Sometimes we need to pay attention to what we read and to what we are told. It never hurts to ask for clarification because sometimes, some things, need to be clarified.
I am not versed, to any degree, in psychology or psychological disorders. Even when I studied it in college, the course I took never did delve too deep into the various disorders. I wish it had.
I was sexually abused as a child and teen, as well as being mentally and emotionally abused by a parent.
I have always felt things deeper, more painfully, and much longer than most people. I term myself super sensitive because I am.
Criticism of myself by others causes me to want to run away, or sometimes, end my life. It hurts worse than any physical wound I have ever experienced. It is not that I am arrogant and think myself perfect and superior because, the fact is, I do not. I actually feel sub-par, unworthy, and pretty damned stupid most of the time. But, I lie to myself and tell myself that I am good and worthy and smart and wonderful. Truth is, I'm not and I don't believe I am for a moment.
I 'vent' the frustrations I have within myself via anger; angry outbursts, negative words and actions, conniption fits and tyrannical tantrums!
Most of the time I don't know what to do with myself.
I'm either super happy or 'God let me die right now' sad.
What I am not is a liar. I 'own' these unexplainable, incomprehensible, unwanted aspects of my complex personality. I just wish I knew what to do with them.
I do 'deal' with them, but not always in what others would deem as constructive, positive ways. But I deal with things the only way I know how...I walk away. I remove myself from the situations and the triggers that send me spiraling downward. I sever ties with people who make me feel worse about me.
So, in 1994 I decided that I wanted to go to college. Due to my age, and because I wasn't certain what I wanted to do, I was referred to a community center that specialized in helping older displaced people enter college and pursue majors. I saw a psychologist and was given a series of tests, aka psychological evaluations. When the results were in, I was handed a packet detailing the findings as the psychologist went over the results with me. The main thing I remember, the only thing that seemed to matter to me, were the IQ findings. They were high and that pleased me. But, I did not pay any attention to what he said concerning the psychological findings except for one word: 'Borderline'.
Well, I wasn't a psychologist then, nor am I now, so at the time I 'assumed' he meant that I was close to having a problem, but hadn't crossed the line.
I'm actually laughing now at how literal I took what he said!
All these years...
Today I ran across those old papers and as I read them I stopped and asked myself, "Have I EVER actually read every word of this???"
Apparently I have not...until today.
Well, he never said that I was 'on the border' of having a disorder. What he said was..."You have Borderline Personality Disorder"...and "Post Traumatic Stress"...and "sometimes Manic-Depressive traits".
Well, Damn! Why didn't I read this in 1994???
Wednesday, March 4, 2015
Wednesday, April 23, 2014
Dirt & good days
I played in the dirt again today, and it was wonderful!
I used to think that Fall was my favorite season, and while I do love it, I must admit that spring is pretty wonderful, too.
Spring is the time when I plant and transplant, water and hope & pray whatever I've stuck in the ground grows. Most does, thankfully. Trees, bushes, plants, cacti, seeds, seedlings, bulbs...I am not partial to any as I enjoy planting them all.
Sometimes I think I find more joy in the planting than in the plant reaching maturity!
I would love to have a small, lush, tropical-like garden here, but I know that will most likely never happen because I, uh, live in the desert. But still...I can dream and I can try to bring a little green beauty to my little yard.
Anyway, it was a good day because I played in the dirt. Actually, any day that I get to play in the dirt is pretty okay in my opinion!
I used to think that Fall was my favorite season, and while I do love it, I must admit that spring is pretty wonderful, too.
Spring is the time when I plant and transplant, water and hope & pray whatever I've stuck in the ground grows. Most does, thankfully. Trees, bushes, plants, cacti, seeds, seedlings, bulbs...I am not partial to any as I enjoy planting them all.
Sometimes I think I find more joy in the planting than in the plant reaching maturity!
I would love to have a small, lush, tropical-like garden here, but I know that will most likely never happen because I, uh, live in the desert. But still...I can dream and I can try to bring a little green beauty to my little yard.
Anyway, it was a good day because I played in the dirt. Actually, any day that I get to play in the dirt is pretty okay in my opinion!
Forgiveness & Letting Go
- Forgiveness does not always lead to a healed relationship. Some people are not capable of love, and it might be wise to let them go along with your anger. Wish them well, and let them go their way.
- Real Live Preacher, RealLivePreacher.com Weblog, July 7, 2003
- The stupid neither forgive nor forget; the naive forgive and forget; the wise forgive but do not forget.
- Thomas Szasz, The Second Sin (1973) "Personal Conduct"
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Tuesday, April 22, 2014
The hateful, mean, cruel, unforgivable letter in it's entirety...
Wednesday, September 4, 2013
Dear Mother,
I do not know where to begin, so I will start with the general topics.
I hope that your health is improving.
I am glad to hear that [*] is doing well and my thoughts and prayers are with him.
I received your letter and the copies of the communications between you and Daddy. They were not necessary, but I thank you, all the same.
Now to the specifics.
Let me get Daddy out of the way right now. I write this letter to you and not to him, therefore I will try to address issues only pertaining to you. Anything I have to say to and about him, I will say to him.
I know that he was an ass to you, I know that he was disrespectful to you and I know that he treated you terribly on many occasions. I also know that neither of you ever talked to each other about the problems, but you both always talked to anyone else that would give you five seconds of their time. Both of you did this, and both of you still do. This is the example that was set for me and unfortunately, I have been a party to it. Well, I am not going to do that any longer.
This letter is only partly about your failed marriage. But this conflict has caused some wounds to reopen and memories to resurface that I have fought with for most of my life and I am finally going to address them, once and finally. I’ve tried to talk to you many times about some of these things, but it always turned into a useless endeavor because you would become enrages, clam up, or tell me to never mention the thing again. That never accomplished a single thing and it won’t work this time.
I do wish you well in the remainder of your years on this earth. I wish you peace, I wish you happiness, I wish you joy and I wish you good health in all areas. I wish you the ability to forgive and I wish you the ability to laugh. I wish you the ability and the means to move forward with your life, and the motivation to pursue what remains of your hopes and your dreams. I wish you the ability, the desire and the strength to overcome the obstacles and barriers that you have allowed to hold you in bondage for far too long.
But I also pray you soon realize that hate, revenge, vindictiveness, getting-even, gossiping, twisting of the truth and/or facts, and two-facedness are wrong and are NOT becoming to any Godly woman. And sadly, you have been guilty of all these things. I don’t need any rebuttals concerning how horrible my father is or justifications (aka excuses) for your behavior. You have choices in how you choose to respond to situations and circumstances in your life, and you have chosen poorly. Even worse, you have made your children, and some of your grandchildren, victims of your bad behavior.
You should not have done this. And you, the one who has always claimed to know me better than I even knew myself, should have known better. But the truth is, you’ve never known me, therefore you had no idea that there was a line, that once crossed, would unleash a fury that you really shouldn’t have awakened. I really wish you wouldn’t have been so hell-bent on hurting Daddy that you either couldn’t see, or didn’t care about anyone else.
You have claimed repeatedly that you were not going to get your children or anyone else involved and that you were too ashamed to let other people know how he was talking to you. Yet for just about my entire life I have had to listen to you tell me how bad he talked to you, how bad he treated you, his girlfriends, his infidelities, and oft times, in vivid detail. I have listened to you tell people outside our family the same things. And for the past year, not only have I heard all of the above, but so have my brothers, my sister-in-law, your family, Daddy’s extended family, close friends, neighbors and anyone else that would give you the time to talk. And with each telling of the events, they became bigger. But then, you just had to tell my daughter, even after she told you she didn’t want to hear it, you continued because you didn’t care about her feelings because your desire to hurt someone else was more important than your desire to protect your grand daughter.
You claim to be ashamed of the things that were said on the infamous tapes, and yet…Not only do you continue to expound on those tapes to anyone that will listen, even those who don’t want to, you just have to add the filth and in great detail. I am sure you do it for the shock value, but it is not nearly as shocking as it is disgusting. And I am not talking about the ‘acts’…I am talking about your habit of repeating it to those who do NOT need to hear it! In your world I guess revenge trumps decency every day of the week! If it were not so, why would you keep enlightening those who, not only want to remain in the dark, but morally should be allowed to do so?
Furthermore, it denies all sense and reason as to why you would repeatedly listen to those tapes! You listen to them once and it shocks you. You listen to them the second time to make sure that you have actually heard what you thought you heard. But by the fourth or fifth time it becomes an act of perversion to willingly listen to your spouse and another person in the throes of sexual acts! And then you tell your children of specific sexual acts you heard their father involved in? WHY? WHY do you persist in involving innocent people in this filth? Do you not see how sick and demented this is? I know that you are trying to kill any feelings your children may have for their father by telling them these detestable things, but sadly for you, at least where I am concerned, your plan backfired. While you were trying to ruin Daddy’s reputation, your own was declining as well, and for no other reason than the retelling of these damned tapes.
And do you remember the day when I told you that all of this was so hard and I shouldn’t be put in a position to choose between my mother and my daddy because I loved you both…Do you remember what you said to me? Well I do because I wrote it down. At that time you knew that I had written [*]. What you didn’t know was what I said to her and more importantly, the date that I wrote her. So, upon me telling you that I did not want to have to choose because I loved both you and Daddy, you became angry and you said that on the day Daddy went to MD Anderson, [’*’] called him and was upset about the ‘email’ that I had sent her. I asked you how you knew this and you said that she called Daddy and told him about it, (I still don’t know how you could have heard her on the phone), and that you knew that she was crying on the phone because Daddy was trying to sooth her and he kept telling her not to cry about it (the email). And then you said that he said, “Don’t pay any attention to anything she says. She’s a god damned crazy bitch just like her mother.” You told me that Daddy was referring to me.
Well, I thought about this for a while and then I called you back and asked on what date Daddy had gone to MD Anderson. After you looked on the calendar you said, “It was April the 26th. That’s the day he and [*] talked on the phone all the way there and all the way back.”
You lied to me, you lied about Daddy and I’ve known that you lied ever since the moment you gave me the date. You see, I did not write a single word to [*] until almost midnight of April 27th, 2013. I have the proof on my computer and in my files.
Consequently, the April 26th tapes have grown leaps and bounds, almost like the seed of Abraham! These recordings have evolved from simple phone calls, where Daddy was alone in the vehicle and you were only able to hear his side, to now being a sexual pleasure jaunt to and from MD Anderson with [*] and her ‘bag of sex toys’ being in the vehicle with him, and their pleasurable moans and words can be heard clearly. And, of course, this is apparently the tape you have preferred to listen to most.
I honestly question the existence of these ‘tapes’. If you have them and since you can not shut the hell up about them, produce them. If you can not, or will not produce them, then shut the hell up about them! I would rather hear the filth coming from anyone’s mouth before ever hearing it from the mouth of my mother! I would also prefer to hear EXACTLY what was said than hear your retelling of it because you simply can not always tell the truth. I know that you don’t even realize you are doing it, but by the time you get through embellishing & exaggerating any sentence, it is often rendered nothing more than a lie.
Lies. You are so good at telling them and so good at fooling so many people. I know, because you once told me (I was 15 at the time) that it was a form of power and that you had power. Of course, at the time you were speaking of the power that you hoped I would believe you had over me, but it doesn’t matter when or why you said it. Fact is, you said it then and I have watched you practice it more times than I care to remember.
You play the martyr, the victim, the poor pitiful weak abused woman to gain sympathy, to appear genuine, to garner attention and pity. And you don’t care who you hurt in the process, as long as YOU get the attention and the pity that YOU feel like you so justly deserve.
Take for instance the fact that all of your children offered and promised you support before you even left Daddy. We opened our homes to you and offered you money, as well as our love, and we continued to offer this after you left him. But what did you tell your family, your damned busy-body trifling neighbors, your friends? You have repeatedly and consistently told these people that ‘your children did not support you. You couldn’t depend on anyone for help. No one was there for you. You had no money and didn’t know how you were going to buy medicine or pay doctor bills because no one, including your children, would help you‘. Hell, you’ve even told each of your children this about their three siblings! You told my daughter this and when I raised hell about it, you tried to ‘throw her under the bus’ and you insinuated that she had lied and/or twisted your words and their meanings.
Just to be clear…When you insinuated that my child, who has grown into the most honest person I have ever known, was lying and/or twisting your words and meanings. She had begged you not to get into trashing her Pappaw or ‘the tapes’, but you persisted and then in a fit of anger, you hung up on her. When she called you back to apologize for upsetting you, when YOU were the one who was at fault for even calling her under false pretenses in the first place, and you told her that you were upset because no one in your family was supporting you, no one would help you, blah, blah, blah and then you promptly hung up on her again? Well, all of that combined was the line that you shouldn’t have crossed! If you knew ANYTHING about me you would have known that you do not hurt my children in ANY way and get by with it!
I wish that you would have just left me & my child alone. I did not want ANY further communication with you. No phone calls, no Facebook, no emails, no in person visits and no letters. I just wanted to do what I have wanted to do since I was 12 years old. I just wanted to walk away from you and never look back.
When you were good, you were the best Mother ever. But when you are bad, you are absolutely evil. There is something inside of you that is so cruel, so heartless and so cold that all I want to do is be as far away from you as I can get. Few people have ever seen it, but I have and you know I have. There have been others and you have hated them with evil intensity and spoken cruelly about them, doing everything in your power to destroy their character and name.
For most of my life I have watched you and listened to you pick at old hurts to the point where they festered. You have done no less with Daddy. And since you persist in bringing up the past and wallowing in it like a damned old sow, let us take a walk back to the past down MY little street.
What happened to my face, Momma? The doctors say that the left side of my face suffered a severe blow before the bones ‘hardened’. You say that I fell off the bed and landed on a toy that caused the injury that left the scar, but the doctors said that a baby falling off the bed and hitting the floor wouldn’t have caused the problems I have. The one time I tried to talk to you about it, you got mad and refused to talk about it. That alone makes me suspicious of you.
And do you remember the day that I accidentally wet my pants and you were so angry that you grabbed me by my left forearm, twisted it and literally carried me by my arm to the toilet where you threw me onto the seat and I fell between the toilet and the wall. You jerked me back up, slapped me and set me back on the seat. I remember it clearly and I remember that I was crying and shaking, as you screeched at me and told me how much you hated me. Later my arm, just above the wrist, swelled up and it hurt me so bad. I guess you got scared, because you loaded me and Jimmy in the car and we headed to Cleveland. But on the way you told me that I had better say that I had fallen off the commode because if I didn’t, you would kill me when we got back home. You were livid! I was in pain and I was scared to death of you. The x-rays didn’t reveal a break and the er doctor said I had a sprained arm. It was wrapped and we went home. After that, you were a bit more careful. But that was the first time I remember seeing the ‘bad’ side of you. Consequently that arm was giving me trouble years back and I had it x-rayed. Apparently the x-rays are much improved today than they were in the mid 60’s because there is a tiny line on one of the bones that signified a healed crack. Your twisting of my arm when I was a tiny little girl was the only time I had ever injured it.
When I was six, your sister came to visit with her kids and [*] put his filthy hands inside my panties and it hurt. I got away from him, went inside the house and I told you. I was so scared of him, though at the time I didn’t know why. I just knew what he did wasn’t right and it hurt. You told me to stay away from him and not to tell anyone else because you couldn’t have Aunt [*] getting mad at you. I was six years old and I knew then that I would never be able to depend on you for help. I also felt like it was my fault and I lived in fear of that piece of shit for a long time. Of course, you never did a single thing to insure that I was not near him and instead, sent me to stay in the house he lived in every time you needed a break, your nerves being so delicate and us kids being so bad and all. That bastard molested me on and off for ten damned years and you did nothing to help me, nothing to stop him. You told ME not to say a word to anyone, while YOU told anyone that would listen.
How in the hell do you think that made ME feel???
I hated myself because I knew that I wasn’t worth protecting, but I was easy fodder for your gossip sessions.
When I was 12 years old I shaved my bushy eyebrows. I hated them and was so tired of kids making fun of me because of them. One day Aunt [*] showed up and do you remember what you said when she commented about my shaved brows? You said, “She looks just like a whore.” What a hateful, mean bitch you were! I looked like a 12 year old kid who had shaved her unibrow and at that time I wasn’t sure exactly what a whore was. But I figured it out and I hated myself even more. But I was generous in my hatred because I hated you, too.
When I was 12 I ran away from home. When I was 13, I ran away again. That time I was raped by an 18 year old senior from Hardin and all because the girl I was with, and myself, wanted a safe place to spend the night. Until that night, I was a virgin. When you finally came to pick me up from jail, I stank because I had not been allowed to bath, and I was bleeding profusely. I was also ill with strep-throat and you made me go to school the next day with a temperature of 104. Of course the school called you and gave you the ‘what for’ and you took me to the doctor, but not because you wanted to.
And do you remember how you used to go into the bathroom garbage and retrieve my used sanitary napkins, closely examine them and then tell people, including my daddy and me, that you KNEW I was having sex because the blood on those pads wasn’t ‘normal’. How in the hell would YOU know what a ‘normal’ flow was for a 12 and 13 year old girl? Did you take classes in menstrual pad examination?
Do you remember how many times from the time I was 12 until well after I married Larry that you referred to me, or called me, a whore in conversations to other people? I don’t think I can count that high. Can you?
But what kind of sane person would even think about examining her daughter’s used Kotex??? And what kind of mother would gleefully tell others that her daughter was a whore that screwed everything…before her daughter was even 15 years old???
We moved to Lake Water Wheel and you said that because my Daddy was so sorry, we couldn’t have a phone. I also had my first real boyfriend and one evening he and his sister came over. You gave us permission to go to the clubhouse and told me to be home by 9:30pm. Once there, we played ping pong for a little while and then went downstairs to sit on the sofa and talk. His sister was sitting right there with us when you busted in the door and started screeching about us having sex and how I was an hour late. It wasn‘t even 8:30 and we hadn’t been gone from the house more than 45 minutes. We were all shocked and confused and even though I tried to tell you the time, you still drug me out of there. On the way home you slapped me when I tried to tell you that we weren’t doing anything wrong. You slapped me and called me a whore. You said I was a liar and that I was trash. Once home, you spanked me and sent me to my room. After dark, the boyfriend’s sister came to my window and asked if I was okay. I told them to come back later, and that night, for the first and only time, I climbed out my bedroom window and ran away. *{A note here…It has been said that I used to slip out that bedroom window all the time and my brothers heard me. I don’t know what they heard, but that is not true. I went out that window one time and one time only. If anyone would stop to remember correctly they would remember that access via that window was close to impossible, especially for a girl who didn’t climb too well. I did however sit in that window sill and smoke cigarettes all the time. But I only slipped out that window once.}* I spent the night in the care of another friend’s mother who convinced me I should return home the next day. She brought me back, but you weren’t there, so we left to go back to Shepherd and find a phone so I could call around to find you. That’s when [*] chased us down, ran the lady off the road and drug me from the car and back to her truck where she talked to me like a dog…all because of your damned lies! Back at [*]'s, there you sat, and they were making over you as if I had caused you bodily injury. You persisted that I was having sex with that boy and you KNEW it was a damned lie. But being the gullible dumb asses they were, and remain, they believed you. Then you sent me with [*] to the bedroom where he proceeded to beat me with a riding crop as he told me how sorry my daddy was and what a whoring piece of trash I was. You were so proud. I saw it in your eyes when the law walked me out of the house. The man that you had secretly had a crush on for all those years had finally beaten his brother's evil spawn and it tickled you.
Thankfully I was sent to Montgomery County jail and not Coldsprings, and the jailers there were actually kind because, after all, I wasn’t a criminal and my body had physical evidence that I had been beaten. It was actually not a bad time spent behind bars. Of course, you refused to come get me when I was released and you were angry that Uncle [*] did. You didn’t want me, but you refused to allow anyone else to take me, either. You hated me and you wanted to punish me…and for what? Because I rebelled against a damned sick lie that YOU had invented? Because you hated my Daddy and wanted to him by hurting me? Because you were jealous that I loved my Daddy? Or was it because you knew, even then, that I was stronger and tougher than you would ever be and that infuriated you?
After that, you got into that Lake Water Wheel POA/HOA fiasco and you and old [*] became great friends. I tolerated the old pedophile because he gave me cigarettes, but when he started trying to touch things that were not his to touch, I wanted nothing more to do with him. And yet, you made me ride around with him, at night, and alone. The guise was that I needed to show him the roads, which was peculiar due to him having owned his property in there longer than we had. But then you made me ride around with his oldest son that one night and I will never understand how or why you did that. He sexually assaulted me at gun point, but knowing you like I did, there was no reason to say a word. I’ve always wondered what you got from making me ride with those assholes? Did they pay you for time alone with me? Were you trying to prostitute me? Did they buy you beer? WHAT?
And during this time I tried to take my own life…You didn’t know about it, but God did. I lived because of God. It was on that particular night that I realized God really was real and He was the ONLY one I could count on.
But I still hated myself and I just did not care anymore. All you cared about were ‘appearances’ or self gratification, even at the expense of your own child. And you would take my victimizations and twist them around to be things that you felt, and convinced others, that I willingly and happily consented to. You would even tell my brothers lies that, to this day, they still believe because you said it. Yeah, lying gave you ‘power’ alright. Power over the minds of innocent and impressionable people.
I stopped caring after that. You were accusing me of things I was not doing and I finally just threw my hands up and said if I was going to be accused of it I might as well partake of it. Yes, I made those choices, but you made the choices to not protect me and to cast me in dangerous situations. By then my choices were geared toward self destruction and rebellion. You took it personally, which is hilarious looking back because you are the one who caused it all in the first place! Of course, you will NEVER accept responsibility for ANY wrong doing and you will continue to believe and tell others that I was just a bad person. Probably that I take after my Daddy, which I do.
What about my abortion? Yes, I know, you don’t want to talk about that and years ago you ordered me to never mention it again. But guess what? I no longer take or accept orders from you and I’m going to talk about it.
You knew how much I loved [*] and when he kicked me out, I was devastated. I was actually more than devastated and something broke in my mind. I cried too much and when I stopped, I was numb. Nothing made sense to me. Nothing seemed real. I tried to work things out with him and then, I found myself pregnant. When I called him to tell him, he told me that it wasn’t his and later told me, ‘You’re nothing but a whore. Your own mother says you are.” I couldn’t think. I really needed help, but all I got was… “[your ex] will take [your firstborn] if you have this baby. No judge is going to let you keep [your firstborn] if you have a bastard. You can’t support two babies. The [*]’s will take this baby if you have it.” And so on and so forth. YOU mentioned abortion and you kept on with the fear crap to the point that I finally decided to abort that baby. I didn’t want to do that, but I was so damned scared and my fear was based on your manipulation of the truth. You didn’t want me to have that baby because it would embarrass YOU. You cared not a whit about your daughter or your unborn grandchild. If you had, you would have offered me hope and love instead of shame and ridicule. You would have known that my mind was not well, but of course, you did know and this is why you kept hitting me with the fear shit. You didn’t care about the pain it caused me or how badly I wanted to end my own life afterwards. It was out of YOUR sight and out of YOUR mind and YOU were not going to have to be embarrassed. Thank God for Grandmother! She held my hand as I told her, she hugged me and she forgave me. How I wished I had talked to her instead of you!
10 months, almost to the day of the abortion, [*] was murdered. Not only was the love of my life dead, but I had to live with the fact that 10 months earlier I had murdered the only child that he would ever have fathered.
And after his murder? The Texas Ranger came out to talk to me and I told him some key information that he was not aware of and information that only I could tell him. What I told him was truth and factual, and I could have proven it all, but what did you do? When he finished his visit with me, you called him over to your job and told him that I was ‘unstable’ and ‘anything she told you is unreliable and most likely a lie‘. YOU TOLD ME YOU SAID THESE THINGS!!! You told me it was to ‘protect’ me. But what about his mother? Because of you, the information I gave him was discarded and 28 years later, his family is no closer to knowing what happened to their youngest son than the morning it happened.
When I got pregnant with [child], I waited until I was past time for an abortion before I told you and then my hell on earth begin. You wanted me to abort him and after that failed, you interviewed people to adopt MY child. When I wouldn’t tell you who the father was, you told people that I had been gang raped. You actually said this in front of brother’s high school friends, as well. I was sitting on the sofa and they were walking through the living room when you made that nasty, hateful and vulgar remark. You sat there with that cigarette in one hand, a beer in the other and you laughed. You made my life a living hell and you enjoyed every damned minute of it. You made my son’s life none the easier. It didn’t matter how much I cooked, cleaned or tried to help out, you treated me like shit and called it ‘tough love’. Well, you and I both know that you were tough, but there was not an ounce of love anywhere in it!
After [chilc] was born and we moved to Rayburn, my brother brought new wife in and I met her for the first time. She and I spent a wonderful day in Houston shopping and we were supposed to spend the next day at Dolen for a cookout and family get-together, but no one ever showed up to give us a ride out there. You didn’t care how much that hurt me because you didn’t want she and I to be friends. On the morning before they left, I think it was a brother who came and picked us up to say good bye before brother& sister-in-law left. But once there, sister-in-law attacked me by clawing at my face and telling me that I was a lying bitch. Come to find out it was because YOU had told her that I had said some awful things about her, plus you told her plenty about how bad I was. From that day on, she hated me and all because of your lies! What neither of you seemed to think about was that there was no way I could have said those things on Friday night after our shopping trip because I didn’t have a damned phone and I had not seen you since Friday morning before she and I headed to Houston.
And what about the shit that you told my husband's aunt & uncle right before we were married? To this day, 26 years later, I can not have a decent relationship with his family because you ran me down to those people and because I was so bad, they felt obligated to ‘share’ with his family in hopes of warning them of the horrific person you said I was.
Gee, Mother. What a wonderful mother you have been!
And all these infidelities that you accuse Daddy of? What about your own?
Remember ‘The Club’ on Shraderville Road? How many nights did you put the boys to bed, then go in and shower, put make-up on, dress up and tell me, ‘I think I’m going to go over to the club for a little bit. My nerves are bad and I need to get out. Watch the boys if they wake up. I’ll be back in a few hours.’ And how many night did you ever get back in ‘just’ a little bit? I’m almost positive it was ZERO! You would stay there until it shut down, or until you did whatever it was you were doing. You would take your ‘cards’ and tell ‘fortunes’, and sometimes men would follow you home. I remember 2 men who followed you home one morning as the sun was just rising and I was waking my brothers up for school. I would go to Shepherd and have boys I went to school with, a few I even dated, tell me about your ‘escapades’ at ‘The Club’. And, yes, those ‘escapades’ were of a sexual nature. Do you know that I even had boys I dated and went to school with once ask me, “Do you put out like your mother does?”
And you have the gall to say that anything I ever did embarrassed YOU???
Along about this time, as I was plundering through the house one day looking for cigarettes, I opened your nightstand; not Daddy’s, but your’s, and I found a stack of polaroids. Of you. Nude, and having and performing sexual acts. What disgusted me most was not so much the fact that they existed, but the fact that you had never failed to tell me how sickening sex was, how you never liked it, and any woman who did was ‘crude’ and a whore. Yet in all of those pornographic photos you were smiling and looked quiet happy doing what you were doing. There were so many photos in that stack that I guess you wouldn’t have known if a few were missing. At any rate, that little ‘find’ broke me of plundering in my parent’s room for cigarettes.
Of all of the ugly, trashy things that you ever accused me of, I have NEVER had a nude photo taken, nor any photo of myself in, or performing, any sexual act. And I really don’t care if the people in the photos were married or not, those photos should not have been in the house with four kids running around. In my opinion, no decent woman would ever allow herself to be photographed in those situations.
It just seems peculiar to me, and others, that on one hand you portray yourself as a stiff-necked prude and yet, you have always been stuck on these ‘sex’ issues! Nasty, filthy, crude, disgusting sex. Of course, you don’t mind talking about the nastier parts of it and frequently so. It is as if you are the one with the perverted sexual spirit since you are the one who just so happens to ‘catch’ others in these ‘acts’, sometimes when they aren’t even in the acts and at those times, you make shit up and call it fact. But in your mind, if you say it enough, it’s supposed to be so because you say so?
And what about the crap you told your sisters about me? All these years and one thinks I’m some sort of sexual pervert, with full knowledge of all sexual acts and practices, another thinks I once had drug & alcohol problems, and another was told not to ever believe anything I said because I could never to tell the truth about anything. LIES! Hurtful, cruel LIES! And for what purpose? Why would you do that to me? God only knows what you told Daddy’s sisters & sister-in-laws. Oh, wait! I already know what you told Tommy’s family and to this day they look down their sanctimonious noses at me and have nothing to do with me because of shit YOU said about me!
And what about my brothers? How many lies did you tell them, or gossip did you repeat in front of them, about me? Of course they are gentlemen, and they actually know me a tiny bit better than you, so they aren’t going to tell me what you probably said. But the fact that they think things about me based on shit you made up?
I just find it a terrible shame that you created division within our family years ago and you have continued doing so even till this day. You are everyone’s best friend and confidant until they walk away or have their backs turned, then you pull out the biggest knife you can find and stab away. You call one and tell them that you haven’t told anyone else about this or that, and order them to not tell another soul, and then you walk away and head to the next kid where you repeat the same story, word for word. When it’s all said and done, everyone knows your ‘secrets’ and we each think we’re the only ones you trusted enough to tell, we don’t say a word to the other siblings because we, unlike you, do not want to betray a trust… and your twisted little game of manipulation & control remains intact as you sit on your throne and smile because once again, you’ve played us like chess pieces!
What the hell kind of game is that? What gives you the right to manipulate people like this? What kind of thrill are you getting from it? Worse yet is when you tell one of your children that another one of your children has said something ‘mean’ about them when they really didn’t, or you twist around what they did say to the point it is nowhere near what it was originally intended to say.
You say that people twist what they hear? Well, you should know because you are the master of twisting what others say.
Answer me this…How do you sleep at night? Oh, wait a minute. I remember now…You drink! You drink A LOT!
I remember that you used to not start drinking before 6pm, but I’ve recently been informed you now start around noon. For years you have claimed that you drink because it helped you deal with Daddy. I’m sure that you drank when I was a teen because it helped you deal with me. If you outlive Daddy, your excuse will be that you drink to deal with your sisters, or your unsupportive children, or your lying granddaughter, or your angry bowels.
Why don’t you just face facts and admit that you are an alcoholic! You drink because you have to drink. You drink because you like to drink. You drink because your family doesn’t approve of the amount you drink and you are going to ‘show them’ that you can do whatever you want . You drink because it’s bad for you and if it makes you sick, you can gain more sympathy because you are ill. And you drink because of all of the demons that you keep safely tucked away & hidden. Their screams and cries drive you to the brink of insanity and you drink for the numbness it offers because you know, nothing will ever silence them!
Well now, you have another reason to drink…This letter!
Frame this bitch and keep it where you can read it every single day so that you can stay mad, show everyone what a victim you are and plot your revenge on me.
And your cigarettes…Dear God, do you seriously NOT know how bad they make you smell? Forget that they can lead to emphysema, lung cancer, stomach cancer, throat cancer and mouth cancer, etc., they STINK and sadly, so do you! Does that not bother you? And when you were with Daddy and the doctors told him, and all of us, that he could not be around cigarette smoke, what did you do? You smoked more and you smoked in the house with him. So don’t tell me how cruel he was to you when I know that you were just as culpable in the cruelty within that house. You thought us kids bossy and mean if we said anything and you always made out like we were being mean to & picking on you. Well, it wasn’t about you! Our father lived in that house, too, and you were hateful, spiteful and mean to continue doing something around him that doctors had strongly advised against. You KNEW it could negatively effect his health and that is exactly why you did it.
And as for telling everyone how scared you were of him? If you were fearful of him it was either because you had created that in your own mind, or you knew that your bullshit had finally pushed him too far. But I don’t believe you were ever afraid of him. In fact, your own actions prove that you were not. A woman who fears for her safety does not intentionally put herself in the vicinity of the man she fears. She does everything in her power to keep away from him and you have not done that because you know that you made it all up.
Again, truly wonder if there are any tapes. You keep saying how bad they are and how you would never want your children to hear them, and yet you can’s stop telling people every nasty, filthy perverted detail. Of course, the contents of these tapes just grows in leaps and bounds, with every retelling of the contents. Well, this boggles my mind because with the reputation you gave me in regards to sex, I should be surprised at nothing. And after seeing photos of my mother performing sexual acts on a man when I was 15, my mind is pretty much numbed when it comes to these acts and I’m pretty sure my ears won’t be any more tender.
But you know what, where you are concerned, I really don’t give a shit anymore. You no longer have any control or power over me. You have manipulated me for the last time and I have no more chances to give you.
All those years ago, you could have stopped Wayne from hurting me, but you chose your adult sister over your innocent child. I was 6. SIX! I was an innocent BABY!
Because of you, I killed a child that to this very day, I grieve for. You could have stopped me. You could have offered me love and forgiveness, but most importantly, Godly hope. But you didn’t. You wouldn’t. All you offered was shame, embarrassment, fear and hopelessness.
You have said, with each of my pregnancies, including Abby, “You did this to hurt me! You got pregnant just to embarrass me.” Well, I can assure you that the LAST thing I was thinking about when I committed the acts that led to conception was YOU! I was looking for comfort and love, acceptance and a gentle touch. If you would have given these things to me decently, I probably wouldn’t have had to resort to finding them immorally.
And finally, the first time a man commits adultery, a wife can forgive him. The second time he does it, the wife should take measures against him. But by the fourth or fifth or twentieth time, either the wife accepts the behavior and resigns herself to look the other way, or she somehow takes some sick, wicked, perverted pleasure in the act and/or she takes pleasure in avenging herself in word, action or deed.
Your ‘I’m weak’ argument holds no water and I resent the fact that you think I am so stupid as to buy it. The ‘I had 4 kids to support and couldn’t do it alone’ argument is just as empty. What would you had done had he died at 40? Give us all away, or figure out a way to make it just like thousands upon thousands of other women have done?
You stayed because you wanted to stay and you keep tabs on him and stalk him because you not only don’t want to let him go, but you want to get revenge on him. It is what you live for. Your guiding force in life. To hurt and destroy. You want to make him miserable. You want to hurt him. You want to punish him for shit that happened 40 years ago, and I know this because as much as you hate to admit it, this letter is the YOU IN ME. The only difference is, once I sign this letter and stick it in the mailbox, I’m done and I’m letting it go.
I tried. I made mistakes, I was a problem, I had problems, but I tried to do better and I tried to make amends. You saw my good intentions as weaknesses and you tried to use these weaknesses against me and to your twisted advantage. But I’m nowhere near weak and I am stronger than you OR Daddy have ever been, or will ever be. I am sorry that you never really knew me, nor will you ever.
But, I forgive you 100%. I have to because I love myself. I thank you for giving me life, for teaching me about God and when you were good, for being the best momma ever. But I will no longer allow you to pick at the scars, reopen the wounds and dig away until the pain is too great to bear. And as long as we communicate, you will and I have to stop it once and for all.
You’ve always said that you didn’t like girls and as a girl, I knew that your words were true. Well, I’m making your dream come true now and I am aborting myself from your life so that now, all you’ll have left are the boys that you have always loved so dearly.
Do not contact me ever again. I have nothing left to say to you and I want nothing more to do with you and you no longer have to lie about this. You will NOT receive ANY support from me EVER again.
I don’t have to run anymore. I am finally where I’ve always wanted and needed to be. I am away from you.
May God heal you and care for you.
*Since this letter is now public, please be careful how you and those you share it with retell it.
Dear Mother,
I do not know where to begin, so I will start with the general topics.
I hope that your health is improving.
I am glad to hear that [*] is doing well and my thoughts and prayers are with him.
I received your letter and the copies of the communications between you and Daddy. They were not necessary, but I thank you, all the same.
Now to the specifics.
Let me get Daddy out of the way right now. I write this letter to you and not to him, therefore I will try to address issues only pertaining to you. Anything I have to say to and about him, I will say to him.
I know that he was an ass to you, I know that he was disrespectful to you and I know that he treated you terribly on many occasions. I also know that neither of you ever talked to each other about the problems, but you both always talked to anyone else that would give you five seconds of their time. Both of you did this, and both of you still do. This is the example that was set for me and unfortunately, I have been a party to it. Well, I am not going to do that any longer.
This letter is only partly about your failed marriage. But this conflict has caused some wounds to reopen and memories to resurface that I have fought with for most of my life and I am finally going to address them, once and finally. I’ve tried to talk to you many times about some of these things, but it always turned into a useless endeavor because you would become enrages, clam up, or tell me to never mention the thing again. That never accomplished a single thing and it won’t work this time.
I do wish you well in the remainder of your years on this earth. I wish you peace, I wish you happiness, I wish you joy and I wish you good health in all areas. I wish you the ability to forgive and I wish you the ability to laugh. I wish you the ability and the means to move forward with your life, and the motivation to pursue what remains of your hopes and your dreams. I wish you the ability, the desire and the strength to overcome the obstacles and barriers that you have allowed to hold you in bondage for far too long.
But I also pray you soon realize that hate, revenge, vindictiveness, getting-even, gossiping, twisting of the truth and/or facts, and two-facedness are wrong and are NOT becoming to any Godly woman. And sadly, you have been guilty of all these things. I don’t need any rebuttals concerning how horrible my father is or justifications (aka excuses) for your behavior. You have choices in how you choose to respond to situations and circumstances in your life, and you have chosen poorly. Even worse, you have made your children, and some of your grandchildren, victims of your bad behavior.
You should not have done this. And you, the one who has always claimed to know me better than I even knew myself, should have known better. But the truth is, you’ve never known me, therefore you had no idea that there was a line, that once crossed, would unleash a fury that you really shouldn’t have awakened. I really wish you wouldn’t have been so hell-bent on hurting Daddy that you either couldn’t see, or didn’t care about anyone else.
You have claimed repeatedly that you were not going to get your children or anyone else involved and that you were too ashamed to let other people know how he was talking to you. Yet for just about my entire life I have had to listen to you tell me how bad he talked to you, how bad he treated you, his girlfriends, his infidelities, and oft times, in vivid detail. I have listened to you tell people outside our family the same things. And for the past year, not only have I heard all of the above, but so have my brothers, my sister-in-law, your family, Daddy’s extended family, close friends, neighbors and anyone else that would give you the time to talk. And with each telling of the events, they became bigger. But then, you just had to tell my daughter, even after she told you she didn’t want to hear it, you continued because you didn’t care about her feelings because your desire to hurt someone else was more important than your desire to protect your grand daughter.
You claim to be ashamed of the things that were said on the infamous tapes, and yet…Not only do you continue to expound on those tapes to anyone that will listen, even those who don’t want to, you just have to add the filth and in great detail. I am sure you do it for the shock value, but it is not nearly as shocking as it is disgusting. And I am not talking about the ‘acts’…I am talking about your habit of repeating it to those who do NOT need to hear it! In your world I guess revenge trumps decency every day of the week! If it were not so, why would you keep enlightening those who, not only want to remain in the dark, but morally should be allowed to do so?
Furthermore, it denies all sense and reason as to why you would repeatedly listen to those tapes! You listen to them once and it shocks you. You listen to them the second time to make sure that you have actually heard what you thought you heard. But by the fourth or fifth time it becomes an act of perversion to willingly listen to your spouse and another person in the throes of sexual acts! And then you tell your children of specific sexual acts you heard their father involved in? WHY? WHY do you persist in involving innocent people in this filth? Do you not see how sick and demented this is? I know that you are trying to kill any feelings your children may have for their father by telling them these detestable things, but sadly for you, at least where I am concerned, your plan backfired. While you were trying to ruin Daddy’s reputation, your own was declining as well, and for no other reason than the retelling of these damned tapes.
And do you remember the day when I told you that all of this was so hard and I shouldn’t be put in a position to choose between my mother and my daddy because I loved you both…Do you remember what you said to me? Well I do because I wrote it down. At that time you knew that I had written [*]. What you didn’t know was what I said to her and more importantly, the date that I wrote her. So, upon me telling you that I did not want to have to choose because I loved both you and Daddy, you became angry and you said that on the day Daddy went to MD Anderson, [’*’] called him and was upset about the ‘email’ that I had sent her. I asked you how you knew this and you said that she called Daddy and told him about it, (I still don’t know how you could have heard her on the phone), and that you knew that she was crying on the phone because Daddy was trying to sooth her and he kept telling her not to cry about it (the email). And then you said that he said, “Don’t pay any attention to anything she says. She’s a god damned crazy bitch just like her mother.” You told me that Daddy was referring to me.
Well, I thought about this for a while and then I called you back and asked on what date Daddy had gone to MD Anderson. After you looked on the calendar you said, “It was April the 26th. That’s the day he and [*] talked on the phone all the way there and all the way back.”
You lied to me, you lied about Daddy and I’ve known that you lied ever since the moment you gave me the date. You see, I did not write a single word to [*] until almost midnight of April 27th, 2013. I have the proof on my computer and in my files.
Consequently, the April 26th tapes have grown leaps and bounds, almost like the seed of Abraham! These recordings have evolved from simple phone calls, where Daddy was alone in the vehicle and you were only able to hear his side, to now being a sexual pleasure jaunt to and from MD Anderson with [*] and her ‘bag of sex toys’ being in the vehicle with him, and their pleasurable moans and words can be heard clearly. And, of course, this is apparently the tape you have preferred to listen to most.
I honestly question the existence of these ‘tapes’. If you have them and since you can not shut the hell up about them, produce them. If you can not, or will not produce them, then shut the hell up about them! I would rather hear the filth coming from anyone’s mouth before ever hearing it from the mouth of my mother! I would also prefer to hear EXACTLY what was said than hear your retelling of it because you simply can not always tell the truth. I know that you don’t even realize you are doing it, but by the time you get through embellishing & exaggerating any sentence, it is often rendered nothing more than a lie.
Lies. You are so good at telling them and so good at fooling so many people. I know, because you once told me (I was 15 at the time) that it was a form of power and that you had power. Of course, at the time you were speaking of the power that you hoped I would believe you had over me, but it doesn’t matter when or why you said it. Fact is, you said it then and I have watched you practice it more times than I care to remember.
You play the martyr, the victim, the poor pitiful weak abused woman to gain sympathy, to appear genuine, to garner attention and pity. And you don’t care who you hurt in the process, as long as YOU get the attention and the pity that YOU feel like you so justly deserve.
Take for instance the fact that all of your children offered and promised you support before you even left Daddy. We opened our homes to you and offered you money, as well as our love, and we continued to offer this after you left him. But what did you tell your family, your damned busy-body trifling neighbors, your friends? You have repeatedly and consistently told these people that ‘your children did not support you. You couldn’t depend on anyone for help. No one was there for you. You had no money and didn’t know how you were going to buy medicine or pay doctor bills because no one, including your children, would help you‘. Hell, you’ve even told each of your children this about their three siblings! You told my daughter this and when I raised hell about it, you tried to ‘throw her under the bus’ and you insinuated that she had lied and/or twisted your words and their meanings.
Just to be clear…When you insinuated that my child, who has grown into the most honest person I have ever known, was lying and/or twisting your words and meanings. She had begged you not to get into trashing her Pappaw or ‘the tapes’, but you persisted and then in a fit of anger, you hung up on her. When she called you back to apologize for upsetting you, when YOU were the one who was at fault for even calling her under false pretenses in the first place, and you told her that you were upset because no one in your family was supporting you, no one would help you, blah, blah, blah and then you promptly hung up on her again? Well, all of that combined was the line that you shouldn’t have crossed! If you knew ANYTHING about me you would have known that you do not hurt my children in ANY way and get by with it!
I wish that you would have just left me & my child alone. I did not want ANY further communication with you. No phone calls, no Facebook, no emails, no in person visits and no letters. I just wanted to do what I have wanted to do since I was 12 years old. I just wanted to walk away from you and never look back.
When you were good, you were the best Mother ever. But when you are bad, you are absolutely evil. There is something inside of you that is so cruel, so heartless and so cold that all I want to do is be as far away from you as I can get. Few people have ever seen it, but I have and you know I have. There have been others and you have hated them with evil intensity and spoken cruelly about them, doing everything in your power to destroy their character and name.
For most of my life I have watched you and listened to you pick at old hurts to the point where they festered. You have done no less with Daddy. And since you persist in bringing up the past and wallowing in it like a damned old sow, let us take a walk back to the past down MY little street.
What happened to my face, Momma? The doctors say that the left side of my face suffered a severe blow before the bones ‘hardened’. You say that I fell off the bed and landed on a toy that caused the injury that left the scar, but the doctors said that a baby falling off the bed and hitting the floor wouldn’t have caused the problems I have. The one time I tried to talk to you about it, you got mad and refused to talk about it. That alone makes me suspicious of you.
And do you remember the day that I accidentally wet my pants and you were so angry that you grabbed me by my left forearm, twisted it and literally carried me by my arm to the toilet where you threw me onto the seat and I fell between the toilet and the wall. You jerked me back up, slapped me and set me back on the seat. I remember it clearly and I remember that I was crying and shaking, as you screeched at me and told me how much you hated me. Later my arm, just above the wrist, swelled up and it hurt me so bad. I guess you got scared, because you loaded me and Jimmy in the car and we headed to Cleveland. But on the way you told me that I had better say that I had fallen off the commode because if I didn’t, you would kill me when we got back home. You were livid! I was in pain and I was scared to death of you. The x-rays didn’t reveal a break and the er doctor said I had a sprained arm. It was wrapped and we went home. After that, you were a bit more careful. But that was the first time I remember seeing the ‘bad’ side of you. Consequently that arm was giving me trouble years back and I had it x-rayed. Apparently the x-rays are much improved today than they were in the mid 60’s because there is a tiny line on one of the bones that signified a healed crack. Your twisting of my arm when I was a tiny little girl was the only time I had ever injured it.
When I was six, your sister came to visit with her kids and [*] put his filthy hands inside my panties and it hurt. I got away from him, went inside the house and I told you. I was so scared of him, though at the time I didn’t know why. I just knew what he did wasn’t right and it hurt. You told me to stay away from him and not to tell anyone else because you couldn’t have Aunt [*] getting mad at you. I was six years old and I knew then that I would never be able to depend on you for help. I also felt like it was my fault and I lived in fear of that piece of shit for a long time. Of course, you never did a single thing to insure that I was not near him and instead, sent me to stay in the house he lived in every time you needed a break, your nerves being so delicate and us kids being so bad and all. That bastard molested me on and off for ten damned years and you did nothing to help me, nothing to stop him. You told ME not to say a word to anyone, while YOU told anyone that would listen.
How in the hell do you think that made ME feel???
I hated myself because I knew that I wasn’t worth protecting, but I was easy fodder for your gossip sessions.
When I was 12 years old I shaved my bushy eyebrows. I hated them and was so tired of kids making fun of me because of them. One day Aunt [*] showed up and do you remember what you said when she commented about my shaved brows? You said, “She looks just like a whore.” What a hateful, mean bitch you were! I looked like a 12 year old kid who had shaved her unibrow and at that time I wasn’t sure exactly what a whore was. But I figured it out and I hated myself even more. But I was generous in my hatred because I hated you, too.
When I was 12 I ran away from home. When I was 13, I ran away again. That time I was raped by an 18 year old senior from Hardin and all because the girl I was with, and myself, wanted a safe place to spend the night. Until that night, I was a virgin. When you finally came to pick me up from jail, I stank because I had not been allowed to bath, and I was bleeding profusely. I was also ill with strep-throat and you made me go to school the next day with a temperature of 104. Of course the school called you and gave you the ‘what for’ and you took me to the doctor, but not because you wanted to.
And do you remember how you used to go into the bathroom garbage and retrieve my used sanitary napkins, closely examine them and then tell people, including my daddy and me, that you KNEW I was having sex because the blood on those pads wasn’t ‘normal’. How in the hell would YOU know what a ‘normal’ flow was for a 12 and 13 year old girl? Did you take classes in menstrual pad examination?
Do you remember how many times from the time I was 12 until well after I married Larry that you referred to me, or called me, a whore in conversations to other people? I don’t think I can count that high. Can you?
But what kind of sane person would even think about examining her daughter’s used Kotex??? And what kind of mother would gleefully tell others that her daughter was a whore that screwed everything…before her daughter was even 15 years old???
We moved to Lake Water Wheel and you said that because my Daddy was so sorry, we couldn’t have a phone. I also had my first real boyfriend and one evening he and his sister came over. You gave us permission to go to the clubhouse and told me to be home by 9:30pm. Once there, we played ping pong for a little while and then went downstairs to sit on the sofa and talk. His sister was sitting right there with us when you busted in the door and started screeching about us having sex and how I was an hour late. It wasn‘t even 8:30 and we hadn’t been gone from the house more than 45 minutes. We were all shocked and confused and even though I tried to tell you the time, you still drug me out of there. On the way home you slapped me when I tried to tell you that we weren’t doing anything wrong. You slapped me and called me a whore. You said I was a liar and that I was trash. Once home, you spanked me and sent me to my room. After dark, the boyfriend’s sister came to my window and asked if I was okay. I told them to come back later, and that night, for the first and only time, I climbed out my bedroom window and ran away. *{A note here…It has been said that I used to slip out that bedroom window all the time and my brothers heard me. I don’t know what they heard, but that is not true. I went out that window one time and one time only. If anyone would stop to remember correctly they would remember that access via that window was close to impossible, especially for a girl who didn’t climb too well. I did however sit in that window sill and smoke cigarettes all the time. But I only slipped out that window once.}* I spent the night in the care of another friend’s mother who convinced me I should return home the next day. She brought me back, but you weren’t there, so we left to go back to Shepherd and find a phone so I could call around to find you. That’s when [*] chased us down, ran the lady off the road and drug me from the car and back to her truck where she talked to me like a dog…all because of your damned lies! Back at [*]'s, there you sat, and they were making over you as if I had caused you bodily injury. You persisted that I was having sex with that boy and you KNEW it was a damned lie. But being the gullible dumb asses they were, and remain, they believed you. Then you sent me with [*] to the bedroom where he proceeded to beat me with a riding crop as he told me how sorry my daddy was and what a whoring piece of trash I was. You were so proud. I saw it in your eyes when the law walked me out of the house. The man that you had secretly had a crush on for all those years had finally beaten his brother's evil spawn and it tickled you.
Thankfully I was sent to Montgomery County jail and not Coldsprings, and the jailers there were actually kind because, after all, I wasn’t a criminal and my body had physical evidence that I had been beaten. It was actually not a bad time spent behind bars. Of course, you refused to come get me when I was released and you were angry that Uncle [*] did. You didn’t want me, but you refused to allow anyone else to take me, either. You hated me and you wanted to punish me…and for what? Because I rebelled against a damned sick lie that YOU had invented? Because you hated my Daddy and wanted to him by hurting me? Because you were jealous that I loved my Daddy? Or was it because you knew, even then, that I was stronger and tougher than you would ever be and that infuriated you?
After that, you got into that Lake Water Wheel POA/HOA fiasco and you and old [*] became great friends. I tolerated the old pedophile because he gave me cigarettes, but when he started trying to touch things that were not his to touch, I wanted nothing more to do with him. And yet, you made me ride around with him, at night, and alone. The guise was that I needed to show him the roads, which was peculiar due to him having owned his property in there longer than we had. But then you made me ride around with his oldest son that one night and I will never understand how or why you did that. He sexually assaulted me at gun point, but knowing you like I did, there was no reason to say a word. I’ve always wondered what you got from making me ride with those assholes? Did they pay you for time alone with me? Were you trying to prostitute me? Did they buy you beer? WHAT?
And during this time I tried to take my own life…You didn’t know about it, but God did. I lived because of God. It was on that particular night that I realized God really was real and He was the ONLY one I could count on.
But I still hated myself and I just did not care anymore. All you cared about were ‘appearances’ or self gratification, even at the expense of your own child. And you would take my victimizations and twist them around to be things that you felt, and convinced others, that I willingly and happily consented to. You would even tell my brothers lies that, to this day, they still believe because you said it. Yeah, lying gave you ‘power’ alright. Power over the minds of innocent and impressionable people.
I stopped caring after that. You were accusing me of things I was not doing and I finally just threw my hands up and said if I was going to be accused of it I might as well partake of it. Yes, I made those choices, but you made the choices to not protect me and to cast me in dangerous situations. By then my choices were geared toward self destruction and rebellion. You took it personally, which is hilarious looking back because you are the one who caused it all in the first place! Of course, you will NEVER accept responsibility for ANY wrong doing and you will continue to believe and tell others that I was just a bad person. Probably that I take after my Daddy, which I do.
What about my abortion? Yes, I know, you don’t want to talk about that and years ago you ordered me to never mention it again. But guess what? I no longer take or accept orders from you and I’m going to talk about it.
You knew how much I loved [*] and when he kicked me out, I was devastated. I was actually more than devastated and something broke in my mind. I cried too much and when I stopped, I was numb. Nothing made sense to me. Nothing seemed real. I tried to work things out with him and then, I found myself pregnant. When I called him to tell him, he told me that it wasn’t his and later told me, ‘You’re nothing but a whore. Your own mother says you are.” I couldn’t think. I really needed help, but all I got was… “[your ex] will take [your firstborn] if you have this baby. No judge is going to let you keep [your firstborn] if you have a bastard. You can’t support two babies. The [*]’s will take this baby if you have it.” And so on and so forth. YOU mentioned abortion and you kept on with the fear crap to the point that I finally decided to abort that baby. I didn’t want to do that, but I was so damned scared and my fear was based on your manipulation of the truth. You didn’t want me to have that baby because it would embarrass YOU. You cared not a whit about your daughter or your unborn grandchild. If you had, you would have offered me hope and love instead of shame and ridicule. You would have known that my mind was not well, but of course, you did know and this is why you kept hitting me with the fear shit. You didn’t care about the pain it caused me or how badly I wanted to end my own life afterwards. It was out of YOUR sight and out of YOUR mind and YOU were not going to have to be embarrassed. Thank God for Grandmother! She held my hand as I told her, she hugged me and she forgave me. How I wished I had talked to her instead of you!
10 months, almost to the day of the abortion, [*] was murdered. Not only was the love of my life dead, but I had to live with the fact that 10 months earlier I had murdered the only child that he would ever have fathered.
And after his murder? The Texas Ranger came out to talk to me and I told him some key information that he was not aware of and information that only I could tell him. What I told him was truth and factual, and I could have proven it all, but what did you do? When he finished his visit with me, you called him over to your job and told him that I was ‘unstable’ and ‘anything she told you is unreliable and most likely a lie‘. YOU TOLD ME YOU SAID THESE THINGS!!! You told me it was to ‘protect’ me. But what about his mother? Because of you, the information I gave him was discarded and 28 years later, his family is no closer to knowing what happened to their youngest son than the morning it happened.
When I got pregnant with [child], I waited until I was past time for an abortion before I told you and then my hell on earth begin. You wanted me to abort him and after that failed, you interviewed people to adopt MY child. When I wouldn’t tell you who the father was, you told people that I had been gang raped. You actually said this in front of brother’s high school friends, as well. I was sitting on the sofa and they were walking through the living room when you made that nasty, hateful and vulgar remark. You sat there with that cigarette in one hand, a beer in the other and you laughed. You made my life a living hell and you enjoyed every damned minute of it. You made my son’s life none the easier. It didn’t matter how much I cooked, cleaned or tried to help out, you treated me like shit and called it ‘tough love’. Well, you and I both know that you were tough, but there was not an ounce of love anywhere in it!
After [chilc] was born and we moved to Rayburn, my brother brought new wife in and I met her for the first time. She and I spent a wonderful day in Houston shopping and we were supposed to spend the next day at Dolen for a cookout and family get-together, but no one ever showed up to give us a ride out there. You didn’t care how much that hurt me because you didn’t want she and I to be friends. On the morning before they left, I think it was a brother who came and picked us up to say good bye before brother& sister-in-law left. But once there, sister-in-law attacked me by clawing at my face and telling me that I was a lying bitch. Come to find out it was because YOU had told her that I had said some awful things about her, plus you told her plenty about how bad I was. From that day on, she hated me and all because of your lies! What neither of you seemed to think about was that there was no way I could have said those things on Friday night after our shopping trip because I didn’t have a damned phone and I had not seen you since Friday morning before she and I headed to Houston.
And what about the shit that you told my husband's aunt & uncle right before we were married? To this day, 26 years later, I can not have a decent relationship with his family because you ran me down to those people and because I was so bad, they felt obligated to ‘share’ with his family in hopes of warning them of the horrific person you said I was.
Gee, Mother. What a wonderful mother you have been!
And all these infidelities that you accuse Daddy of? What about your own?
Remember ‘The Club’ on Shraderville Road? How many nights did you put the boys to bed, then go in and shower, put make-up on, dress up and tell me, ‘I think I’m going to go over to the club for a little bit. My nerves are bad and I need to get out. Watch the boys if they wake up. I’ll be back in a few hours.’ And how many night did you ever get back in ‘just’ a little bit? I’m almost positive it was ZERO! You would stay there until it shut down, or until you did whatever it was you were doing. You would take your ‘cards’ and tell ‘fortunes’, and sometimes men would follow you home. I remember 2 men who followed you home one morning as the sun was just rising and I was waking my brothers up for school. I would go to Shepherd and have boys I went to school with, a few I even dated, tell me about your ‘escapades’ at ‘The Club’. And, yes, those ‘escapades’ were of a sexual nature. Do you know that I even had boys I dated and went to school with once ask me, “Do you put out like your mother does?”
And you have the gall to say that anything I ever did embarrassed YOU???
Along about this time, as I was plundering through the house one day looking for cigarettes, I opened your nightstand; not Daddy’s, but your’s, and I found a stack of polaroids. Of you. Nude, and having and performing sexual acts. What disgusted me most was not so much the fact that they existed, but the fact that you had never failed to tell me how sickening sex was, how you never liked it, and any woman who did was ‘crude’ and a whore. Yet in all of those pornographic photos you were smiling and looked quiet happy doing what you were doing. There were so many photos in that stack that I guess you wouldn’t have known if a few were missing. At any rate, that little ‘find’ broke me of plundering in my parent’s room for cigarettes.
Of all of the ugly, trashy things that you ever accused me of, I have NEVER had a nude photo taken, nor any photo of myself in, or performing, any sexual act. And I really don’t care if the people in the photos were married or not, those photos should not have been in the house with four kids running around. In my opinion, no decent woman would ever allow herself to be photographed in those situations.
It just seems peculiar to me, and others, that on one hand you portray yourself as a stiff-necked prude and yet, you have always been stuck on these ‘sex’ issues! Nasty, filthy, crude, disgusting sex. Of course, you don’t mind talking about the nastier parts of it and frequently so. It is as if you are the one with the perverted sexual spirit since you are the one who just so happens to ‘catch’ others in these ‘acts’, sometimes when they aren’t even in the acts and at those times, you make shit up and call it fact. But in your mind, if you say it enough, it’s supposed to be so because you say so?
And what about the crap you told your sisters about me? All these years and one thinks I’m some sort of sexual pervert, with full knowledge of all sexual acts and practices, another thinks I once had drug & alcohol problems, and another was told not to ever believe anything I said because I could never to tell the truth about anything. LIES! Hurtful, cruel LIES! And for what purpose? Why would you do that to me? God only knows what you told Daddy’s sisters & sister-in-laws. Oh, wait! I already know what you told Tommy’s family and to this day they look down their sanctimonious noses at me and have nothing to do with me because of shit YOU said about me!
And what about my brothers? How many lies did you tell them, or gossip did you repeat in front of them, about me? Of course they are gentlemen, and they actually know me a tiny bit better than you, so they aren’t going to tell me what you probably said. But the fact that they think things about me based on shit you made up?
I just find it a terrible shame that you created division within our family years ago and you have continued doing so even till this day. You are everyone’s best friend and confidant until they walk away or have their backs turned, then you pull out the biggest knife you can find and stab away. You call one and tell them that you haven’t told anyone else about this or that, and order them to not tell another soul, and then you walk away and head to the next kid where you repeat the same story, word for word. When it’s all said and done, everyone knows your ‘secrets’ and we each think we’re the only ones you trusted enough to tell, we don’t say a word to the other siblings because we, unlike you, do not want to betray a trust… and your twisted little game of manipulation & control remains intact as you sit on your throne and smile because once again, you’ve played us like chess pieces!
What the hell kind of game is that? What gives you the right to manipulate people like this? What kind of thrill are you getting from it? Worse yet is when you tell one of your children that another one of your children has said something ‘mean’ about them when they really didn’t, or you twist around what they did say to the point it is nowhere near what it was originally intended to say.
You say that people twist what they hear? Well, you should know because you are the master of twisting what others say.
Answer me this…How do you sleep at night? Oh, wait a minute. I remember now…You drink! You drink A LOT!
I remember that you used to not start drinking before 6pm, but I’ve recently been informed you now start around noon. For years you have claimed that you drink because it helped you deal with Daddy. I’m sure that you drank when I was a teen because it helped you deal with me. If you outlive Daddy, your excuse will be that you drink to deal with your sisters, or your unsupportive children, or your lying granddaughter, or your angry bowels.
Why don’t you just face facts and admit that you are an alcoholic! You drink because you have to drink. You drink because you like to drink. You drink because your family doesn’t approve of the amount you drink and you are going to ‘show them’ that you can do whatever you want . You drink because it’s bad for you and if it makes you sick, you can gain more sympathy because you are ill. And you drink because of all of the demons that you keep safely tucked away & hidden. Their screams and cries drive you to the brink of insanity and you drink for the numbness it offers because you know, nothing will ever silence them!
Well now, you have another reason to drink…This letter!
Frame this bitch and keep it where you can read it every single day so that you can stay mad, show everyone what a victim you are and plot your revenge on me.
And your cigarettes…Dear God, do you seriously NOT know how bad they make you smell? Forget that they can lead to emphysema, lung cancer, stomach cancer, throat cancer and mouth cancer, etc., they STINK and sadly, so do you! Does that not bother you? And when you were with Daddy and the doctors told him, and all of us, that he could not be around cigarette smoke, what did you do? You smoked more and you smoked in the house with him. So don’t tell me how cruel he was to you when I know that you were just as culpable in the cruelty within that house. You thought us kids bossy and mean if we said anything and you always made out like we were being mean to & picking on you. Well, it wasn’t about you! Our father lived in that house, too, and you were hateful, spiteful and mean to continue doing something around him that doctors had strongly advised against. You KNEW it could negatively effect his health and that is exactly why you did it.
And as for telling everyone how scared you were of him? If you were fearful of him it was either because you had created that in your own mind, or you knew that your bullshit had finally pushed him too far. But I don’t believe you were ever afraid of him. In fact, your own actions prove that you were not. A woman who fears for her safety does not intentionally put herself in the vicinity of the man she fears. She does everything in her power to keep away from him and you have not done that because you know that you made it all up.
Again, truly wonder if there are any tapes. You keep saying how bad they are and how you would never want your children to hear them, and yet you can’s stop telling people every nasty, filthy perverted detail. Of course, the contents of these tapes just grows in leaps and bounds, with every retelling of the contents. Well, this boggles my mind because with the reputation you gave me in regards to sex, I should be surprised at nothing. And after seeing photos of my mother performing sexual acts on a man when I was 15, my mind is pretty much numbed when it comes to these acts and I’m pretty sure my ears won’t be any more tender.
But you know what, where you are concerned, I really don’t give a shit anymore. You no longer have any control or power over me. You have manipulated me for the last time and I have no more chances to give you.
All those years ago, you could have stopped Wayne from hurting me, but you chose your adult sister over your innocent child. I was 6. SIX! I was an innocent BABY!
Because of you, I killed a child that to this very day, I grieve for. You could have stopped me. You could have offered me love and forgiveness, but most importantly, Godly hope. But you didn’t. You wouldn’t. All you offered was shame, embarrassment, fear and hopelessness.
You have said, with each of my pregnancies, including Abby, “You did this to hurt me! You got pregnant just to embarrass me.” Well, I can assure you that the LAST thing I was thinking about when I committed the acts that led to conception was YOU! I was looking for comfort and love, acceptance and a gentle touch. If you would have given these things to me decently, I probably wouldn’t have had to resort to finding them immorally.
And finally, the first time a man commits adultery, a wife can forgive him. The second time he does it, the wife should take measures against him. But by the fourth or fifth or twentieth time, either the wife accepts the behavior and resigns herself to look the other way, or she somehow takes some sick, wicked, perverted pleasure in the act and/or she takes pleasure in avenging herself in word, action or deed.
Your ‘I’m weak’ argument holds no water and I resent the fact that you think I am so stupid as to buy it. The ‘I had 4 kids to support and couldn’t do it alone’ argument is just as empty. What would you had done had he died at 40? Give us all away, or figure out a way to make it just like thousands upon thousands of other women have done?
You stayed because you wanted to stay and you keep tabs on him and stalk him because you not only don’t want to let him go, but you want to get revenge on him. It is what you live for. Your guiding force in life. To hurt and destroy. You want to make him miserable. You want to hurt him. You want to punish him for shit that happened 40 years ago, and I know this because as much as you hate to admit it, this letter is the YOU IN ME. The only difference is, once I sign this letter and stick it in the mailbox, I’m done and I’m letting it go.
I tried. I made mistakes, I was a problem, I had problems, but I tried to do better and I tried to make amends. You saw my good intentions as weaknesses and you tried to use these weaknesses against me and to your twisted advantage. But I’m nowhere near weak and I am stronger than you OR Daddy have ever been, or will ever be. I am sorry that you never really knew me, nor will you ever.
But, I forgive you 100%. I have to because I love myself. I thank you for giving me life, for teaching me about God and when you were good, for being the best momma ever. But I will no longer allow you to pick at the scars, reopen the wounds and dig away until the pain is too great to bear. And as long as we communicate, you will and I have to stop it once and for all.
You’ve always said that you didn’t like girls and as a girl, I knew that your words were true. Well, I’m making your dream come true now and I am aborting myself from your life so that now, all you’ll have left are the boys that you have always loved so dearly.
Do not contact me ever again. I have nothing left to say to you and I want nothing more to do with you and you no longer have to lie about this. You will NOT receive ANY support from me EVER again.
I don’t have to run anymore. I am finally where I’ve always wanted and needed to be. I am away from you.
May God heal you and care for you.
*Since this letter is now public, please be careful how you and those you share it with retell it.
Unbreakable
I had you pegged from the get-go...
I saw the real you hidden in the depths of your eyes,
felt the sting of your poison tongue,
carried the cracks and bruises of your less than kind touch.
For years you told me how weak I was,
and you went on to tell others how mentally and emotionally unstable I was
when I spoke out against your cruelty, your deception,
your desire to play both sides against the middle
while you came out smelling like a rose.
You've mocked me,
made fun of me,
put me down,
criticized me,
belittled me,
whittled away at my self-esteem
and done your damnedest to break me.
That was, after all, your goal...
To break me;
To render me weak and useless;
To make certain that no one ever believed a single word I said
and to question everything I ever did...
assigning your own evil, ulterior motives to me,
even if they did not fit...
No one ever got close enough to me to know if these things fit or not.
Your silver tongue made certain of that.
You find your courage in a bottle...
that same bottle contains the only strength that you will ever have,
and your lies and games are the only personality that you've ever possessed.
Your life is based on jealousy and tearing those stronger than you down...
You have no other motivation;
no other driving force.
And if anyone challenges you, calls you out, or even attempts to kindly correct you,
the fangs and claws come out and you go into attack mode,
dangerously insane,
wanting that person's very life extinguished...
Your hatred knows no bounds.
Your vindictiveness is your god.
Your evil spills forth like a gangrenous wound,
effecting everything about you...
only you are too used to the putrid smell
and blind to the necrosis you are causing & allowing to consume you.
You've chosen this course
and one day you will stand before G-D...
I wonder...
What will your excuses be then?
What kind of games will you try to play at that final reckoning?
Will you shout that G-D is crazy? Will you scream to all that G-D is unstable?
Will you curse Him with that poisonous tongue of your's?
Will you assault Him with your words and fists?
Will you burst through the gates of Hell and tell wicked lies about Him in your vindictiveness, mock Him and make fun of Him, belittle and criticize Him, and spread all manner of lies around Hell as you attempt to slander Him?
I'm sure that if you have easy access to your alcohol,
you will be just fine...
No matter how hot it might be in Hell,
alcohol is where your strength lies;
your vindictiveness will always be there to comfort you
for you have always found such pleasure in giving misery to others,
and I'm most certain you'll be in ecstasy when all of that misery comes back to you!
Just remember...
You can not break me
because I am not yours to break.
Before I was connected to you in ANY way,
G-D created me by His design, at His time,
and called me His own.
Long before you knew,
I asked His Son into my heart,
and through every single abusive word, action and deed you've thrown at me,
Jesus has been here...
Through ever hurt, every wound, every crack, every cry, every tear...
Jesus has been here to comfort me and remind me that I am His!
You can lie to imperfect and willingly ignorant people,
but you can not lie to The Son of G-D!
My strength comes from Him.
My endurance was fashioned by the stripes that Jesus bore.
My hope is in my Father in Heaven,
and my JOY comes in knowing that Jesus has already won this battle.
After all,
it is not ME that you are trying to kill...
It is the Jesus in me that the Satan in you wants to destroy!
I saw the real you hidden in the depths of your eyes,
felt the sting of your poison tongue,
carried the cracks and bruises of your less than kind touch.
For years you told me how weak I was,
and you went on to tell others how mentally and emotionally unstable I was
when I spoke out against your cruelty, your deception,
your desire to play both sides against the middle
while you came out smelling like a rose.
You've mocked me,
made fun of me,
put me down,
criticized me,
belittled me,
whittled away at my self-esteem
and done your damnedest to break me.
That was, after all, your goal...
To break me;
To render me weak and useless;
To make certain that no one ever believed a single word I said
and to question everything I ever did...
assigning your own evil, ulterior motives to me,
even if they did not fit...
No one ever got close enough to me to know if these things fit or not.
Your silver tongue made certain of that.
You find your courage in a bottle...
that same bottle contains the only strength that you will ever have,
and your lies and games are the only personality that you've ever possessed.
Your life is based on jealousy and tearing those stronger than you down...
You have no other motivation;
no other driving force.
And if anyone challenges you, calls you out, or even attempts to kindly correct you,
the fangs and claws come out and you go into attack mode,
dangerously insane,
wanting that person's very life extinguished...
Your hatred knows no bounds.
Your vindictiveness is your god.
Your evil spills forth like a gangrenous wound,
effecting everything about you...
only you are too used to the putrid smell
and blind to the necrosis you are causing & allowing to consume you.
You've chosen this course
and one day you will stand before G-D...
I wonder...
What will your excuses be then?
What kind of games will you try to play at that final reckoning?
Will you shout that G-D is crazy? Will you scream to all that G-D is unstable?
Will you curse Him with that poisonous tongue of your's?
Will you assault Him with your words and fists?
Will you burst through the gates of Hell and tell wicked lies about Him in your vindictiveness, mock Him and make fun of Him, belittle and criticize Him, and spread all manner of lies around Hell as you attempt to slander Him?
I'm sure that if you have easy access to your alcohol,
you will be just fine...
No matter how hot it might be in Hell,
alcohol is where your strength lies;
your vindictiveness will always be there to comfort you
for you have always found such pleasure in giving misery to others,
and I'm most certain you'll be in ecstasy when all of that misery comes back to you!
Just remember...
You can not break me
because I am not yours to break.
Before I was connected to you in ANY way,
G-D created me by His design, at His time,
and called me His own.
Long before you knew,
I asked His Son into my heart,
and through every single abusive word, action and deed you've thrown at me,
Jesus has been here...
Through ever hurt, every wound, every crack, every cry, every tear...
Jesus has been here to comfort me and remind me that I am His!
You can lie to imperfect and willingly ignorant people,
but you can not lie to The Son of G-D!
My strength comes from Him.
My endurance was fashioned by the stripes that Jesus bore.
My hope is in my Father in Heaven,
and my JOY comes in knowing that Jesus has already won this battle.
After all,
it is not ME that you are trying to kill...
It is the Jesus in me that the Satan in you wants to destroy!
Figuring people out? Impossible!
So many times I have found myself in the process of trying to figure people out. I amaze myself at my inability to learn and grasp that this endeavor will end in failure because it always has, and it always will. People simply can not be 'figured out', no matter how many Sigmund Freud's show up on the scene to analyze and offer their 'professional' opinions. And, yet...I will try to find rhyme and reasoning behind some of the most idiotic and blatantly naive beliefs, arguments and defenses people use to stand behind an evil & fraudulent person, belief or course of action. I'll stupidly try to figure out the why's every single time, even knowing beforehand that it's an impossible task. Still, I will persevere, consequently earning myself the title of 'idiotic & blatantly naive' by pursuing this course of historical & persistent failure.
Sunday, April 13, 2014
Tired
I was absent from Internet for only 24 hours, and it was a very good 24 hours of total solitude, rest & relaxation. Yet, when I returned, it was as if someone had pulled the rug out from under my feet and I went crashing downward...hitting every rock & boulder along the way.
I ask God, "Is it not enough that I have to live with PTSD, Bi-Polar (Manic-Depressive Disorder) and lasting effects of three head injuries (thus far) over the course of my almost 51 years, but then I have to deal with people making fun of me, mocking me, criticizing me for my behavior that I really don't have a handle on in the first place? Is it not enough that I struggle with emotions that I can't explain, thought processes that even I can't comprehend, only to be repeatedly harassed and ridiculed as if I can do a single thing about any of it?"
And what about those foolish people; those thoughtless, inconsiderate bullies who do things, say things, infer things that hurt & upset me? Am I just supposed to lie down and take it because they say so? God help me if I defend myself to any degree because then I become the one who 'needs help', the one who 'gets her panties in a wad', 'the crazy old stupid lady'.
Truth is...I don't like this life, but I accept it because there isn't a thing I can do to change any of it. Some aspects of my life came into being because of choices I made. But other aspects arrived by the hand of others...and these are probably the parts that I rage against because I truly hate being imprisoned to any degree; yet, even if the only escape will be my blessed death, I will rage until that final breath leaves my body.
I am tired of struggling. I am tired of fighting. I am tired of the rage that silently consumes me.
I am tired of being misunderstood because no one, it seems, has the ability or the compassion to comprehend just how painful this life is, and has always been, for me.
Suicide is not an option for me, so there should be no worries there. However, I do long for the day when my God in Heaven looks down on me and says, "You've had enough. It's time to come home to Glory."
I don't know if I'll be worthy to live in Heaven, but I will certainly be ready to see if I am.
I ask God, "Is it not enough that I have to live with PTSD, Bi-Polar (Manic-Depressive Disorder) and lasting effects of three head injuries (thus far) over the course of my almost 51 years, but then I have to deal with people making fun of me, mocking me, criticizing me for my behavior that I really don't have a handle on in the first place? Is it not enough that I struggle with emotions that I can't explain, thought processes that even I can't comprehend, only to be repeatedly harassed and ridiculed as if I can do a single thing about any of it?"
And what about those foolish people; those thoughtless, inconsiderate bullies who do things, say things, infer things that hurt & upset me? Am I just supposed to lie down and take it because they say so? God help me if I defend myself to any degree because then I become the one who 'needs help', the one who 'gets her panties in a wad', 'the crazy old stupid lady'.
Truth is...I don't like this life, but I accept it because there isn't a thing I can do to change any of it. Some aspects of my life came into being because of choices I made. But other aspects arrived by the hand of others...and these are probably the parts that I rage against because I truly hate being imprisoned to any degree; yet, even if the only escape will be my blessed death, I will rage until that final breath leaves my body.
I am tired of struggling. I am tired of fighting. I am tired of the rage that silently consumes me.
I am tired of being misunderstood because no one, it seems, has the ability or the compassion to comprehend just how painful this life is, and has always been, for me.
Suicide is not an option for me, so there should be no worries there. However, I do long for the day when my God in Heaven looks down on me and says, "You've had enough. It's time to come home to Glory."
I don't know if I'll be worthy to live in Heaven, but I will certainly be ready to see if I am.
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