A Daughters Story – The Opening

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Thirty some odd years ago, a sixteen year old child gave birth to a daughter. This is her daughters story.

I was born into a world of drunkenness, which brought abuse, and very little nurturing. As far back as I can remember, things were just always bad. I always believed that my mother and father hated one another more than loved. There is not  one memory in my mind where they were nice to each other. To this day I still wonder why they stayed husband and wife as many  years as they did. It is not like they were together for those twenty years. Maybe it was just to cause me torture.

From the time I was in first grade I switched schools nine times. Any idea how hard it is to find friends, little on keep them when you move so often? Especially when you are considered low class. My parents would separate because of a drunken rage from my dad, and mother would move out, start over, and within a few months they would reunite. Dad would always end up moving to what ever location my mother had chosen.

A taste of my younger days.

Age 6/7. I am not sure what reason I was allowed to walk to school at such a young age, but I do remember having to do so. We lived in Chattanooga Tennessee during the beginning of my second grade year. I remember having that uneasy feeling the first few times I done it. Seriously, who allows their small child to walk to school. It was only a block, but Never would I allow that to take place. Not in that area. The point of my story was not even the fact that I had to make sure I got myself to school. I remember having a terrible morning on one of those walks. The bottom of my shoe had fallen completely off. The only thing I had to walk on was the insole of the shoe that was still attached to the inside. Kids can be cruel at such a young age, or any age for that matter. My misfortune that day was used for their amusement . All the laughs and teasing, really broke my spirit. It took me a very long time to get over that. I was finally released from that specific humiliation when we moved. A lot of times, moving was welcomed, because of situations such as this, Though It seemed every school had those kids that would snub their nose at my second hand cloths, or ratty hair.

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By the middle of my second grade year, we had moved about an hour away from Chattanooga. We went from living in the city, to the back woods of some po-dunk town that did not even have a traffic light, known as Ider. I was not at this school very long until I had some how managed to develop head lice. So for the rest of the year, I was shunned by my fellow class mates for this added misfortune.

I began my third grade year in different school. This was not like the last move, a combined family move. This involved a separation. Mom left dad and moved to Fort Payne. This was a town/city. A lot smaller than Chattanooga, yet tons bigger than Ider. I stayed at this school, from the beginning of Third, until the middle of Fifth, and I failed fourth grade, so we are looking at, at least three years at this residence. Probably the longest that I ever stayed at any school or residence. This was because my mother was living in what is called a HUD home or Governmental housing . Her rent was income based. She had no income, therefore it was near nothing. Dad eventually moved back in with us, but when they would separate during these years he would be the one to leave, because she refused to give up her cheap housing. This was the age of when I was molested by a family member. I will have to save that incident, and the details for another day.

Half of fifth grade,  and all of sixth grade, we were back in Ider. Once again, I was in contact with someone with head-lice. Word got out, therefore, I was a dirt bag for the rest of the time being at this school. Seventh and Eight I attended another small town school, Sylvania. Up until this point, I would have to say it was the least terrible. Especially as far as people were concerned. There may have been a person here and there that was mean, and nasty, but they were few and far between.

Ninth and Tenth was by far the easiest for me. Collinsville School.  I think I had gotten to the age of not caring as much what people thought about me. I find when we are not so concerned about what others think, we will also gain more determination to make the best out of whatever circumstance we find ourselves in. Along with that determination, confidence is gained. I had so many friends, in three different grades. For once I was enjoying school, not necessarily the academic part of it, but definitely the social part. I had even tried out for a few extra curricular activities. Basket ball the first time. I was so pumped about it. My parents even agreed to it. As long as I could get to and from games and practices without them being involved. I made sure that would not be an issue. During the first practice,  I was told that my birth certificate was not an original, and without the original I could not practice. It was too much to ask of my mother to go to the health department and obtain another birth certificate,therefore I missed out on the opportunity. In my tenth grade year I had joined color guard. Ordered uniforms, had been going to weekly practices. Out of the blue, I was accused of doing something with my mothers live in boyfriends,underwear. There was also a ring that had come up missing as well. From my understanding the ring had later surfaced in a jacket pocket, but the underwear…Yep, still missing. Just my personal thought would be, mother did not want the hassle of children, or the more than likely the boyfriend. They wanted to spend their time, alone.

My father allowed me to quit school. He did not just allow, he pushed me to it. For a few weeks I decided that I would in fact quit school, but that is all of the vacation I needed, before I decided to return. By this time, it was several weeks into my Eleventh grade year, and I had landed back in Sylvania. Before the second semester was over, I had quit again. This time it was due to the fact, that my dad had rather stay drunk instead of worry with my education. He can not read nor write, so I suppose he felt I was educated enough. Every Monday he had a hang over. So I was always missing those days. There would be a day between that and Friday that I would miss again. We lived out of the area for the school that my dad insisted I attend. He would drive to his work in the mornings and that is where I would get on and off the bus. Since he would not go to work on a daily basis, I could not go to school on a daily basis. I finally just quit again. I had no choice. School was hard enough on me without all of that added stress.

I know I can not blame my parents for every little wrong choice I have made myself in this life. Though I can in fact, and do blame them for not teaching me some very vital things. One of those things being respect. I was never taught to respect myself. That was something that I had to teach myself, and it took many many years to do so, and with a lot of failed attempts. I was never taught morals. I had to learn those from my friends parents along the way. I was never nurtured, loved on, or lifted up. But those things I hold tight to now, as being a blessing. It has shown me the damage it can do to a child’s heart when these things are not offered. I refuse to ever leave my children wondering what they mean to me. I will never say things to bring them down. I will always pressure them to leave their positive mark on the world. I will teach them that the children that seem to live in poverty are just the same as they are. Their parents may be down on their luck, or their parents may just not care. Either way it is not the fault of the children. One day that child will be an adult, and will remember each and every person that ever said or done anything ugly, and will equally remember those good people who treated them simply as humans.

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TO BE CONTINUED……

Mental thought: We must always realize one simple fact. As parents we are creating a chain. What we teach our children, will then be taught to their own children.

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The Loss

A blog assignment for Writing 101: Point of View

The Prompt:

A man and a woman walk through the park together, holding hands. They pass an old woman sitting on a bench. The old woman is knitting a small, red sweater. The man begins to cry. Write this scene.

Today’s twist: write the scene from three different points of view: from the perspective of the man, then the woman, and finally the old woman.

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“Ryan”

It could not be a prettier day out, for this years annual fishing exhibition. After the year Alice and I have had, she needs this day to be perfect. In all honestly, I was not sure she would make it today. I am leaning toward the notion that she just wanted to be close to her father, as this was their thing. Each year, from the time she was able to hold a pole, they would attend this event. Just them. Rain or shine, sick or not, they were always in attendance. His cancer did not stop him the last year. He said as long as he was breathing, he would share this last moment with his daughter. They were here at this lake in the park by 4:30 am and stayed until the sun set. He refused to leave before the sun set, even though anyone could tell he was completely and utterly exhausted. The next morning, when Alice went to share all of the photos that had been taken of their day together, he had his hand out for her to come to him. She crawled in the bed with him, covered with his red crochet blanket, and he held her. Within minutes, he was gone. The closeness those two shared was magical. I envied that love. My own father had skipped out on my mother and I when I was just a toddler. I knew who he was, and had even met a few times which made the realization that some fathers, are not meant to be dads, very real.

The most devastating part of Alice losing her dad, was those photos. She knew he didn’t have the strength to look at not even one of them, which saddened her. Alice was so excited to show him those photos due to one very special image. The second picture in the stack was of an ultrasound. We had found out several weeks before, that we were pregnant, but was keeping it to ourselves until we were certain things were going good. She was afraid to hold out any longer, because of the way her dad was feeling the previous day. She made up her mind the night of the fishing exhibition that she was going to slip that ultrasound picture in with the other photos and record his face when he seen it the next morning. She could hardly wait that morning to get to the nursing home and share with him the best news of her life. As soon as she seen him, she knew he had been waiting all night for her to show up, so that he could hold her one last time before he left his body. I keep holding tight to the thought, at least she had that.

Within the months to come, the pregnancy was the only thing that could put a smile on her face. She put all of her focus into the baby things. The name, the coming home outfit, the bed, it all had to be perfect. I remember thinking, this could not have happened at a better time. This is the only thing keeping my wife going. And then it happened……

I received a call at work, from our next door neighbor. She stated that my wife was in critical condition, and I needed to hurry to the hospital. One can only imagine the fear that you develop when hearing those words. The love of my life, my soul mate, was in critical condition. I had no idea what to do with that. As soon as I reached the hospital, they allowed me to go back to be with my wife. . As I was waiting on the doctor to come speak with me,  I noticed she was no longer pregnant. Alice was medicated, so she was sleeping peacefully. I patiently waited as the doctor came in, to tell me what I had feared.

Alice had fallen from a ladder while putting border up in our unborn sons room. She landed in a terrible way, that forced her into labor. She had broken her left leg and right wrist in the fall. Our son, had died just shortly after birth. She was holding him against her when she was found by our neighbor, who just happen to be bringing Alice some lunch. That has been almost two years ago, and things are still so hard. Every day I wake up with the feeling that my son is in the shadows. Not like a ghost or anything, but just there. When I am alone, and I weep with sadness, I feel as though a warm blanket is swept around me.

Alice seemed saddened while sitting there just gazing into the lake, so I suggested we take a stroll. Maybe some walking and talking would do some good. As we approached the play-land area of the park, that is when I seen her. Sitting on a bench………

( Alice)

Ryan has pushed me and pushed me to come to this fishing thing. Nothing in me wants to be around these people, and have to muster up a smile for each of them. I have to pretend on a daily basis that this past two years, has not killed me on the inside. I know I told him “not this year“, over a dozen times. Admittedly, him making me feel guilt , has actually brought me to the happiest place of my childhood. Sitting here on this dock, with my dads blanket, floods me with such great memories. I find myself fighting back the tears of happiness, then sadness. This day should be just like every fishing exhibition that my father and I entered. Only better, because Sam should be here too. I just do not see how I will ever bounce back from all of this. Ryan does not deserve to be with me like this. I have told him time and time again that we need to divorce. He deserves so much more.

I often wonder what it would be like. To still have my dad here, and Sam running around at his feet. As I sit here,  I find myself daydreaming. Sam falls into the lake, as his Poppy grabs him by his overhaul strap. Sam losing his ball cap in the water, and as it floats away, my dad jumps in to save it, making Sam laugh and laugh. Sometimes I think I am losing it, because I often catch myself with similar scenarios in my head. I can see my son as plain as day. I share these stories that I have conjured up in my mind with Ryan, and he will have great big tears well up in his eyes. He too imagines things being different. He told me this morning that he had the realest of dreams last night. He was still full of smiles as soon as he woke, because he swore he was there.

Sam looked to have been two in the dream. It was Christmas. The whole park that we were in right now, was covered in white lights. The park smelled like Hot chocolate, popcorn, hot dogs, and everyone was gathered around a large bonfire. Sam kept wanting to run around and around the bonfire, but Ryan insisted he stay close. Ryan said, “that child was a handful”. He would not sit in one spot no matter what he was threatened or bribed with. Ryan said he looked away for a few seconds and Sam was gone. He said in his dream,  his stomach felt the exact same way it did when he walked into the hospital room the day of the accident. It was fear; fear that he had lost our son.

After searching for what seemed to be an eternity, Ryan found Sam. He noticed the red sweater he was wearing, right away. Sam was walking with an elderly woman who was concerned with him being lost. When Sam seen his dad, he ran to him, and gave him a big hug. The biggest of hugs. Squeezed him so tight, and said, “Daddy I will never leave you again.” And Ryan woke up. He said he tried desperately to go back to sleep so he could see our son again, but sleep never came.

The way he told the story, it seemed as though he really felt our sons presence. It made me envious of my husband at that moment. I want to fall asleep and dream of Sam too. I want to dream of him each and every night. I want to see exactly what he looks like, without me imagining. As I look out in the distance on this lake, I know one thing is certain. My sweet baby boy, is in a safe place with his Poppy.

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As I am staring into the abyss of the lake, Ryan grabs my hand and asked me to take a walk. We did not get 5 yards before Ryan started acting sluggish. His paced had slowed down exceptionally and he was now staring at an old lady in the distance. It looked to be one of the elderly ladies from the church that we once attended. Ryan walked up to the lady, stood in front of her for a moment, held her hand, and started sobbing…….

“The old woman”

Mrs. Harris, a local lady that went to the same church as Ryan and Michelle, was sitting on a park bench, a bit away from the lake. She had not gotten out much in the past few years due to her declining health, but something tugged at her spirit the night before to go to the park, relax and do some knitting. Truth be told, she had a very odd dream, that had stuck with her, even as she woke. It was of a young boy, next to a tree. He was crying, but was leery of the lady. He did not seem very trusting in her at first. She remembered asking him in the dream where his mommy and daddy were. He told her they were lost and sad, and he needed to find them. So they went on a search for his mom and dad. As they were walking along the side walk, weaving in and out of a crowd, Mrs. Harris asked the young man where he was from. The child answered, “Heaven.” ….Even in the dream the old woman was taken back. He was two at the most, and when he said that word, Heaven, he sounded like a grown man. “Heaven did you say?” She asked the child.”Yes Ma’am.” Replied the boy. “If you are from Heaven, then why would you come here?” Mrs. Harris asked. The young boy went on to tell her that she knew his mommy and daddy here on earth and they were in a sad way. They were not recovering well from him leaving, so he  needed her to do something for him. He needed her to knit a red sweater, and attend the fishing exhibition. As he said those words, someone in the dream stood in front of them, and thanked her for finding his son. The face on the person, was blurry so she could not see who it was. As soon as the boy and father were united, she woke up.

It is such a lovely day to sit here and knit. I can not believe how little my hands have hurt from all this morning knitting. It is almost done, though I feel extremely silly for carrying out this dream. What are the chances in my dream being a sign from the Heavens? Either way, I am going to finish this red sweater, and see what happens. If it is nothing, then I have to say, I would have rather showed up to a party with a gift, than without.

Within a few moments of putting away all of the knitting things, a couple was approaching from the distance. Normally, there would not be anything odd about it,but the closer they the couple got, the slower they would walk. When they were close enough for me to see their face, I recognized the couple from church, that had not been since…………………………………

I jumped to my feet, as the couple stood before me. This was it. It was really happening. This was the dad in my dream. The child was his little guy they had lost during a falling accident nearly two years ago. Alice and Ryan had not been to church since they had lost Alice’s dad. Then the terrible fall that caused Alice to lose their baby. It is all falling into place now. Sam had found a way to show his mom and dad that he was with them. Not in body, but in spirit.

As soon as Ryan seen the red sweater, he reached for my hand, and  began to cry.

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My Love Story

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Have you ever written a blog and hit one button on accident and BAM, everything is gone. My husband taught me how to recover things, but did I use it before I tried to find it in my drafts…Nope! I had just typed out this whole Tell All about my desperately terrible childhood. Something that I have been fighting myself with sharing for quite sometime. 15 years to be exact. I suppose it was a way of something showing me, it was way to personal to share. With that being said, I suppose I will just hold that in for a bit longer.

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Maybe I will just blog this time on a happier topic.

I am going to take you back a few years to when I was married to my first husband. It was a very short marriage, and the desolation of that marriage was completely and utterly my fault. My husband was a kind man, and loved me. I on the other hand, was a selfish twit, who only thought of herself. I was 20 and wanted to… how would you put it, “experience the world”.…with or without him. During this marriage, he and I made some friends, of course. One of those friends being my, now husband. He was a wonderful person even then. Kind, generous, loving, just all around a good guy. Unfortunately, he and I lost touch after my husband and I divorced, and I married someone else, husband #2. That someone else was a jealous douche, who did not see the point in having male friends. I would have seen his point much better if it had not of been J. He was not the type to approach a woman  who was already in a relationship. He and I never even thought of anything like that, then. We were merely friends. Nothing else. Truth be told, I think he was dating my little sister at the time. ( remember, this was nearly 20 years ago)

Anyway, 15 years later, and 3 marriages under my belt, I moved in with a friend. No job, no car, just me and my babies, and our cloths. I heard about this social media site. Well two of them actually. Maybe you have heard of them. MySpace and Facebook. 😉

I started looking up all the people I could think of and befriending them. Of course J was on the top of the list. I found him, sent him a message, and waited. Within a few weeks, at most, I got a reply. We messaged back and forth for a few days, until he invited himself over. I will never forget when he got out of his vehicle it was like stepping back in time. It had been so long since I had seen him, yet seemingly at that moment, nothing had changed.  We ordered some pizza, watched some movies, and just hung out. Talked about everyone and everything. We were STILL just friends. I was dating someone at that time, though it was a dead end relationship that was going no where, even so I had no love interest in J., Loved him, but no different than my girlfriends.

We continued our midnight Facebook messages going, he visited often, and text often. There definitely was no chance in losing touch this time. He said he had found me after all of these years, and was not letting go as easily.

It was coming close to Christmas, and I not working. I had four children to be Santa for. Fortunately there other parents were involved, so it was not like they were getting nothing. Except one. My baby, who was two at the time. The friend that I lived with, did not have a Christmas tree to put up. So J out of his own pocket, purchased the kids a Christmas tree. He borrowed the most beautiful ornaments from his mother for us to use. He even gave me the money to buy MY children a gift with.  Now, I know what you could be thinking. I fell in love with him because he bought us stuff. You would be right in a way. I did begin having a stronger connection with him. He was my best friend. BUT, it was not the material aspect that pulled me in. It was his heart. He just genuinely loved. He treated my children, whom were nothing to him other than his friends kids, as though they were perfect. My 3rd marriage involved a man who just was not emotionally capable of connecting with children and that is a nice way of putting it. So to have this man, actually want to connect with my children, and finding them deserving of his time, and his money, just made my heart so full.

I had forgotten that people like this existed.

I know this statement will sound terrible of me, but it is what it is…I was very reserved to even have the thought of a relationship between J and I to exist. He was too good. He was a strong believer in God and hung tight to his faith. I cringed at the thought of being with someone that I could be a disappointment to. Though I should have known better, because he had never been one to do so. In the few months that we had hung out, he knew my deepest darkest problems.I even shared with him each and every detail. of my love interest at that time. Such as how this person made me feel on a day to day basis, which was not always good. J never said anything negative. He was always the up-lifter. And he never told me I should not be doing this or that. He was just always supportive. His Actions really did speak volumes.

As I had stated previously, J and my sister did date when they were younger. I approached her once I felt as though he was interested in more than merely a friendship. I found the importance in knowing she would not forever be disgusted with me, or have a bad taste in her mouth over the idea. To my surprise she told me that if a person can find love in this world, then they need to go for it……That was all it took. I let my guard down, and let this man that thought I hung the moon, love me.

I told the person that I was dating at the time, that I was no longer interested in a relationship with him, that I was interested in someone else,. He automatically knew who it was because he knew we were spending time together. As I said in the beginning, it was a relationship going no where. Just killin time. Nevertheless, I felt it the appropriate thing to do, in telling this person I was moving on.

December 31, 2009 , Jason and I decided to be in a relationship. Just Us, and my babies…….

Since then we have become husband and wife. I can not even remotely describe the feeling of whole heartily knowing where you stand with someone. There is no doubt in my mind that he will love me as long as I am living, and then he will love me still. He loves my children as if he made them. He has actually raised my baby girl, who is now 7, since she was 2. He claims her to be his, and she claims him to be hers. It is very special to see them together. Her biological father has not been in the picture for several years. Jason took over, and he will never let go. It makes me love him even more than I thought possible. Just to see him with her.

I love this man with all that I am. I have never loved anyone like this. I do not fear him hurting me. I know with all of my being that he shares the same emotions as I do. When you can look over and just stare at your spouse, without them knowing, and get lost in them, then you have a winner. We never argue. We do not find any reasons to. If I am having a bad day then we figure it out or he just lets me be. If he is having one, I return the favor. We are partners, best friends, soul mates…We have both had disastrous pasts. Which helps us to be thankful for all of this good.

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It is a wonderful thing to have such a love. What is not wonderful, is always fearing that it can be taken away at any minute. I fear it so much to the point of constant nightmares of something fatal happening. For five years now, I experience these nightmares at least a few times a week. Some bad, some worse. Either way, I am not quite sure I would make it without him. The idealistic way for him to go, is right beside me when we reach 100. Well, I will be 100.5 seeing that I am 6 months older than he is 😉

My husband loves God first and foremost. I know that is what makes him who he is. He is the type of God fearing Christian that loves and gives that love freely, instead of well I would love them if they done this, or I would love them if they had never done that. It does not matter who you are or what you have done. He is the real deal.

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Quick off the subject story: We had taken the kids to Six Flags, and stopped at the store on the way out. A man was standing on the sidewalk at the entrance of this store. This man was an obvious “bum” .  When J walked out, he approached the man and gave him some money. When he got back in the car, I said, ” You know he is going to walk right in that store and buy alcohol with that money.” He said, ” If he is an alcoholic, and does not get alcohol, he could die.” We did not know that mans story. He could have just been a lazy person, with all of the resources to be someone productive and refused to do so, or he could have been a War veteran with no family or support. My husband sees the best in people. He blames the worst on evil bringing them down. He believes there is hope for anyone and everyone to accept Jesus, and enter into the Kingdom.

J would proudly give the shirt off of his back, literally , to anyone in need. If we were strapped for cash, and only 20$ to our name, and someone needed our last dollar, it would be theirs. People can ask him to help them do anything in the world, and he would gladly be right there. As long as it is not robbing a bank of course.;-).

I love his heart so very much. Our love is the kind that is few and far between. I suppose that is why I make sure I tell him often, and then some, just how much I love him, and how thankful I am that he seen fit to make me his wife.

For the first time in all my life, I know what Marriage is. I spoke vows, and meant them. I placed a ring on a finger that I would never forsake. Not even the sexiest man alive could turn my head, because my soul belongs to the Love Of My Life.. My husband.

Mental thought: When you find someone to love, love them like tomorrow will not come. 2012-1013 067

Blogging

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So, I have noticed that the most attention my blogs receive are of my “personal experiences”. My opinionated blogs, are not seeing much traffic. I would say I wonder why that is, but I am pretty certain I can guess. When I am reading others blogs, I like to read the personal issues as well. I suppose part of me is looking for someone to relate to, as I am sure others do as well. Then there are those that really would like to get to know who a person really is. Reading a Blog is definitely a good way to start. Bloggers often are tell-alls, such as myself. We just really have nothing to hide. I personally feel if I can help one person with the words I put on a screen, then I have accomplished the task at hand.

Each and every person on earth has made mistakes…..Well, maybe not everyone. I am sure there are some Monks that feel as though they are perfection to a T. If one can hold that honor, then I am clapping my hands for you.

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In all honesty, bloggers are probably idealistic friends. Besides the part where they may eventually share a story that you may or may not have not been a part of 😉 I try not to share names when I am talking about a specific situation, because of the privacy issue. But regardless, THAT friend will always know……

I say idealistic friends because of the open and honest factor. There is just about no way around Really knowing who one is, when they pour their life out on a screen. When they share their own personal views on things; when they share their mistakes; favorites; love stories; etc… I have so much to tell. If I started from as far back as I can remember, which would be age 3, I could share some horror stories. Sadly that is all I remember of my childhood. Well, there was that one time when the Salvation Army truck pulled up to our door and unloaded bags of toys for Christmas. That was a good day. Age 7. Those good memories are few and far between, and sadly they were not made from the actions of our parents. I have much more bad memories to tell, and I know that those are the interesting ones. Interesting on two factors. Some will relate, and some will pity. Some will completely understand, and some will be thankful that they never went through, or felt those discrepancies in their lives. I am close to having the courage to share more in detail of my childhood. I know there are so many in my area that faced the same thing. It seems like where I live, no one wants more. We have adapted to the small  life. Not that it is not okay. I actually enjoy the way things are. I am not a business person, I am not a city slicker. I am a country girl, who likes the simple life. Sadly though, so many  people get sucked into that simple life and lose a little each generation. Until finally one of those generations are low life, scum bags that take and take and take from anyone and anything. Those are the ones who end up having off spring that they do not see the importance in nurturing. In return those children have children, who are taught the same, and there goes the never ending cycle of bad seeds.

I have family on top of family that started out good and ended with fail. I have the same amount of family that started out with fail, and have brought themselves out of the pits of hell. I  like to think I am one of them. But it certainly did not come without making mistake after mistake, and some of those mistakes were made as I was trying to “better myself” . I will eventually get to those stories, but for now, I will close and leave you all pondering with, What will the next Blog be about?

Until Next time….

Mental thought: Write it down, it is the best way to remember…

Dealing with a Sad Day

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Today I have went blank on what to blog about. I usually have all kinds of things floating around in my noggin to be opinionated about, but not today. Today I am focused on one thing. Sadness.

This past weekend, my oldest child, turned 16. And NO, the sadness does not generate from the fact he is aging me …Though now that I think about it…..

Eight years ago, I signed custody over to my sons father, out of fear, due to threats from my sons father and his attorney. Unfortunately I have been known to be too gullible at times. This was one of those times. His attorney took advantage of the fact I myself could not afford an attorney. I had decided to not worry about that, and go in and  plead my case with the judge. Sure I did not have a place to live, a job, a vehicle, because the ex had taken it all. ( everything was in his name) But I was a good mother. At least I had that going for me.

This attorney, his attorney, took me into an enclosed area, and shared some information with me. He said today we are prepared to bring light to a few things…Even though I believe he knew those few things were lies, he was willing to do whatever it took to win this case for HIS client.

He began to tell me what those things were. One was that I was a physically abusive person. Another was, I was bipolar, and the last was true, and what he had made me fear the most from, I had an affair. I would try and sugar coat that fact, and say that we were not in fact married, divorced previously, and what relationship we did have was a living nightmare,but that does not justify my actions. I was in fact living with this man, therefore, I should have left long before this affair ever had taken place.

The attorney went on to explain to me that no judge in his right mind would allow a mother with no home, transportation, job, that was physically abusive, mentally unstable, and slept around, to gain full custody, the best I would get would be a few hours every other week, and there was a slight possibility it would be every week, yet supervised.

I can not even put into words the way that made me feel. I was so terrified of only seeing my child every other week. Sure I had made poor choices. Sure I was not perfect. But no way did I, did my son, deserve to spend such minimal time together, and that minimal time be supervised at the local McDonalds.

The attorney then advised that I take a deal. The deal being my sons father with full custody and me every weekend visitation, with normal visitation on holidays, summer ,etc. At that time, with fear in my mind, and also the knowledge that my son was wanting to live with his father, I caved. I allowed this person to trick me into signing these papers. I knew the only reason he wanted custody of our son was because he did not want to be responsible to pay child support. Everything was fine with me keeping custody, until I threatened him with it. My son wanted to live with his father because he stated that his dad had no one else. I had my other children, but his dad was alone. I would bet my life on it that his father had a little something to do with that.

Less than a year later my sons father was being investigated for child abuse against his then, girlfriends child. Because of this incident, a temporary custody plan had to be enforced. Instead of me, the paternal grandmother was chosen, by the father. Within a few weeks of this decision, she had filed for custody.

I was so surprised by this. I thought, not again. I finally had my son in my reach, because once his father was found guilty of this action he was being accused of, then my son could return home to me. I had a place to live, by this time, and income, so things were better. Still not perfect, but better.

No way was I going to be railroaded this time, so I went and spoke to an attorney.

Sadly, I put all my faith in this man and I knew that there was no way a court of law would give my son to his grandmother, when I was capable of caring for him………………..

In court that day, both sides said their arguments, and we went home. I checked my mail every day waiting for the letter from my attorney. Checked my phone every few minutes, waiting for the call from my attorney. It seemed as though it took forever. I knew any day I was going to get the ”go ahead” to pick my son up. Why was it taking so long? Then the letter came.

DENIED……………………………………..

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Not only was I denied custody, I lost my visitation. I no longer got to have my son every weekend now, but every first and third Saturday from 8am to 8pm..( no over night visits) A few hours on his birthday, a few hours on Christmas, and a few hours on Mothers Day. I asked to Appeal this, and the attorney said he would appeal it for $7000 on top of the $2500 that he had charged me to do the case to begin with. But warned me that the only way another judge will trump this judges order is if he can not hear the transcripts. So I needed $7000 more to take a chance that the tapes were messed up and a Montgomery judge could not hear what was being said on the tapes, and I could get another day in court……..$7000 that had to be paid up front, and I still owed $2000 of the $2500.

The reasoning behind this decision was based on what my sons father had threatened me with a year prior to this. I was unstable, I suffered with mental disease, I could not afford to care for son, I was abusive, etc. Sadly none of these facts had to be proven to this judge. It was a hear say case, and her say won. The only thing that was ever stated in any of those papers that was true was I had an affair. I had never been diagnosed with bipolar, though I have suffered with depression from time to time, it is far from being bipolar.  Only once was I abusive to my sons father and I recall throwing a jar toward ( didn’t strike) him out of anger. That was the only thing abusive that I done in the whole 10 years of our relationship. There were occasions where he would hold me down to keep me from leaving the house, to avoid an argument, and I am sure I may have hurt him then, but it was not intentional. No one enjoys being held against their will. And yes, the abuse was suppose to have happened toward him, not my son. Though the grandmother did make one accusation that I grabbed my sons arm too hard once when I was getting on to him for something.

So for eight long years I have had minimal time with my now grown child. On his birthday he had a game to march in, ( he plays sax) therefore I could not get him for our schedule 3 hour birthday visitation. I have missed out on our visitation times on more than one occasion because of his extra curricular activity. I would not HAVE to, because my visitation is court ordered and trumps any kind of practice or game, concert, exhibition, competition, yet I choose to not take that from my son. I know those things are important to him. Too bad his paternal family can not see the things that are important. Or do they, and just do not care. Selfishness seems to be the way of our world.

So Sadness has consumed me for the past few days. I am in a complete funk. I try not to let these people steal the happy that has taken me so long to gain back after they destroyed my life,but at times, it is harder than others. It consumes me. I just want to wake up one morning and my son be in his bed, in my home,  his home, with the rest of his family…..

Terrorism/9:11

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I am certain I am not the only one blogging about this today. I just can not seem to get it off of my mind no matter what I do. Every little thing that I see, or think, ends up pushing my mind to the thought. The thought of all of those people who lost their lives that day over such a hateful act. I can not help but to think, ” was all of this a conspiracy?” Have we, as a nation, done this to ourselves by trusting too much in anothers leadership? I shiver to think that anyone can be responsible of such a horrific thing, but obviously someone is this evil,  or it would have never taken place. I just pray to God that it did not come from someone in our *neck of the woods*.

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My daughter told me yesterday on the way home from school, that there were several children who would not be attending today. She said people are scared that we are going to get bombed. We live in a town, not a city of any stature, so I am certain there is nothing to worry about, as far as the school being hit. But I sit here pondering over that conversation.

That devastating day, thirteen years ago, is haunting the very child I was pregnant with when it happened. This evil that we faced then, is still with us in our hearts and minds. We fear that something similar is going to happen on the anniversary of that fatal day. Our children are aware of it, and are becoming fearful of a re-occurrence as well.

I wonder if it is wise to make sure they know of the terrible circumstances or do we keep it from them? I find myself wanting to talk with my daughter about it. But then that conversation is going to lead to details. Is her mind old enough to grasp it all? Will it affect her in a way to where she does not want to leave the house? I am referring to a child that can not sleep when it is raining for fear of a tornado. We were not hit directly during the wide spread event, but the hardest hit of our area was less than a mile away from where we were. So it terrifies her to go to sleep and not wake up. I just do not know what to do to comfort my children when the fear of terrorism strikes.I want my children to feel safe in their home, in their school, In THEIR Country, THEIR homeland…

I was sitting on my couch, scrolling over media sites and heard a very loud roar. I realized it was some sort of plane, that was obviously flying low, so I went to investigate. I wished I had taken my phone with me. I can not explain how low it was flying, and I have never seen a plane quit like it. I am sure it was an army plane. But why so low. Like just above the tree lines. Like they were trying to stay under radar. And over this town? Of course my blood pressure starts going up, because I am thinking the worst. I share the information with my husband in hopes of a quick response, because his employment is close to the school where the kids are. He replied quickly so I did not share with him what my imagination had led me to think,.

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I know it may sound unrealistic to some, but evil will fall anywhere. They may have certain targets,but other places can become accidental targets. I fear for my children’s safety, for my husband’s safety. I fear that someday we are going to have to relive that terrible day. May God be with us in that event, And may God be with the families that lost loved ones on that day 13 years ago.

Mental Thought : We will Never Forget 9-11-01

Depression

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This disease is something I know all too well. 

I understand that many do not feel it is a disease, but more or less a weakness, or an excuse. I imagine that thought process is coming from someone who has never experienced it. And maybe it is a weakness, but it is what it is. It is sadness from the depths of our soul that we can not shake just because we want to. 

I have suffered with depression from as far back as I can remember. I would say at least the beginning of my teenage years, if not sooner. 

I was molested as a young child, and I was brought up in a home of hatred, alcoholism, and abuse, mentally and physically.

The depression tag tends to hang on to people who grew up in unstable situations. At least I personally feel this is true. Depression can happen to any single person on this earth. No  matter the race, religion, sex,  etc….It just happens. We become saddened, and that sadness thickens until we are so overwhelmed that we can not get away from it. Sadness so desperate that not the sweetest gesture, or the best looking piece of chocolate cake, can break through. 

The most common causes of Depression are: Hormones, Tragedy, Hereditary, and Brain chemistry. 

Hormones- Thyroid problems and Menopause can be the culprit of a Depressive state.

Tragedy- Very common that when we have a death in the family we become saddened. Some of us have more will power to eventually shake the sadness, and some of us refuse to let go of it. 

Hereditary- This disease is more common in individuals who have a blood relative that has suffered as well. 

Brain Chemistry- People that show brain chemistry being slightly off, also have depressive symptoms. 

So many people suffer with this disease, and a lot of the times it turns deadly because no one knows how to handle it, and there are the ones that do not understand it that poke fun, or call it a joke, which can push someone over the edge if they have come for help. 

I have heard things, and read things, such as, these people who claim to be suffering with depression are “wanting someone to feel sorry for them”, “a pathetic call for help”, “lazy”, “needy”, the list goes on and on. 

In young people between mid teens and mid 20’s, Suicide from Depression, is the second leading cause of death.

This is not an infatuated illness. This is something that causes people to take their own lives. The depression becomes so overwhelming and humiliating that people refuse to seek help. People that do not believe it is an illness, just let their friends deal with their “laziness” on their own, when all they had to do was just listen. Sometimes the listening is enough, because in the beginning, we only want people to attempt to understand. If it keeps going, then we talk ourselves into believing that not only does no one understand, but they simply do not care. 

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I have been depressed on so many occasions, and I still get in a funk from time to time. Thankfully I have a strong person by my side now that would never let me slip too far. But before him, I have been way down deep. So deep that thoughts of the easiest suicide was contemplated. My personal choice was driving my vehicle of of a high embankment. I am not much for pain, so the wrists were a definite NO. hanging….not a chance, pills, not quite enough in my reach that would do the trick. I did not want to take the chance in it NOT being successful. Most importantly,  I thought running my car off of a bluff was a good idea, because people would think it was an accident. No one would ever suspect I was committing suicide. I had a small child at the time. And thinking of him is what snapped me out of my thought process.

I was sitting in my truck, after one of many huge fights with my  husband ( at the time). I was less than a mile from home. I was so upset that I could not even drive. Sitting there with the thought of “not being able to do this anymore”, was just going over and over in my mind.  I was just at the dead end of my rope. I had no one to turn to. I had let go of most family and friends by this point, because I did not want anyone knowing that I was so miserable. And the few people that I did have, I could not bring myself to ask for help, for fear of humiliation.  I suppose that is why I felt so desperate to end my life. As I was sitting there going over the thoughts of how to do so in my mind, I had to do this in such a way that my son would never find out. I could not let him think that I did not love him enough to keep on keeping on.  And that is when it hit me….But I DO love him enough to keep on. He was the only person in my life that I knew loved me the real way. He was only 2, but I knew he loved his mamma. After two and a half hours of sitting on the side of the road, crying and trying to figure out how to end my life, I went home. And the next day, I went to the doctor. 

If it were not for my son, I would not be here. He was my only saving grace.

Some people do not let themselves think about anyone else when they are in that state of mind. The only thinking done is negative.. The depression grabs a hold, and it is like having someone else saying,  “you are not worthy of anything good.”  All the people that are in our lives, do not deserve to have to deal with all of this, they would be better off without you.  So ending it all, seems like the appropriate thing to do. 

I can not explain exactly what grabbed a hold of me that day and tore me away from my terrible thoughts. I am a Christian, so I tend to lean more toward the fact that God had a purpose for me that was yet fulfilled. Whatever it may have been, I am thankful. If I had of ended my life that day, I would not be the mother of four children, and married to the love of my life.

Those episodes, are what causes so many people to lose control and make such a huge mistake. Their lack of feeling worthy, is deadly. Depression is a disease. Believe it or not , it is. It needs to be treated as such. So many people lose their fight against it because they do not feel worthy. But we are worthy. We are worthy of seeing what we can accomplish. The sadness will fade in time. We may or may not need help in that happening, but it will happen. 

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If you feel sad all the time, tell someone. If you feel as though death is a better place for you then think of the people around you that would have to feel what you feel right now if you took your own life. If you are depressed, and you have no one to talk to, go to a hospital, Go to a church, Find someone online. Talk to me…I would feel honored..

Mental Thought : Death will find us soon enough. Too soon, would be a waste of what we could become, who we could help.