Heal Me...

...just thoughts

For so many years I lived for everyone but me. 

 

Children were to be seen and not heard...speaking only when spoken to.  I grew up with my best friend being whatever book I could find that I hadn't already read.  We lived in front of a huge avocado grove and I remember sitting under the trees reading my favorite book.  I don't remember the title now, but I remember it had a scratch and sniff sticker of a peach on it.  Whenever I needed comfort, I would open my book, scratch the sticker, and absorb the scent of peaches as I read.  It's no wonder that peaches are still my favorite scent.

 

My mother and her husband were deacons at a presbyterian church.  I didn't own my first pair of jeans until I was sixteen.  My mother left them on the table with a birthday card that read "I love you with the love of the Lord and that's all I can do."  I wasn't allowed to speak to my older siblings, and my younger sister and I were constantly vying for the attention of her father.  Blood always runs thicker than water.  That phrase was drilled into my head along with the phrase "if you're old enough to bleed, you're old enough to butcher".  Those jeans felt like my ticket out of town.  I'm not sure why now.  I wore them with a really baggy sweater (they were in style then) and I remember my mother's husband telling me that I was a w***e.  The jeans were baggy too. 

 

I don't think I wore make-up again for many years.

 

When she came home from work, I remember feeling this forboding sense of doom.  Nothing was ever good enough for her, but that didn't stop me from trying.  I wasn't allowed to speak to my older siblings when they would call me on the telephone.  I remember feeling that if I did enough good, then maybe I would get to talk to them "tomorrow".  Tomorrow never came...but I still kept on trying.  I tried until I couldn't try any more. 

 

I was eighteen when I got married the first time.  Everything I did was to make him happy.  Whatever happy was for him.  I gave up my faith and my only sense of worth which was my undying belief in God and started reading tarot cards and crystal balls.   He would put acid (album cover) in my tea before we would go to bed so that I wouldn't fall asleep so he could rape me all night long.  I remember feeling that if I just did better, I could go to sleep "tonight".  Tonight never came. 

 

I gave birth to my son when I was nineteen.  He became my everything.  I neglected everything in my life except for my son.  We did everything together and became so good and communicating with one another he didn't learn to talk until he was two.   My daughter was born when I was twenty-one and for a while the three of us were three peas in a pod.  For the first time in my life, my life had meaning.  It didn't matter how abusive my husband got or how awful his mother was to me, I had my children and together we could weather any storm.  My job was to live for my children. 

 

I had my first manic episode when I was 25.  I didn't know it back then.  I packed up my kids and we moved to san francisco with a girlfriend of mine.  Yeah.  Out of the blue, into the unknown.  I had to give them back to their dad.  I'll never forget the day I had to put them on a plane by themselves back to Phoenix.  I don't think my heart ever got over that one.  He promised to send them back to me when school started, but they never came.  I wound up moving back to Phoenix, into his mother's house again, while he lived with his girlfriend in an apartment.  I was devastated, but still did everything with my children in mind.  Even though my mind was literally fried. 

 

We survived.

 

The divorce became final and we went on with our lives...

 

A few years later, I became a wife.  Again.

 

I tried to get back to my roots in the church.  I wanted my children to grow up "right".  It worked for a while.  Until I questioned how "their God" could be so much different than "my God".  I questioned how a God that is so loving can get so angry at the people he loved so much to die for. 

 

No longer a Christian then, but a troubled mom, wife, daughter, sister...it went on and on.  Years went by, I was put on medications, and suffered at the hands of men that called themselves doctors.  I literally disappeared.  My children had gone to live with their dad, and my husband found his home in the bottom of a beer bottle.  I was left alone.  No children, no husband, no God....no me.

 

The next few years were just a blur.  I don't remember many things.  I was heavily medicated and severely damaged.  I don't remember my daughter's first bra, or my son's first volleyball game.  They were so excited when the first Harry Potter movie came out.  I remember taking them, but don't remember anything after that.  My son tells me that I fell asleep.  I think I must have slept for the next five years.

 

Things are better now.  Sort of.

 

My son is now in the Navy.  An Aviations Electronics Technician.  My daughter is getting married in 12 days.  My son lives across the United States and my daughter isn't talking to me, but I have one thing that I haven't had since I was a small child.  Value. 

 

I value myself, and believe in a God that is loving and nothing else.  I wish I could tell you how I got here.  Now?  I say NO all the time.  Sometimes I say HELL NO others I'll even say F**K NO.  I can say words like p***y and c**t ... generally not in the same sentence that I use hope and love...but inside this complex and fabulously scarred woman is all of that.   Men seem to love me while women seem to hate my guts. 

 

None of that matters though.

 

I love me.  No matter what anyone else in this world says or does, I know I'm valueable to this world.  Perhaps it was out of necessity ... to find one person who loves me for me.  ME.  Perhaps it is less complicated.  Maybe I love myself because I am meant to.  In a twisted sort of way, all things being equal, the s**t with the shine...my life was what it was so that I could get to a point of withstanding so much pain that I finally stopped caring about others thoughts of me.  I heard so much hatred from the outside seeping into me...that I somehow started loving from the inside out.  I don't know.

 

What I do know is this.  No one's opinion of me matters more than my opinion of myself.  Well, I always consider God's opinion of me, but I already know that one.  GOD LOVES ME SOOOOOOO MUCH...he made me.  No matter what any Christian tells you, God doesn't judge.  PERIOD.  So that one was a no brainer.  I had to find a love closer to home.  One that wouldn't let me down, or kick me when I needed a hand up, or yell at me for making a mistake.  I needed a more tangible type of unconditional love.  What I found was even more amazing...

 

When I stopped giving a s**t about what others wanted me to be, and started giving a s**t about what I wanted me to be...everything around me started to look brighter.  I still make mistakes.  Sometimes HUGE ones.  But my capacity to love those around me has grown exponentially.  Family, strangers, friends...

 

Healing hurts...but the pain goes away, and leaves behind it a rainbow more beautiful than anything in the world.

 

Reviews

[Ken Simm.]

You say fabulously scarred and complex woman. I would say the opposite. That you are so plural and multi layered is testament to not only your suvival skills but to your understanding and willingness to learn from the actions of yourself and others, positive or negative. This is being human. A drawing can be increased by the things we rub out was once told me by a very old and quite famous artist. This is true and as true of you as anyone. The people you allow to get to know you are without exception amazed at what they find. something wonderful happens. But remember people only know you through their own judgement not yours. This is true of everyone but the most caring and loving. The people who are most like you, willing to learn and not just accept.
This is technically brilliant but that is not important. We know you can write. What we don't know is just how strong and loving you are. You are quite correct even if it is a truism. You cannot love anyone or anything until you love yourself. Love is shaded to the ultimate degree but its base colours are primary and that is love for you, love for your family, (I know, who am I? Do what I say, not what I do.) and love for your love.

[Emily B]

We survive the darkness, always reaching for the light. All living things know hope instictively.I've slept through some years too. I can understand that. Here's to the wonderful, strong woman that is you. Maybe there always be an abundance of light.

[R J Askew]

You've certainly packed a lot more living in than I have. Your experience and emotional range are both much broader than mine. You have had a lot of grief on your journey, but the outstanding outcome is that it has made you strong and from that strength you have what seems to me at least a true optimism. You know yourself. I find the image of the avaacado grove particularly strong, though I have no idea what avacado trees look like, but I can still see you there with your book. The love of books, words and writing is a key part of your nature. A fine piece of writing.

[DarkIriswriter]

I love the writing I was so trying not to cry when I read this....:( It is such a inspiration to hear someone elses life story and be saved by God himself, now how cool is that.It is incredible how so much can be changed by the influence of looking after your own childern.No one can really understand love until they have childern it is one of the most precious things that are released into this world.It is not free that people judge others just by their past it is outrageous how even parents stoop so low to give their child low esteem to think of their self that way.God is the only one that could lead you where you need to go he will never,never leave you no matter what.take care and great writing.


sara

[The Rock And Roll Cowbo..]

Ahhh that that doesn't kill you makes you stronger and no doubt you are strong but kind... the key to knowing who you are is doing what you feel is right and being able to look in the mirror at night... stand tall my friend for I like who you are.

[Jet Lag]

I think I know what this is for, but maybe I don't. In any event, I am so proud of you for writing it. So many great lines, but the writing isn't what is to be "measured;" it's the message that counts.

Codependency is a sneaky cancer. .. How can the person who lives for others, putting them first, heal themselves of the condition? It feels so selfish. I know. I went through it. But being free of the addiction of pleasing others is where I --and you -- find our authentic selves.

Bravo!

[Dezaraye]

I am left without words. How can anyone critique something so personal and beautiful?

I want to be like you. You are someone I look up to and admire. I don't know if this was hard for you to write, but I know that for me it would have been, so I give you kudos for that.

[George Love]

An amazing and intimate story of childhood hell. The events of your past have steeled you into the person you are now. It is up to you to hone yourself into the person you want to become. You've had your zero hour, that moment when all things in your life come to a head and explode. Now reflect, meditate on that moment and shape yourself with the strength that got you through it. Excellent writing here. Kudos for sharing!

[Bruce Bray]

this is an amazing story..
to say the least..

only add those to your life, that ADD to your life..

obviously, in order to achieve balance, you have had to go from one extreme to the other. i believe in this philosophy whole-heartedly. so many of us can relate to the strict and unrelenting upbringing you speak. god mentioned in conditions of judgement and anger, and not in conditions of love and understanding. it never surprises me to hear one speak of such an upbringing. time and time again we are told by many of parents who somehow thought discipline had something to do with rules. and these rules were fostered by a religious mentality that never really understood the message of god at all.

it is certain that you carried guilt and shame into your first marriage. no fault of your own, just an aberration your parents instilled in you. their weapons of choice were aimed at you your entire childhood. having your children created such a safe haven for you even if it parts of it are blurred. you have that to cherish.

while you may have married a couple of husbands who took advantage of you and never saw the real you, the important part is the strength, experience, and hope. by moving to the outer reaches of yourself, you have transformed into the real you.

you were always there, you just had to find it.

i believe that humans should all share their pitfalls and their ability to come out of that hole with each other. it is the very thing that gives us all hope that a better day awaits. your story is important, and certainly can reach many.

you are a strong, creative, and giving individual. no one can ever take that away from you. i'm glad you posted this, with hope that others will read it and somehow manage to find a piece that relates to their own lives. in that way, you have contributed to mankind in a fashion that cannot be accomplished otherwise. your willingness and bravery to be vulnerable screams off of this page.

keep being you..
don't ever change..
you are important..

[W.k.kortas]

It is difficult to be right with others until you are all right with yourself. Tough, honest, gutty writing.

[Forest Green]

Through the hazards of life you've managed to keep your compass...it is a testimony to your spirit and determination.

Hopefully, smoother times are ahead and most surely your faith will keep you on track in spite of all the hurdles life puts in front of you.

Best wishes...nice, encouraging effort.

Daniel