I’m a FABULOUS Mother!

Ever since I moved on 12/31, I’ve fallen behind on my dog’s [expensive] monthly grooming appointments. By late April, I can’t conceal the fact that he is positively filthy! I am too, for that matter.

But I do think his skin condition has improved (aside from the mats and ear mites). And he’s lost some weight.

He’s actually HAPPY to get the processed doggie SPAM-and-Veggie loaf I feed him!! No food boycotts anymore! I guess when I’m the Mom, you take your meals when you can. Bathroom breaks, too.

We don’t do much spoiling around Chez Me (unless it’s me getting spoiled).

Like I said: I’m a FABULOUS MOTHER ❣️

Still Not Perfect:


In 40 years you gave me 3 (clipped) compliments and at least 300 (detailed) criticisms.

All to build MY character.

Had we spent more time together, surely you would have “improved” me to death.

So…

You’ll forgive me if I never felt loved.

[“Like” was so far out of reach, I never even conceived it]

Mostly I raced and chased after your constantly climbing targets until I collapsed – empty, emaciated, and starving.

Your meager love gave out early. It never provided nourishment anyway.

What a waste of your precious time because I’m still wretched ME! All efforts to carve me into YOU failed.

No doubt you’re sad about that. I’m sad too because:

I DON’T [think I] MISS YOU ANYMORE.

Go ahead and hate me.

<Same shit, different day>

Why Did You Leave?

I love you.

I’ve never loved anyone this much.

I can’t live without you.

What did you say?

I can’t believe you said that to me.

What’s wrong with you?

You must not be the person I thought you were.

In fact, I can’t stand the sight of you.

Get the fuck out and never come back!!

I don’t ever want to lay eyes on you again.

——————————————-

Why did you abandon me?

Teenagers‼️

Why does my heart bleed for teenagers when I never had any of my own? I try to give them (probably misguided) advice – see my reply to a young girl’s comment. I know: wisdom from the woman known as Karaoke Konnection on YouTube. It’s laughable.

Then, please tell me if it’s misguided. Because I really need to know. It’s profoundly, remarkably, achingly important to me that my words never damage these young people. I want them to excel and to thrive and to keep Humanity alive!

More than anything…

Please Watch if You Love a Teenager

I’m 54, and I feel like you’re telling my story. I know it feels like your father has betrayed all of you (because he did) and everything that once seemed so certain now seems terribly uncertain. And you don’t even get to be mad because you’re being such a little adult, keeping up your end of the deal, while the adults are abandoning their roles as if they never existed in the first place. I’m so sorry that the pressure has fallen on you during this time. My only advice for all of you teenagers who are hurting now is:
Please never bury the real and unique you that burns inside. You know your dreams and your passions and your heart in a way no other person does. Your circumstances will change frequently throughout your life, but your essence, your personhood, won’t. Please don’t EVER bury yourselves so much in your efforts to make others happy that you extinguish the beautiful flame that burns in each one of you❣️

P.S. Tell your parents a lady older than them said so‼️

I Don’t Think I Believe You

Journal, 11/07/21

You just couldn’t stick around, could you? You really expect me to believe that YOU hurt after WE left? After going on your own vacation and cheating on us? After I’d just been born?

Well I don’t. I don’t believe you.

I’m surprised you even bothered to take the picture in the first place since you didn’t keep a copy for yourself. Come to think of it, I don’t remember ever seeing a photo of me in your home or office.

What’s that? You say you never felt seen as child, either? You felt misunderstood, even though you were an ‘only child’? I don’t imagine you’d much like being lost in a shuffle.

So once again, I’m not sure I believe you.

But who am I to say?

Only your daughter. Your second child of four. The only one you never wanted in the first place [second place, third place, last place]; the “fix it baby” who didn’t fix a goddamned thing.

(I’m sorry I couldn’t make the font smaller… I know you don’t like it when I’m too “here.”)

Things to Always Remember

Journal from July, 2021

• I’m gifted and can’t lose my gifts.

• I’m physically beautiful, period.

• I’m worthy because I’m human – full stop.

• When I’m being hard on myself, I need to cease and desist and start describing myself as a friend. I must be NICE to her!

• Leaves on a Stream for 5-10 minutes.

• Breathe in colors and textures and life and breathe out rapacious, enveloping darkness.

• Engage by: how my body feels, what I hear around me, what I see around me. Focusing on the here and now and what’s in front of me.

• Practice mindfully doing things: I must do things I don’t like in a mindful way, do things I DO like in a mindful way (focus without “psychological smog” hijacking my mind and leeching my life of color), and practice doing everyday tasks mindfully.

Please don’t think I’m vain, you guys! I’d hate to think anyone thought that. This is my therapy I give to myself. I thought perhaps my notes from – and individual additions to – a few tricks I learned from Audible’s “Confidence Gap” book might make you feel better, too❣️

The Upcoming Anniversary of My Father’s Death

Journal 10/26/2021

The first anniversary of my father’s death is in 6 days, on 10/31/21.

It feels like all of the anger, shock, outrage, and righteous indignation have run their course. And now I just want to cry for a month straight.

About what we both missed as children. No one ever “mirrored” his emotions during his stoic West Texas childhood: how would he ever know to mirror mine?

How could he know that by silencing me, I never told anyone what I was truly feeling or what was truly happening?

It doesn’t change the fact that he left me alone to process a suite of emotions too complex for a small child to process on her own.

As a result, the arbiter of my worth was transferred from Me (worth self-motivated) to Whomever I Was With (worth tied to external approval).

My chaotic childhood turned me into a chameleon I often feared was dead and bone dry on the inside. I would now call that kind of person a “cypher.” Unfortunately, my emptiness isn’t easily filled. Some have tried, but none have succeeded (or stayed, for that matter). They never stay. I wish my emptiness was filled by a plain old human being, but it feels endless sometimes.

I already feel like I’ve cried enough. Isn’t 500+ months of crying enough?

Well, isn’t it?

For once, I honestly don’t know how I feel inside.

Torn? Conflicted? No.

Spent.

But still begging to be set free. Promising I’ll never tell. Pleading for my life.

Little Girl: You have nothing to say. Quit crying or I’ll give you something to cry about. And while we’re at it: you’re the most hopelessly unathletic AND the most self-centered person I’ve ever known. Look how you start every sentence with the word ‘I’” [insert ubiquitous eye roll of contempt].

You know what? I changed my mind.

YOU GO AHEAD AND STAY DEAD, Sweet Daddy.

Please just STAY IN HELL!

I beg you to leave me alone for a year – just a year!!

Please, could I have one last year?

It’s ALL I want left in this life: One Last Year of Freedom from Your Voice Before I Die.

I don’t give a DAMN about your money! All I want is for you to…

SHUT THE FUCK UP!!

A Child Cries, Unheard

If Grown-Up You met Little me,
Would you seize Opportunity
To Spend some Time Alone with me?
So you could have your way with me?
When Grown-Up You met Little me.

If Cunning You met First-Grade me,
And no adults were there to see,
You’d whisper that You dream of me,
Embarrassed, I would blush and freeze.
When Cunning You met First-Grade me.

If Evil You met Trusting me,
You’d kill the innocence in me.
You’d carve Your wounds of Pain on me,
And strip me of my dignity.
When Evil You met Trusting me.

Tell it, Sir, Please tell it true.
I pray there’s still some Good in You.

Please Mister, What’s Your Rationale;
What Made You Steal a Little Child?


You Swear that there’s a Voice to Blame,
A Voice Who Wears Your Face and Name.
This Voice Who Bound me to the Floor,
Is this the Voice You Can’t Ignore?

You think You’ve Gotten Rid of me,
But I’ll Haunt You Relentlessly
Expose the Hell Behind Your Eyes.
They’re all I saw before I died.

Revised 9/26/21

Do I Know You?

Unlike other people on Facebook, I cannot share photos of my children and their children.

Because I could not have children.

I can only share my heart.

I write these words for the ONE PERSON who has felt my pain.

I want that ONE PERSON to know he or she is not alone.

I don’t care who I offend: my passion is for that ONE PERSON only.

That in the recognition of their pain in my expression of mine, our burdens are momentarily reduced. ❤️‍🔥

The Shape of Pain

No
Ow!
Stop
Hurts
Stop!!!
Please❣️
Why? ???
Please stop!
You’re hurting me.
YOU’RE HURTING ME‼️
WHY are you doing this?
What did I ever do to you?
I’ll do anything; please stop.
FOR THE LOVE OF GOD, JUST STOP!
Okay, I guess I must deserve it
I was never very good at all
I probably deserve this 🥲
Could you just kill me?
I’m already dead.
Please bury me.
Tell my Mom.
Tell God?
Corpse
Stop
Bye
No
0

Why Do Women?

Why do WOMEN:

- [ ] Spend a small fortune on cosmetics, camouflaging our natural beauty?
- [ ] Spend a large fortune on gyms, diets, and whatever undergarments are necessary so that we can tolerate looking at ourselves in the mirror?
- [ ] Get big brown caterpillars tattooed onto our eyebrows?
- [ ] Wear false eyelashes (including the magnetic type which literally burns our eyeballs?)
- [ ] Inject Botulinum Toxin into our faces to “blur” the wrinkles?
- [ ] Inject Dermal fillers to “plump back up” the natural baby fat we’ve lost in our cheeks and our lips?
- [ ] Pay for professional facials, microdermabrasion treatments, laser skin refinement, eyebrow lifts, breast implants, tummy tucks, and other forms of cosmetic enhancement?
- [ ] Spend up to $100 per month getting hair removed from the places deemed “un-hair-worthy” in 2021?
- [ ] Think we need, purchase books about, and then relentlessly execute vagina-tightening and/or vagina-loosening exercises, depending on the way we personally feel insufficient (and by aged 54, we only have two options: the droopy post-childbirth vagina and the dried-up, post-menopausal vagina: if I’ve failed to consider a third option, by all means please do let me know below).
- [ ] Suffer the indignity of the stirrups in middle age to get prescriptions for hormones we no longer produce, some of which can be very dangerous to us, in order to be “as feminine as possible”?
- [ ] Get therapy to process our issues because the last thing we ever want to do is to HURT SOMEONE ELSE?
- [ ] Immediately blame ourselves if anything goes wrong in one of our friendships or romantic relationships?
- [ ] NOT tell the whole world how smart we actually ARE? As in: all day long?
- [ ] Not say what we’re really thinking (example: “It actually scares me how much I’m dumbing myself down to be with you”)?
- [ ] Stick around in abusive, unfulfilling, unsatisfying, and/or unsupportive long-term relationships, all the while buying books like “How to Be Present for Your Partner’s Inner Child” and “How To Be Smoking Hot in The Bedroom”?
- [ ] Feel compelled to share our failures, catalogue our flaws, and admit to our shortcomings?

When MEN:

- [ ] Will gladly repeat that list of failures to us, lest we forget it,
- [ ] Won’t get therapy, and
- [ ] Won’t even consider getting a prescription for Viagra?

No wonder these new generations of women are going “Rogue Lesbian”: if you don’t have something to bring to the party, well… it’s a really boring party, okay? And I’m REALLY tired of pretending like it’s not and then blaming MYSELF for the fact that YOUR PARTY IS BORING!!

Ruminations on Being a Young Child, Divorced by Many Adults

One of my greatest fears is that I’m so damaged at my core that I’ll never be whole or “good enough.” This sense of defect comes from very early survival-level fears of being abandoned. This all began when my parents divorced when I was a baby, and my mom, older sister and I moved across country to be near my grandparents 4 states east of where I was born and my father lived. My mother remarried when I was 3 years old (the first of my three stepfathers), and I was instructed to call my new stepfather “Daddy.” So when at 4 I was told I was going to FLY to go visit my “real daddy,” I was very confused. I only knew my mother and only caregiver had just placed me on a commercial airline jet to go see someone I didn’t know as an unaccompanied minor, told to say I was 5 (since that was the minimum age required to fly alone), and instructed to “be a good girl.” But I wasn’t because I wet my pants waiting for my real daddy to reach the gate and he didn’t know what to do with me (and I was certain he wanted to send me to someone else for “messing up.”)

What parents would leave a 4-year-old to deal with that alone in this day and age? I didn’t even ask myself that question until I was 54 years old and trying to understand my “anxious” attachment style. Because it didn’t just happen once. No, I did this every summer and at least one holiday a year. I was constantly saying goodbye to people I loved at airports… throughout the entirety of my childhood and college years.

This early pattern of being flown from one family to another resulted in a grasping panic at the moment of leaving my current parent, preceded by a increasing tension and sense of dread and sadness about the impending goodbye. These goodbyes were ALWAYS hard because I ALWAYS bonded with whichever family I was with at the time. My dream all the way through high school was that my WHOLE family had a giant palace somewhere so that we could all live together. It’s laughable now that i never thought about their lives in their separate cities – and that I actually thought they would live together, essentially, because of ME. As if the concept of ME ever kept my parents under the same roof!

But I don’t want to go down my “rabbit hole” here. I want to think of all of the benefits I’ve received from being born to my parents when I was, where I was, and having the childhood and upbringing I had. It’s in my ENFP optimistic nature to have to find the sweet in the bitter, so these are the BENEFITS I believe I received from my chaotic formative years:

1. I was born as a sensitive child to begin with (not a ‘HSC’ highly sensitive child, just more sensitive than most). I realize if this trait had been absent, I probably wouldn’t have imprinted everything so deeply and suffered so much pain. Yet I would never change this part of me. Why? It’s ESSENTIAL to my personhood, wrapped around the double-helixes of my emotional DNA. I can’t imagine being me without my more heightened emotional responses to the stimuli of life.

2. That grabbing, clutching fear when leaving each parent at the airport is a major driver of my fear of abandonment machine that I have allowed to drive all OVER my adult life! And I think the reason I get that panicky and UNBEARABLE ‘what did I do wrong NOW?’ feeling when a relationship goes South is rooted in this SPECIFIC childhood trauma. It’s always ugly when it rears its head, and it always leads to the opposite outcome (push away) of what I intended in the moment (please draw near). I throw out these angry-seeming or equally gushing words in my begs for reassurance, and I’ve got the cringe-worthy texts to prove it. But the goal here is to look at what benefit, if any, I experienced from these traumatic experiences. And the main one that was fed by these in particular is my RESILIENCE; my survivability. I was always terrified that my heart would literally explode with anguish each and every time I said goodbye to my parents at an airport gate. I could never stop the tears as I boarded that long walkway to the plane. I remember one flight where I actually cried until halfway through the flight, but that was the exception rather than the rule. Usually I was no longer crying by the time I reached the cockpit, and each flight I completed proved I could survive the separation from my caregivers. I had to experience the pain of the separation in the moment; and in that moment, walk away anyway. Such bravery was expected from this scared cryer of a little girl who WAS and IS great big strong me! And just look at what a force I am now, people!

3. This is really a re-statement of #2, but here goes anyway: I learned at a very young age to adapt to my surroundings in order to survive. I believe this is why I’m still here – if not yet fully thriving, I’m at least energetically growing, learning, and becoming a better version of myself every day. And that’s not nothing!

July 30, 2021