You bought me flowers today.

You bought me flowers today.
You shower me with compliments.
You ask if I want to play a board game.
You send me lovey dovey texts.
You want to spend time with me.
Hover like a helicopter.
You profess your love and devotion.....................


                                                         All this and more after:


YEARS OF ABUSE.
AVOIDING.
IGNORING.
BELITTLING.
MAKING ME FEEL SMALL.
MAKING ME FEEL INVISIBLE.
MAKING ME A NERVOUS WRECK.
CONTROLLING.
COLD.
ISOLATING.
EGGSHELLS.
DESTRUCTIVE BEHAVIOR. 
BREAKING MY SPIRIT.
BREAKING ME DOWN.
BREAKING MY HEART.
                                          BUT!..............................
BROKEN OPEN.
                  TO LET THE LIGHT IN.
                                                          I WIN. 

Stupid Girl.

One of my favorite movies is 'Shawshank Redemption. There is a scene in the movie where one of the characters, 'Ottis 'Red' Redding', is up for parole after serving 40 years in prison for a crime he committed as a young kid. When asked if he felt he was 'rehabilitated', this was his response:

Redding: There's not a day goes by I don't feel regret. Not because I'm in here, or because you think I should. I look back on the way I was then, a young, stupid kid who committed that terrible crime. I wanna talk to him. I wanna try to talk some sense to him -- tell him the way things are. But I can't. That kid's long gone and this old man is all that's left. I gotta live with that.

I was reading my best friends blog this morning, 'Insufficient Mums', and her latest post titled 'Scrot Mother', had me thinking about my life, and choices. Had me thinking about how I got to where I am now, and had me dreadfully wishing I could go back. Go back to when I was a young, stupid girl. Like Redding, I want to go back. I look back on the way 'I' was then, a young, stupid kid who made poor choices. I wanna talk to her. I wanna try to talk some sense to her too - - tell her the way things are. But I can't. That girl's long gone and this old woman is all that's left. I gotta live with that.

I want to go back. I want to tell that girl that was sitting on her boyfriends back porch, crying, when she realized it was over, that she would be okay. That it wasn't the end of the world. That I didn't realize that my self worth, which I was so lacking, didn't come from him, but from within. I want to tell her to not give up my dreams and aspirations for anyone. That any man that loved me, REALLY LOVED ME, would support, and encourage me in my dreams. That I should listen to my mom, and grandfather, and go to school to pursue my dream to be a nurse. Or singer. Or 'Cruise Director', like Julie McCoy, on 'The Love Boat'. (glad I didn't choose that one...I get extremely sea sick!) I was full of 'Wanderlust'. I had so many dreams. Dreams I gave up. I allowed men to squelch. With their insecurities. With their 'NO'. I allowed my rose tinted glasses to be removed, not by me when I was ready. No. They were blown off my face. I have to live with that, too.

I wanna go back. I wanna go back to my home in Maplewood. To a simple time. To my room. My little world. Feel that again. Feel that energetic, fun-loving, out-going, risk-taking, sometimes reckless, young girl again. Dancing at family gatherings in my white 'go-go' boots, young girl. Fearless, and fanci-free..... My grandfather made home movies, capturing those moments. I can't watch them. Not now. They rip my heart into shreds. I am happy they exist. So that I know my memories are true. That they aren't some made-up fantasy, I conjured up. They are real. But they make me sad.

I want to get up off that back porch stoop, get in my car, drive to the college, and sign up. I want to be the woman that pursued her dream. Has self worth. Be the woman I would want my daughters to emulate. A good role model for them. Instead, I went out. Hungry. Craving to feel full again. Whole again. I thought I did. With the first man I met, an alcoholic (surprise, surprise) at a bar, getting in with a fake ID I had been given by my neighbor. That I married. I was pregnant. I realized too late that it was wrong. I want to listen again to my mother, who told me I didn't have to go through with it. She'd come, pack up my stuff and take me home. I didn't listen. I wanted for it to work so badly. It didn't. I managed to leave. With two young daughters. They were my life. I did not want them to live the life I had. I wanted to show them what a strong woman looked like. 

Life was so messy. I put myself through Cosmetology school, while working nights as a bartender. A part of me became a bit of a rebel. Newly divorced, from a controlling, alcoholic. I was free. But, it was harder than I thought. Problems didn't magically go away once I divorced. They magnified. I just couldn't seem to get out from under the black cloud that seemed to follow me. One of my daughters began to exhibit behavioral issues. Everything was a battle. I lost my best friend. The blow was devastating. It took me a very long time to recover from that. The rejection was gut wrenching. The only escape I had was working at the bar. I was receiving attention from so many men. That made me feel worthy. Beautiful. Wanted. Adored. Lusted. But still empty. No amount of men, or sex, or alcohol, could fill me up. 

I married again. A man I met while working at the bar. Any surprises here? See the pattern? Ya know, I knew. That 'still small voice' deep inside knew it was wrong. I have a bad habit of ignoring that gut feeling. That is what I wish I could go back and tell the young me. "Listen. Dammit!! Listen! Listen to that 'voice'. It knows. It really does. You can trust it. Please, Kimmy, I implore you, trust that. You can. Really." 

 My second marriage was the one that put me in my grave, and nailed the coffin shut. Kimmy was gone. I walked around, pretending I was happy. Any sense of self-worth I had remaining, the little I had mustered up, was gone. My mom knew it was wrong. Again, she tried. Again, I didn't listen. This marriage is a blog in and of itself, that I won't go into now. It has had more challenges than most marriages experience in a lifetime. I won't take that away from it. The loss of a son. A disabled daughter. The daily uncertainties. The struggles with my other daughters. The financial struggles. The medical costs. The slow, drifting apart. The shear loneliness. The destructive behaviors. It isn't a 'Lifetime' movie, with a happy ending.

Now, I am just a broken, old woman. Tired. Beaten up. Broken body from three back surgeries. The daily pain. The struggle to care for a growing, disabled daughter. With this broken body. Trying to rebuild. Again. Trying to spare my daughters the same mistakes. Praying they learn by my mistakes. Hoping they have it in them to not want the same fate as me, and to fight not to. To rage against anyone who would try to stop them. Not wanting them to be sitting in a bed, typing a blog about wishing they could go back. Oh, how I want better for them. I've seen glimmers of similarities, and it scares the shit out of me. All I can do it try. Try the same way my mom tried. With any luck, things will be different for them. They will have the self-worth I didn't. The self-worth I am working to have, for the first time. 

It hasn't been easy, and I find myself tripping, and falling. I still seem to make poor choices at times. But, they are fewer. A lifetime of habits, and behaviors doesn't change overnight. I try to surround myself with strong women, women that have no problem telling me when they see me heading for a disaster. Year, and years of counseling have been invaluable. Sometimes I wish there was a large, blinking light above oncoming disasters, DANGER! WARNING WILL ROGERS! 

I also try to remember, as C.S Lewis said, "Never too old to set another goal, or dream another dream." I will. I have to. I must. No option. No quitting. Today is a new day, and to remember,
'hope is a good thing, maybe the best of things, and no good thing ever dies.'

Come on 2014! You can do better than that!

Last year was not a particularly great year. I had really placed a lot of faith, and hope that 2014 would be a better year. Fresh start. Good things ahead. So far, it isn't working out as I hoped it would. For starters, 2014 started off on the wrong foot. My mom's bestest friend in the world, a second mom to me, passed away. Her daughter, passed away at the age of 49 a week prior. The surviving sisters father-in-law passed away a shortly after. A friends husband hung himself. Another co-workers husband jumped in front of a train. My son in law lost his job, my daughter's hours were cut back at work, my other daughter has had her share of troubles, a family members home was broken into, and robbed of sentimental objects, as well as other items, another family member was in a restaurant while an armed robbery took place, my neighbor lost his job, my dear friends child underwent a long surgery to place growth rods, only to find out that one of the rods had broke, rendering the child in excruciating pain, that she is unable to express because she is a non-verbal, disabled child. Another friends child has been being bullied at school. I was in a car accident that has left me in a state of anxiety, I finally got my car back, only to slide in the snow, hit a curb, and ruin a tire, and rim, having to take the car back, only adding to my anxiety. Roxanne was doing very well initially after her spine surgery, but seems to have taken a step back. We will be going for an MRI in the upcoming months. I know I am forgetting something, but I think I have made my point. It's too much. Even if the people I spoke of don't affect my life directly, or on a daily basis, I feel the pain of the people that they do.
A part of me wants to crawl into a hole, and not come out. It just feels overwhelming. I try to keep my perspective, and remember the good things that have happened, or are happening. It is not as easy as it once was. I guess I am just getting older. But, today is a new day. I will only do what I can today, in this moment. I can't go back. I can't be in tomorrow. I can only be in today. It may not turn out the way I set out for it to be, but I am still here. So, I guess if I am still here, I have a purpose. What that is, I am not exactly sure, but I will continue to do my best, continue to forge forward, continue to try to ease the pain of others, to be the best mommy, daughter, sister, & friend.....even if I have to fake it to make it.

Train Wreck

I know how it feels to keep screwing up, and not being able to stop.
I wish I could go away for a while and allow time to go to work and start healing.
I'm in the middle of mud, and I am struggling to gain control; but the mud has the best of me, and my attempts are futile. I'm exhausted.
My life is a big drama with no intermissions. Sometimes, I wish for the curtain call.
Chaos...Frustration...Anger...Sadness.
I yell, scream, cry. Sometimes I want to hide.
That is all anyone knows of me anymore. Pathetic.
It is what I am known for. It is what people count on. ~Nuts~
I want to shut up and be still for so long that when I do finally speak, I will be strong, calm, and reposed. ~Placid~
No defending. No mending.
Peoples words would bounce off me, and drop to the floor. ~Bang!~
No more 'gettin my goat'. When they can't get a rise from me, what a boring subject I will be.
No more caring about others opinions, no more allowing someone to dictate my peace.
I won't allow myself to explain, explain, explain....
I'm tired of talking. It gives me a headache!
Oh! How they will think I've finally snapped! But, that is okay.
At least I won't be yelling.
Blah! Blah! Blah! There is something to be said for silence.
Observe, be still, keep them guessing. Quiet, sshhh!
Get busy being quiet.
Get busy getting it together.
Get busy getting a life.

Authentic Me...Now you're free

Authentic me I tried to drown,

I fought, fought, and held her down.

Tough was she, she wouldn't go, 

but for a time she did pass out,

while the impersonator went about

living a life that wasn't me.

But, then authentic me awoke,

dazed, confused, still feeling choked.

In a life where she feels trapped.

Sad to know she can't go back.

Alert, awake, coming to,

she is wondering what to do.

Where does she go from here, 

In a life that is filled with tears.

Now awake, she can no longer fake

who she truly is.

It's me! It's me! I've been set free!

She will not go, she is here to stay.

Will learn to face another day.

She fought. She won. 

She will carry on....

Authentic me, now you're free.

Thanks for the concern, but....

Oh, the well meaning people. I don't blame them. I don't get mad at them. I understand they are only trying to help.

I know I should eat better. I know that exercising would be GREAT for my body. I know I should eat whole foods. Organic foods. Take supplements. I know there are all kinds of 'natural' anti-inflammatory foods, supplements, etc. I know. I know. I know! Did I mention, I know!? 

What these very well intentioned people forget, rather, what they can not possibly comprehend, is the lifestyle I live having an Autistic & Epileptic child. 

The sleepless nights. The endless days. Just check some of my Facebook posts. They are usually three, four in the morning, or earlier, when most of the people I know are still sleeping. Peacefully. Comfortably. With their spouse. Or lover. Or comfortably alone. 

I don't have the luxury of taking time in the morning to have a 'routine' for myself. To take time to 'heat' my back, and stretch out my sore, aching muscles. Then take time for yoga, or meditation. I have most likely been up most of the night. Like last night. And the night before. And the night before that. Roxy doesn't understand that I have had three back surgeries. She doesn't understand I have tears in my shoulder. Or a herniation in my neck that sends shooting pains. She doesn't understand the strain that changing her 65lb. body puts on my already over-worked, stressed, injured body.

Roxanne doesn't understand that I stay up with her when her brain won't shut off, and I am completely exhausted. When the affects of the numerous medications fuck with her  little head. I am her source of comfort. Her 'woobie'. Her 'blankie'. I am her source of food, and life. I am her port. Her safe place. At the expense of my own body, time, energy, peace, relationships, marriage, friendships, and soul. I give it all to her. I do it to the best of my ability. Then manage to save the minute amount of energy I can muster to the remaining family members and friends, that I love, love, love!  I need them. Like air. They keep my life normal.

So, I grab the quickest thing I can find to eat. I grab my pain meds to help me get through the day with some degree of quality. So I can function, and work through the pain that has engulfed my body. "Intractible Pain", the doctor calls it. Some may find that weak. I don't care anymore. It works for me. Fast. I walk a couple times a week. And push myself to do it. I would love to grab my cookbooks that have collected dust, and make an amazing meal. I would love to take much needed time for myself and do something selfish. Like sleep. But, I am too busy changing diapers on a pre-teen. Feeding her. Bathing her. Trying to entertain her, because she does not have the skills to entertain herself. She doesn't have friends. Or play house. Or board games. Or go outside. She doesn't have sleep overs with girlfriends. She doesn't go to glass blowing birthday parties. Nope. None of that. I am grateful she still watches Blues Clues. Woe is the day she looses interest in Steve or Joe! 

I know I should take better care of myself. But please don't keep telling me. I know. Wanna help me? Really? Make me a meal. Come to my house and take Roxy for a walk in her stroller. Take your vacation time to sleep at my house, in the bed with Roxy. You stay up all night with her so I can sleep. My husband has to sleep by the way. He has to work. Or we lose the little we have left. Don't tell me that I should look into services that are available to us. Did that. There aren't. Not ones that apply to us. Don't you think I would have utilized everything, and anything that is out there? But no, I won't send her away, so don't tell me to do that either. 

I really do appreciate all the concern. I know I am loved, and that is a great feeling. But, I am smart. I know what would be good for me. So, thanks. Really. I will end my rant now. Duty calls. Literally.

 

A stranger among me.

There is no worse feeling than to have your heart and head in conflict. When you feel like you are in 'Limbo Land'. And yet, this is exactly where I am residing right now. "Limbo land."

On one hand, it is okay. I am floating along. Drifting with the current. I had to let go for now. Let go of trying to figure things out. Let go of wondering if, where, and how...

It has been said that you 'Get used to hanging if you hang long enough'. It's true. If you live with crazy long enough, you get used to chaos. I am used to chaos... Calm is a foreign state of being for me. I am always in a 'defense stance'. Waiting, and expecting the floor to drop out from under me at any given moment. It is exhausting, and I am exhausted. I once said that, 'I cried so much that I emptied myself' - that 'I felt like I had space in my heart again.' But now, I feel like my heart is just being held together with duck tape. I am a walking wounded...

I don't know if a person can change so dramatically over night. Yet, that is what seems to have happened. Can a person go from one side of the pendulum all the way to the other side over night? Swing from one extreme to the other?  I don't believe anyone can live on one side of the pendulum or the other for any extended period of time. Eventually, we all settle somewhere in the middle. The part of us that feels the most 'natural'....I don't know what the 'natural' is for him, and more importantly, I don't believe HE knows what the middle is for him. I still look at him as a stranger. I have even asked him, "Who are you, and what have you done with .....?' I wonder to myself sometimes if he really isn't him at all, but a clone of him, put in place while aliens have the real him! Silly, isn't it?! Like the body snatchers. Then, once they are finished with him, they will replace him, and I will have the old him back. The one that has caused such turmoil, sadness, loneliness, fear, anger, alienation...

I try not to be skeptical.  But I can only work with what I know. If the best predictor of future behavior is past behavior, then I don't have much to work with. He doesn't exactly have the best track record. He seemed very natural, and comfortable in his misery. Which is why I am so pensive. Can a heart with so many stress fractures ever be mended? Will I ever be able to trust again?

I admit, having peace is nice for now. It isn't me this time, trying to have peace at any price. It is the change in him, allowing peace to take place. I find that for the first time in many years, I am able to let my guard down a bit. I don't have the same sense of dread and angst. I am not in survival mode. As a result, I sleep. My body telling me that it has reached its max. My brain telling me that it is saturated, and can not absorb anymore. My soul saying let go. I need the rest. A time to restore and replenish...For who knows what the future holds? This may be a temporary reprieve. The calm before the storm...

Only time can heal this Neglected, Broken heart. This Battered, and Abused soul. Only time will tell if the change is authentic. Only time will reveal what is meant to be. 

Only time will tell...