told them about it.  I apologized and all that stress went off of my shoulders!!!

Then!  Joshua's teacher reaches out asking when I can meet with her for ptc.  I express I have to take more time off of work and she OFFERS to do a conference on my lunch hour over the phone!!!  No one has ever offered that in five years!  I honestly choked up. That would mean I have to take less time off of work, but I still get to do what I need to do.  God.  You heard me.  You are good.

Then!  Yoly messages me that the fall item I requested is done.  I ask if I can write a check (I asked over a month ago) and she tells me that it's a gift.  I honestly wiped away tears.  I have been challenging myself all season long to find things to be thankful for.  I lost that beautiful ability with Jason.  And Here God used someone to give me the gift of Fall.

This may all seem Silly to you, but it's real to me.  God is in the big and little things. He showed me today that he hasn't abandoned me.  That he's here.  He hears me and Sees me.  I listened to His direction and big things were taken off of my shoulders.

And, at the end of the day, I ate a decent dinner.  I chose to eat rice noodles with my spaghetti instead of wheat...  and now I communicate all of this so that it'll be off of my shoulders.

I am so lonely, but I'm doing it.  With God.  With myself  And with my Boys.  Not to mention the beautiful friends that love me and care about me.  They show my boys love by buying for their selling events.  They love us all by cheering me on.  I adore all of you.

Now to get a heavenly snickerdoodle hot chocolate. lol

To Love

I have been meditating a lot on what love looks like.  I know that most of you will think this is going to take a turn into scripture, but it's not. 

In these recent months i've really looked at what my strengths and weaknesses are.  For so many years, with Jason, I never thought I loved enough.  Or parented enough.  I felt like a constant failure. Then I met Chad and discovered I can love and love so well.  I thought it was because I was made to love 'him', but the truth is that I'm simply made to love.

Think about that.  It's a powerful statement.

I was made to love.

I love in so many ways.  I love in my verbiage.  I love with my thoughts that turn into actions.  I love with my loyalty, my smile, and my touch.  I love with my planning, structure, and honesty. I show love in my quirky humor.  I love in my ability to make anyone feel instantly safe and comfortable with me.

Its quite a beautiful thing to finally see that within myself.

But then there comes my shattered reality that I may love well, but I can't seem to BE loved.  Is it because I'm unlovable or because I pick bad?

This weekend was a turning point for me.  I had three people cancel on me. In all fairness, the third missed their flight, but that left me financially responsible for everything.  I had a choice to stay home or face my disappointment and go alone.  I put a happy face on it on facebook, but in all honesty I bawled myself to sleep on Friday night.  I barely slept because it was a new place with new noises.  I felt so alone, but i refused to let it cripple me.  I actually took all of it in relative stride which i never would have done a year ago.

And what did I do the first two days?  I found christmas gifts for people i love.  I made the choice to look all around me instead of within me.  I helped sisters get a perfect photo.  I made sure I was warm to all around me.  I went to new shops.  I didn't feel god through any of it, but I saw Him in the ways certain things happened.  A purchase i've wanted for over 10 years that was 65% off.  I saw it how I 'happened' to find the hiking trail that led to a bucket list being scratched off.  I saw it in the choice to trust the random hiking signs telling me it Was a loop so just keep going. (lol) The crazy deals i got for others.  I kept refusing to let myself stew in self pity with the thoughts that what I had wasn't good enough.

Then, as I drove home, depression hit me really bad.  Chad and I would have been together one year in just three weeks.  I cannot stay on a faithful cycle to lose this weight.  The guy I actually Gave a chance to is married to his work and thus on an island all his own.  I couldn't reach him if I owned my own canoe.  I'm insanely sexually frustrated, but so proud I've gone as long as I have.  I started to choke on the wonderings why i'm not able to be loved.  Mad at myself that I hate myself so much and feel incapable of ever accepting who I am.

Then I heard this still small voice.  It asked me how I show love to others... well.  I show love with compliments and thoughtful deeds.  I show love with attention and alone time.  I show love with touch.  Laughter.  As I pondered that I was flooded with memories where I Have loved myself!  Every hot bath I take is an act of love.  When I walk my dog or exercise I'm loving myself.  When I snuggle my dog or kids I'm loving all of us.  When i cook a yummy meal I'm loving myself.  All my damn cleaning and structure is loving myself!  Climbing a mountain is loving myself!  Even all my damn selfies is self love... because I'm actually appreciating what I see.

So here's to Love.  What I wouldn't give to feel that love returned to me, but until then I am going to Love Others.  Love Animals and Love myself the only way I know how.  Maybe some day the ability to like myself will come hand in hand.

Catch 'Phrases''

“Catch Phrase’s”.  They can be so irritating or extremely profound.  I think it all depends on the timing in which you speak them.  (Timing, in itself, is an entirely other soap box.)

I used to have a few that I used all of the time.  I quit saying them, but I’ve found their truth to be creeping back into my life.

1.  I am not crazy.
2. The devil will tell you a truth to sell you a lie.
3.  You can’t see your own headlights.
4. Honor God and He will honor you.
5. An ugly truth is better than a pretty lie

First: I am not crazy.

Today I had an interesting conversation with Jason and Nara.  They always blame me for their actions.  It’s A typical, and a dance I’ve done my whole life.  It started with my mom, but in a different form.  She expected perfection out of a child.  When I couldn’t match that perfection, she would lash out horrifically.  She would always blame me for the abuse.  She could never apologize for her wrongs.  Much later, in my adult years, she finally admitted her inability to apologize was because to do so would admit she was a failure… and she had been running from that reality her entire life.

The sad thing is that I was as close to perfect as a kid could be.  I jumped through hoops to make her happy.  I learned young to always have a clean kitchen.  Did all I could to not wake her.   I didn’t have sex.  I didn’t do drugs.  I didn’t drink.  I read books.  Eventually, ended up online in chat rooms, and was everyone’s counselor.  From a young age all I wanted was to be loved by my mom and my dad.  That desire morphed from to wanting it from friendships or boyfriends.  At 17 that desire morphed into wanting to be good enough for God’s love.  I even went to church groups who would train me to be a “prophetess” or whatever it is my giftings were.  I wanted to help people.  I wanted to be loved, but I was never good enough or pretty enough.  And, my god, I sure tried to be both.

Then I met Jason.  He was the first guy to ever fight for me.  He saw such beauty in me in the beginning.  I remember him pointing out my flaws, his flaws, and our strengths – how they’d mold together.  We had this vision that we would be in full time ministry and help others. He was drawn to my charismatic nature.  I was drawn to the parts that seemed stable… but mainly I was drawn to his choice to fight for me.  The relationship was rocky, at best, from the beginning.  We were in a cult.  The pastor liked his temperament better and drew him in close and pushed me away. Jason and I would fight.  He never wanted me.  Ever.  He’d rather watch porn then be intimate with me.  I grew up being told I was fat and ugly so I took his lack of interest as proof I was ugly.  Good god.  I was so skinny then!  Whenever we’d fight the group would tell me I was jezebel and God was going to get me if I didn’t submit.  I can distinctly remember laying in bed beside Jason thinking God was going to strike me dead.  Jason would push all my buttons and then sit back feeling validated he was the ‘victim’ when I would erupt in anger.  Jason would affirm that the pastor was right to skip his ownership.  The cycle remained for 15 years until I finally said enough… but even then I held on for almost two years fighting for my useless marriage.  I didn’t want to disappoint God and I didn’t want proof that I wasn’t worth fighting for.

Dating world started.  I seemed to find nothing but cheaters and liars.  I would lose my shit when I found out.  It never failed.  They’d sit back and almost smirk because they got to label me “crazy.”  Their liability of destroying my faith in them, our relationship, and even myself was swept under the rug.

Second: The devil will tell you a truth to sell you a lie.

The devil is clever.  He always tells you a truth to sell you a lie.  I was constantly fighting the battle to figure out which is which.

1. ·         “Yes. I’ve gained weight, but does that mean I’m ugly?”
2. ·         “Jason won’t touch me and flinches when I kiss him.  Am I nasty or is there something wrong with him?”
3. ·         “Xyz cheated again.  I lost my temper.  Am I crazy?”
4. ·         “He broke up with me.  What did I do wrong?  I must really be worthless”
5. ·         “My kids had a bad day at school.  I must be failing as a parent.”
6. ·         “Cereal for dinner.  I really suck as a mom.”

I have always personalized rejection.  I have always assumed it’s my fault and never gave them their ownership.  The truth is I did gain weight, but I’m not ugly.  Jason didn’t touch me because he’s a piece of shit.  It had nothing to do with my taste or looks.  Did I look crazy losing my shit on a cheating asshole?  Yes.  But I am not crazy.  I was crazy hurt.  All kids have good and bad days.  It doesn’t label me as a bad parent… and seriously.  Cereal is a meal.  The kids are eating.

Then there’s the predicament with apologies. I’m so determined to be nothing like my mom, or previous abusers, that I went to the other spectrum and apologize for EVERYTHING and ANYTHING.  I genuinely don’t want to hurt anyone.  I want to own my mistakes and fight for things/people I think are worth it.  Sadly, before my meds, I would get hurt and react instead of responding.  That only pushed people farther away and affirmed I was the problem.  The self-hatred and doubt has been a monster battle.

Enters in today’s amazing conversation…

I am discussing the fact that Nara’s youngest son hurt the boys yesterday.  It went down a rabbit hole where she tried to say I was ‘’unstable” and that’s why they do what they do. They pointed out the two instances I lost my shit with them. I genuinely laughed!  They were both two years ago at the height of the ugliness.  They continually broke the law and refused to give me the right of first refusal.  They hid the kids from me.  I saw her driving down the road so I followed her to the police station where I had every intention of retrieving my kids from her, but Jason wasn’t in the field and met us there.  I cried and was so upset but the cops could do nothing. Second, it was thanksgiving week 2 years ago.  He hadn’t let me talk to the kids for a DAYS because he refused to follow the law/judges orders and give me my nightly call.  By Sunday I was a basket case.  I thought they were to be returned by 10:30am and when I heard NO WORD FROM HIM, after many texts, I went to their home and raised an embarrassing scene to get my kids back.  Yes.  I cussed and yelled.  Was it the right thing to do?  No.  Absolutely not.  But WHY did I do that?

Here’s the thing.  Jason and Nara have broken natural and spiritual laws many times.  Yet, when I react to it they get to play the victim and call me “unstable” or “crazy.”  I am neither.  I pointed all that out to them very logically and in return she refused to pick the kids up from school on Wednesday.  I genuinely laughed when she told me I play the victim.  I can’t tell you the times I’ve owned things when they NEVER have. 

The beautiful thing is that I don’t care.  I know logically they are wrong.  I didn’t let them goad me into a fight and when she refused to get the kids I prayed and found another way.  The kids know.  They often tell me they don’t believe they are Christians by the way they act.  Jason and Nara are the ones who will lose out on an extra night with the boys.  Sadly, the kids are relieved that’s the case.

Third: You can’t see your own headlights.

I really don’t like myself and I’ve lost faith in almost every man.  I cling to the few I know are worthy of respect because they are like a light on the hill.  I am extremely hard on myself if I’m not ‘perfect’ whether in appearance or action.  But, that’s not fair.  Maybe I’m 20 lbs over weight, but does that mean all my good has flushed away with it?  Chad says it has.  My demons tell me it has... but does that make it true?   How do others see me?  As a bright LED light or a dim dingy light?

Fourth: Honor God and He will honor you.

He is real.  I’m doing what I can to start trusting him, but it’s hard because I honestly feel like he’s failed me when he made me… but then that goes back to number 3.  Yet, as I talk to him and acknowledge Him I see where he is rebuilding my life.  He truly is the best husband I could ever ask for.  He loves me and cares for us in big and small ways.  I can’t give up on him.  We are going back to church.  Joshua’s prayers are so beautiful.  He is providing.  My home finally feels like my home.

Fifth: An ugly truth is better than a pretty lie

I truly hate lies.  They are evil, corrosive, and destroy everything.  Truth will always set you free.  It may be painful at first, but there is always freedom.  So ironic I demand truth, and always give truth, to everyone but myself.  It can’t be the truth that I’m unlovable and a piece of shit.  It just can’t.

Wounded animal

*I thought I should do a clause to say that I may feel all of these dark thoughts, but I have no intentions of any self-harm.*

I thought if maybe I sat down and wrote out how I’m feeling that I would feel better.  It usually does.  My feelings will often flow through my fingers and find some measure of closure in space.

I am lost.  Really truly lost.  I hate myself.  I truly wish God would have mercy on me and put me down like the wounded animal I am.  Farmers do it all the time.  Isn’t he the ‘great shepherd’’?  Isn’t there a ying and yang to the natural vs. the supernatural?  If a farmer can have mercy on a wounded animal can’t the great shepherd?

Chads texts haunt me.  Just as he wanted. He found his happiness because he isn’t the problem. I am a 38 year old woman who has a broken brain.  I’m 20 lbs over weight.  Kids are struggling.  Disposable trash.  My hair is falling out.  Thankfully less after I changed meds, but it’s thinner.  I’m not even worth a good fuck anymore.

Why does God make me live?  Seriously.  Why?  Does he love watching people suffer?  Why can’t he just put me out of my misery?  No one would miss me.  Maybe my kids for a while, but it seems like all the good I thought I was doing is in fact not good enough either.  I can see no reason to keep me on this earth.  What worth am I when I’m sick and unlovable?

I detest myself, but I’m stuck in it so now what?  The doctor doubled my anti-depressant med yesterday.  Maybe that’ll help?  The first few moments that I woke up my head was clear.  I laid there going over what the scriptures say about me.  That I am loved.  The apple of his eye.  I felt a measure of peace.

Then I stood up.  And it was as if all the memories of chads words and my life flooded down into my brain.  He’s in love.  She’s a better mother and won’t let him meet her kids.  She’s 29.  125 pds.  Mind you, I was at that age too.  She’s stable.  Pretty.  Kind.  She’s better in every way physically and sexually.  I’m a psycho that no one stays with.  Even Jason finally had enough of me.  I’ve had an abortion.  She’s std free. How he laughed at my tears.  Even accused me of using him for a paycheck.  Which is insane!

My friend told me, “Stop believing him even if it is true.  Believe in what you want to be and in time it will happen.” I liked that.  What do I want to be?  Stable.  Loved.  Good at what I do.  Loving. 

I sobbed such heart wrenching sobs on Monday that my body shook and my eyes swelled up.  I am so sorry for who I am, but this is the best I can do with what I’ve been given.  I look around my life and see it in shambles.  Even down to my trampoline.  It all fell apart after Chad.  Is it because Chad left or because my life was no longer submitted to the Lord?  I remember so many praise reports of God providing.  Of being thankful.  I had some measure of joy… so I told God I would submit my life back to him.  It can’t be worse then this.  So I pulled out Isaiah 54:5. He’s my husband.  Lord of heavens armies is His name.  He is my redeemer.  The holy one of Israel.  Romans says that nothing will ever separate me from his love.  Me.  I’ll try to not ruin my kids.  Try to focus on God.  Help others if I can.  No love. 

Okay.  But why would He keep a wounded animal alive only to suffer? I really don’t want to be me anymore.  I seriously can’t even look in the mirror without cringing. My eyes are hallow and sad.  I can see nothing good to fight for. I just want mercy.  I want this torment and suffering to suffering to go away.  Either fix me or put me out of my misery.  Please.

Responsibility

I sit here wrestling with so many thoughts, emotions, and memories.  You’d think I’d be excited, or peaceful, discovering my roots of why I do what I do, but I’m not.  I feel overwhelmed and nauseous. 

I have been experiencing deep heart wrenching grief.  I’m thankful for the few that understand, but I know most are ‘’over it’ and may even think I’m trying to get attention.  I’ve realized in the last few days that this isn’t about Chad, per say, but something far deeper.  The belief that was instilled within me at a very young age that I am not lovable.

I always thought the root was the day I had to get a blood test to prove my dad was my biological father.  It was a very traumatic moment that I remember in vivid detail.  I remembering being tied down.  I remember the screams of terror.  I remember my mom Leaving the room as my life blood left my body because that selfish bitch ‘’couldn’t handle’ it.  I remember the scars and message that sent me.  I always stopped there.  I never looked into my earlier years.

Until this weekend.

I was molested when I was 5 years old.  It continued until I was 10 by various babysitters and neighbor kids.  I know this and I talk about it with no problems.  It’s totally untouchable to my emotions. 

I can tell you that my dad left when I was 10 months old.  He left because there was no work, he was an alcoholic, and beat my mom.

I can tell you that my mom was an alcoholic and drug addict until I was 3.  I can tell you that I’m proud she cleaned herself up, but that she still very much had the personality and abusive techniques of an alcoholic and drug addict even after she was clean.

I can tell you that the one thing my mom did for me was stand up to one of my sexual abusers.  I told her when I was about 8.  I remember that sticking out to me because it was the first time someone stood up for me.

I know all that like text book… but here’s what I didn’t know.

1.  I am the mother I am today because OF my mom; not just despite of her.  There were a few times people wanted to adopt me or take me away from her abuse, but she would never let me go.  Her own mother abandoned her as a young teen.  She swore I would never know what that felt like.  I remember, at the time, wishing she’d change her mind, but now I see that truth was deeply ingrained in me instead.  It's the foundation that I’ve clung to.  To fight for my kids no matter what. 
2.   Sexual abuse.  I never felt wanted, or noticed, until my sexual abuse started at age 5.  It was traumatizing, yes, but I was noticed.  I was seen.  This is one of the main reasons I associate sex to love.  Sex to being noticed and wanted.  It’s all I’ve known.  My grandma loved me, but my family had weird issues with sex.  Like a belief that we were only valued for sex that came even from my grandma.

Ugh.  Just writing all that makes me sick to my stomach.  Grief and shame floods me in waves.

But then there is also pride.  Shock.  My mom actually gave me something GOOD!  Her tenacity to keep me put a GOOD tenacity within me to do the same for my kids no.matter.what.   I cried different tears realizing that.  Maybe redemptive tears for her?  I don’t know.

But then counseling happened yesterday.  Weekends are hard.  I think it’s the exhaustion from the week that hits me.  But two people, who know me well, have taken one look at me and told me I look tired.  I am tired.  So. Deeply tired.  Between the nightmares and mind fucks – I haven’t felt safe in a long time.

So.  I sit down in the counselor’s office.  She tells me I look tired.  I tell her I am.  She’s never told me that before so it stood out to me.  I told her all I had realized the weekend before about my mom and the abuse.  I find myself, crying, again how deep the wound is that Chad threw me away.  All men have thrown me away.  How mad I am at God that He made me UNLOVABLE.  Just trash. 

It was then she looked at me and asked how old I was when my dad left.  I told her ten months old. He left because he was an alcoholic, couldn’t find work, and beat my mom… But that I was a cholicy baby.  I was told that all I did was cry and exhaust everyone.  She asked me if a baby is responsible for crying when it’s in pain.  I said no.  But it can drive people away and my dad never acknowledged me after that.  Not even a birthday card.

Her eyes brimmed with compassion and she asked me, “Janine.  When are you going to stop carrying everyone else’s responsibility?”  I stared at her in bafflement.  “huh?”

She got three objects.  One represented my dad.  One represented me.  The other represented responsibility.  She told me she wanted me to move responsibility off of me and onto my dad.

She tells me that I am not responsible for my dad leaving.  I am not unlovable because he denied my existence until the day he was murdered.  She tells me it’s not my fault I have bipolar.  She tells me it’s not my responsibility/fault chad left.  It’s not my fault I was raped.  It’s not my fault I was molested and it’s not my fault my mom beat me and abused me.  Even though she said it was.  Every day.  I would have to gauge her moods or I would pay the consequences.  When she beat me she said it was my fault.  When she couldn’t hug me it was my fault.  God.  Everything was my fault.  Everything equaled to me being unlovable.  Everything.  Everyone.

So. Here I am.  Truly and honestly sick to my stomach.  My head hurts.  Overwhelmed.  I don’t know how to except that the responsibility isn’t mine to carry.  That’s like telling me the grass is green when my whole life it was red.  I don’t know how to process the belief that I’m lovable.  All I’ve ever known is that it’s my fault or ‘responsibility’ as to why I’m not lovable.  Sometimes it was a silent message, but a deeply ingrained one.  Only firmed up by boyfriends, Jason’s emotional/mental/spiritual abuse, and ultimately Chad.  Chad.  The one man I trusted and believed.  Seriously.  The very first person ever.  He was my night in shining armor.  And then I was trash all over again.

So.  I wrestle.  I wrestle being thankful God is showing me all this.  Trying to believe He must love me to do so.  Struggling trying to grasp that all those beliefs are lies.  I truly feel ill by it all. Overwhelmed. And confused.  And so much damn grief.  I burn from pain to the depths of my core and i'm not sure what to do with any of it.

A Pig with lipstick

It’s just so unfair.

I realize that statement makes me sound like a petulant child, but it’s how I feel.  Life is unfair.  The world is unfair.  Most of life’s unfairness comes from our choices… but what about the things we don’t choose?

What about the people who have diabetes, cancer, a genetic disorder, or a mental illness.  We didn’t do a damn thing to cause this.  It’s just so unfair.

I try to dress my pig up in a pretty dress.  Paint it’s lips red.  Convince myself that this means I am just able to help others.  I’ll be able to show love and empathy to my children should they suffer.  I make a big deal out of my accomplishments… trying to encouragement myself with words like, “brave”, “honest”, “safe.”

But when the rubber meets the road; most days I can barely get out of bed.  The weight on my head feels like it’s suffocating me.  But.  I do it.  Every damn day.  I’m so tired.  So unbelievably exhausted.  All I want is for chad to love me again and come home.  He’s the first man I ever believed.  First man I ever trusted.  I was actually happy.  Helped.  My kids adored him and believed him too.  They talk about him all the time.  And now we are nothing.  Literally nothing.  He escaped my bipolar because it makes me trash.

But I can’t give up because my kids need me so I go back to being a pig dressed up with words like, “brave”.  Doing life.  Working full time.  Forcing myself to smile and forget all my pain.  I have moments I feel like I’m actually DOING IT… Then I have pieces of shit like Jason who love to make my life harder.  Kids who beg to not go to their home, going hungry, spanked 50 times, etc… but I am powerless.  I have a counselor for the kids who is amazing, but when it comes to confrontation about Jason’s horrible choices she goes silent so no one is telling him he’s wrong.  My own counselor listens and is proud of me, but I don’t feel any better.  I want to punch her when she says she’s proud of me.  Proud of what?!  That I’m alive when it’s fucking hard?  Okay.  I’ll give you that.  Proud of me that my house is clean?  I’ll give you that (mostly.)  Proud that my kids aren’t being beaten, making their own breakfast at 2 out of fear, or being beaten with a spoon until it breaks?  K.  I guess I can give you that too.  Or how about this.  Is she proud that neither of my kids are hiding underneath any bed they can find to protect themselves?  Guess I can give her that.  Or maybe that my kids aren’t being molested by male and female babysitters or ‘friends’?’ I guess I can give her that too.  Or maybe that my kids are told that they are loved, and hugged, every day of their life?!  I guess I can give her that too.  Cause that's not what happened to me.  I was rarely told I was loved.  Or touched.  in fact I was told I was a stupid bitch and my mouth would get me in trouble and I'd never be wanted.  Or maybe she’s proud because I put a face to all of this.  An ugly face, but an honest face. 

I’m tired you guys.  So exhausted.  My stress levels are so high that I’ve felt like I was having a heart attack twice last week.  It happened after Carol told lies that I killed my beloved healthy dog so her sister attacked me.  It happened when the school systems were failing so I had to fight for my son.  Jason and Nara certainly didn’t do that or thank me!  It happened when I missed paid work to handle ben’s school issue and to register all three kids.  It happened when I went to the fair and forgot an Ativan.  I was so terrified being on one of the rides that I put a smile on my face to make my kids happy, but tears ran down my face because I thought I might die.  I realized then that I am brave, but I have no peace.  Not one stroke of peace.

Where does my help come from?  It’s supposed to come from the Lord.

But I’m mad.  Really fucking mad.  How could He let me grow up in such horrendous abuse?  How could he make a little girl/woman who is unable to be loved when that’s all she’s ever craved?  How can he expect so much from one person?  Why do I have to suffer every single day?  Can’t I get a break?  I can’t even enjoy a Christian concert that I waited two months for.  Why would I want to seek a God who made me this way?

Again.  So fucking unfair.  I just want to sleep.  I want to rail.  I want answers.  I want help.  I want to be lovable.  I want chad to come home.  I want to do the right things. 

I just want a little bit of fun.  A little bit of joy.  A little bit of peace.  I want to see the big picture.

I want my life to be more than the sum part of my kids having it better than me.

They are worth it all, but can't my life have more purpose then that?