Grief

Grief truly is this unexpressed love that no longer has an outlet. It's this flow of adoring energy that gets stopped up somewhere alongside that lump in your throat; you know, the one that triggers your tears.

But I must be stronger than that. 

Pushes the tears away.

But I can't let them see me cry right now. 

Swallows back the sobs.

It wasn't a choice I was in control over. 

Smiles softly to those at my side.

Stopped up love is grief. Stopped up grief is a killer.

Finally

finally a diagnosis for this 6 months of extreme physical pain my body has been in. Finally an answer that is neither scary or crippling - a tad overwhelming but that is all.

I can do overwhelming.  I can do one day at a time, especially when I have been told it should be completely gone in 2 years.

Finally a medication that helped relieve the pain.  One day in, on a super high dose before tapering off,  and I am already noticing a huge diffrrence. I was able to dress and prepare for the day without debilitating pain. I even sat on the wooden benches to watch my step-son's game and could get up without walking like a 102 year old woman.

Finally,  after 6 months of scattered sleep from all this pain, I slept through the night, waking only momentarily at 1:56 am. I was distraught thinking "here we go again", but a guided meditation video and relaxation breathing exercises lulled me right back into a sweet slumber.

Another "finally" and a bizarre one at that, after a year long silent treatment from my husband's ex, She Who Shant Be Named, communicated with me 2 days in a row. I damn near fell over from the shock of it all. Don't get me wrong, I'm prepared for one of 2 things: 

A. a blow up like last year where she tries to hurt my feelings telling me to go to hell. She clearly has no idea how exciting that would be. I've longed to go to Norway for as long as I could breath.

B. This was an isolated weekend, or she took her medication or the Christmas Spirit moved her and...the Silent Treatment will resume.

Not too sure if she realizes that as much as I wish the two of us could get along and be, at least, friendly with each other for the kids, her silence doesn't bother me. In actuality,  it is a necessity for peace of mind - at least until she learns to control her tongue, her temper, her jealousy and her idiotic notions that she is a victim in a circus she created. 

so fucking tired

I'm so fucking tired of Princess S.M. and her shit don't stink attitude. She is an abuser and has continued to do so for almost  6 years. 

There's no end in sight to this. None.  I'm lost and hopeless. 

Deplorable lunacy

The discussion began with her demanding the kids on Halloween.  She was told she could get 1.5 hours. He was told she intended to kidnap the kids from school - regardless of his wishes or desire or instruction for his week of access.

She dropped the children off on their usual schedule and one child came with a costume.  No other discussion had been had or settled  regarding Halloween. We had already bought costumes for our house.

We decided to have them home and ready to go for 6, presuming she was going to come. One had no costume sent over so she was sent with no costume. She did come.

We were accused of being deplorable,  of lunacy and of damaging children. She brought them home late because she does whatever the fuck she wants anyway.

Two faces   One for the people she tries to fool. One for us. It exudes emotional abuses each time it looks our way.  She tries to break us, not only emotionally but relationally.  She tries to ruin moments so the kids only have memories of things not going well, or upset and confusion.

I wish she would move on, find her happiness so she can stop trying to ruin ours. Jealousy is an ugly accessory she has chosen to wear.

Ironically,  her attempts are met with our laughter. Pumpkin, move on, let go and sort through your shit. 

Another failure

I'm angry at myself for being afraid... afraid to swim afraid to learn...afraid.
I miss out on so much fun.
My husband, with the kids,  in the deep end and diving  off the board.
There I sit, in a corner, of the shallow end...a loser...inept.
They are in the lake, far beyond my comfort zone, and I turn back, wrap my towel around myself,  bury my toes in the sand and try to forbid that hot tear from escaping.

Not so blended

When one ingredient doesn't want to blend.... you know, like when you are making gravy and add the cornstarch or flour without making it into a rue first.... and then you wind up with lumpy gravy that doesn't appeal to anyone.

One of the children in our blended family has absolutely nothing to do their step parent's family.  The only time this child gets involved is when materialistic fun comes into play. There is so much selfishness and zero acceptance or participation... As parent and step parent,  this is heartbreaking to watch and to be subjected to.  It is difficult to bear witness to the blatant disregard of our family unit...especially knowing how this child is ignored from the other side of their family when they are there.

My role

My role has changed

to chauffeur and bank roll.

to silent but supportive yet inconsequential

I will never claw my way out from under her fucking shadow  and I must accept that or move on.

here we go again

I have dealt with one child not wanting me in their life and that lasted awhile, as I have written about here, but my middle child, the one who was abused, the one who has chosen to be a boy, the one one who has suffered with mental health issues and extreme anxiety and depression, has now expelled me from their life. I would love to say "for now" but I just can't say for certain.

The grief is similar to that of mourning the death of a loved one.  My heart is shattered. I am wrecked.  I can't recover from this....it will change me.

I can only hope that one day comes where I am welcomed back. Until then, I need to learn how to make the best of this new normal....

Under Shadows

How do I live under your shadow?
How do I continue to thrive?
How do I have limits and boundaries?
How can I even survive?

Your shadow haunts my fucking hallways,
A place where you have never been.
Every wilderness trail, shop, corner store...
This is getting damn well obscene.

I'm tired of the measuring stick at my door step.
So sick of everyone's  need to compare.
Such bullshit nothing can just be ours.
My heart hurts from my despair.

Your presence invades my space daily;
I wish you'd please just give us space.
Does he even see me
Or does he still just see your face?

Choose beauty

I try to see the beauty of every day. There has to be at least one beautiful thing every day, right? That gorgeous sunrise or sunset that paints the sky. The hoar frost that blankets the trees. The sundog that wraps itself around the sun. The gleam in your love's eyes. The sound of a child's laughter rippling through the mundane....

But, honestly, there are days that shit doesn't cut it....somedays where it takes an awful lot to see beyond the bad - let alone the beautiful.

83 and I have a situation in our lives that likes to raise the ooglay bar more often than not, intentionally trying to zap each and every ounce of beauty in our lives. A parasitic situation that latches on with lockjaw strength. There were times we let the situation steal our joy...however, it never successfully tore us apart.

Lately, we have chosen to simply laugh at the idiocy of it all. Honestly,  the shit that happens (and how laced it is with lunacy and illogicality  and paranoia) is, from an outside perspective,  hilarious at best.

We couldn't make the nonsense up if we tried... With great certainty,  I'd bet money that the genius imaginations of the likes of J.R.R Tolkein and George Lucas could not fathom the mania nor how the bottom can fall right out of it and how quickly that can happen.

And so, we both struggled to find the beauty in those days. There is no beauty in irrational behavior, narcasstic patterns or entitled mindsets. So how did we decide to not allow it to zap our joy, peace and sanctuary?

We simply accepted that we are not responsible for the behavior or choices or even perceptions of anyone other than ourselves. If our motives are questioned and misinterpreted by ignorance, let it be so. If our behaviours threaten the insecurities of the unhinged, let it be so.

There is beauty in the knowledge that you are in control of the peace, joy and well-being in only the space you make up. Our responsibility is to keep our souls peaceful and protected, and to protect our home environment.  Within the confines of our house is a space that welcomes friends and family, a space that is calming, restful and welcoming - filled with love and laughter.

In that space, we choose to find our beauty. Together, we strive to make it such by being watchful of the attitudes that walk through our doorway. Malicious, unapologetic,  ill-willed people are lucky to make it to the step let alone gain access (although one such person likes to find ways to utilize naivety and youthful innocence to barge their way where they are not welcome when we are not home).

The long and the short of it is this, we have made a conscious decision to not allow others to rob our joy, to smell the flowers, to breath in the fresh air, to allow the mud to squish between our toes and to enjoy the beauty in the every day on this journey we walk together.

Is it always easy? Fuck, no. Sometime we need to be reminded what our priorities are for our lives. How awesome it is to be part of a relationship where it is rare for both people to be down at the same time; gentle reminders from the other encourage and strengthen. At times those gentle reminders sound more like "stop feeling sorry for yourself" or 'stop pouting". Haha.

When you get down to the nitty gritty  there really is beauty in every day....it just depends if we decide to feed the ugly or feed the beauty. I would rather feed the beauty.

Who am I?

Who am I?

Something I have been rediscovering the last 6 years.

I spent almost 2 decades being told what music I could (or could not) listen to (in fact, I was made to burn all my music), what food I liked, what clothes I was to wear, how I was to respond to people, who I could or could not spend time with, and what my demeanor would be....just to name a few...

6 years ago, I found myself looking at my reflection in the mirror and having absolutely no idea who I was.

I reflected...a lot. I went back to what I enjoyed as a kid. It had to be a good starting point. As a child, I spent every minute I possibly could outside - with the animals in the pasture, exploring the woods and the creeks and watching the beavers build their dams, getting on my horse after breakfast and wandering through the woods until supper, climbing in the round bales, making forts and tunnels in the bales (much to the dismay of my parents and grandparents), nestling in the straw piles beside the calves, berry picking, trying to stalk deer to capture pictures of them or any other wildlife, making boats out of scrap wood and sailing them down the run off, listening to the wolves howling and lulling me to sleep....you get the idea.

I adored that time, found it peaceful and rejuvenating.

Back to nature I went and rediscovered the love I have always had for the magic of the outdoors.

I went back to the music that had become my anthems as a teenager.  I found myself on a path that empowered me once again and I evolved from there.

My art.... I discovered painting. I just can't seem to draw as I once had. I wrote and wrote. It helped me process - just as it always had. The writing of words is cathartic and healing for me. Now, I just need to tap open that valve in my soul from whence poetry flowed...

Surround me with nature in my home: driftwood, rocks, gemstones, shells, sand, the warming glow of candles, the welcoming greenery....

I discovered yoga and the healing power of what I call "zen music".
I'm back to taking pictures of pinecones and moss, clouds and lightning, wildlife and flowers....

I've rediscovered (and am still discovering day by day) who I am. I'm a beautiful mix of heavy metal and yoga, happiest outdoors (be it in the middle of a forest or beside crashing waves near the ocean), capturing life through my camera, berry picking, canning, baking, extroverted introvert homebody

From the ashes

Wow....
It sure has been a lifetime since I darkened this doorway....

I don't know if any of my readers are still around. If you are...hey! If I am wandering the halls of this blog alone, that's ok. I do this mostly to sort through and process. Writing has always been my favored means of communicating. I love formulating thoughts and telling stories. It truly is cathartic.

Almost 6 years ago my life derailed - at least the life I thought I had to live. There were casualties and freedoms, moments that gutted me and moments that rocked me to my core - forever changing who I am.

I wish I had had the capability to journey through that with you all but, to be honest, I still don't have the words or ability to understand a great deal of it.

May I present to you the cliffnotes version of the last 6 years....

1.  B.D. and I parted ways....he was cheating on me with at least 2, known to me, women. There was, which I now am brave enough to say, years of domestic and sexual abuse that was a well-kept secret because image...

and also because FEAR.

There are too many things to catch up on that  now is not the time to delve deeper into this issue and the growth I have experienced through my healing.

2. Less than a year into taking my first steps into freedom,  safety and rebuilding,  my world shattered when I received news that my dearest friend lost her son in a motorcycle accident.  If you have read here previously, you may remember that we met as brand new teen moms in our hospital beds as we held our newborn babies and we have been through the best and worst if humanity together....and now, the unthinkable.

I can't go a day without him taking a stroll through my mind, my memories or my heart.

3. I took a little trip. Where did I go? I went to heal my soul in the rain forest. (I still have a long road ahead of me but this trip was the most therapeutic thing I could have done for myself.) I went to Panama. 
There is something purely magical and healing that happens when you stand in the middle of the rain forest (surrounded by sloths, capuchin monkeys, exotic birds and, apparently,  a jaguar) and the moment you offer your broken pieces to the universe for repair is a truly humbling one.

4.  My daughter divulged to me secrets she carried regarding her father and his behavior that no one, let alone a child,  should have to bear the burden. She pressed charges but the courts let her down. It changed my poor Jellybean in ways I cannot properly understand and I have lost every hope and dream I once held dear for my child. However,  I am most grateful that I am still able to wrap my arms around my baby and tell this precious soul how much they are loved.

5. Jellybean, now 18 years old, lives with roommates and has for the last almost 3 years. Plans for graduation are hopeful for this year although Jellybean is attempting to complete a year and a half in one year. if it takes longer, it takes longer.  Every step forward is a step forward.
Bug, almost 16  years old, has his learners driving permit and lives with me full-time.

6. Bug reminds me a lot of myself as a teenager - in boy form.

7. After years of oppression and abuse, and being placed in a constant state of survival mode,  I began to rediscover who I am.

Who I truly am was long lost in the identity and ideals I had to take on to appease violence and anger in my home.

I found me again. Well, honestly, I'm still working on this and still learning more daily  It has been an adventure -  a journey full of ebbs and flows, triumphs and set-backs, victories and disappointments.

Sometimes certain behaviors of people send me reeling into a state of instant panic, instant fear and I find I have healed just enough that I stand up for myself and my family but not quite healed enough to stand up against those moments in the most effective manner. I cower or I bare my teeth.  Fight or flight. According to the counselor I saw, to help me through the healing process, the fight or flight response is on alert 150% of the time for survivors of violence and for those with PTSD as a result of that violence.

8. I met and married an incredible, kind and gentle man. We will have been married coming on 2 years this summer. With him, I gained 3 fabulous little characters into my family.  (Names for the 4  will need to be explored)

9. We rescued a dog....or she rescued us....but we have each other. July 30 of this year marks our 1 anniversary of Gotcha Day. She will be known by Creep within the walls of this space.

and the most joyful of my updates....

10. Rush married her high school sweetheart, 4x4, 5 years ago this June AND.....coming up on 15 months ago, they welcomed their firstborn, a handsome little man (he needs an interweb name as well....)

So, there you have it, the last 6 years in a nutshell....I saved the positives for the end because I believe in ending anything that is negatively toned with positivity.