Category: Sexual abuse

July 7, 2015

I imagine him sitting there looking out the window at the top of the cell the only blue sky he can see in that window. Concrete walls surround him. I imagine him realizing how he fucked up his life. I imagine him thinking of me, missing his mom. He has lost his family, his friends and his freedom. He is my son and I will always love him but his sin has forever changed our relationship.

  

I have…

Have you ever asked God “why?”
Have you ever questioned His existence?
Have you ever screamed out in agony wondering why YOU even exist?
Have you ever wondered how a “loving God” could allow such pain and suffering?
Have you ever sat in a puddle of your own tears and felt you couldn’t go on?
Have you ever felt the hatred burning in your bones?
Have you ever tried to wake up hoping it was just a nightmare?
Have you ever sought answers but found none?
Have you ever wondered “why me”?
Have you ever put on a fake smile just so you didn’t have to talk about it?
Have you ever wanted to just start all over?
Have you ever wanted to give up? Everyday?
Have you ever wondered why you couldn’t get in on the good side of life?
Have you ever felt cursed?
Have you ever felt sad and regretted so much of your life?

I have.
  

How am I Supposed To Feel??

How am I supposed to feel when my ex husband doesn’t care enough to answer texts and phone calls from his children?
How am I supposed to feel when my daughter has been molested?
How am I supposed to feel when my son is in prison?
 How am I supposed to feel when my son molests my daughter and I turn him in?
How am I supposed to feel when no one can believe it’s true?
How am I supposed to feel?

Because I can’t feel anything right now. I am numb.

  

May 15, 2015

I’M TIRED

Accustomed to doing things by myself and for myself. My ex husband wasn’t much of an emotional support. He did help around the house. And he would occasionally offer an arm for a hug. He was a human. Most humans do that. But…

I’ve had to be so strong for so many years, through all the abuse. 
But now I am tired. I am weary. I am lonely. 
I can understand why women jump back into other unhealthy relationships. 
Being 100% responsible for the financial and emotional support of a large family is hard! I wish I had a body to come home to at the end of the day to hold me, not just a voice. I wish I had someone to share the responsibility with me, not just financially but also the upkeep of the house, car maintenance and all those things women just aren’t so good at doing.  Don’t get me wrong, I am thankful for what I DO have, but I’m tired. I’m tired of having to be the strong one. It would be nice if someone else could sub in for me for a day or two. Or better yet, help me with it everyday. 
Today just isn’t that day, so, I wipe away the tears… Go wake up the kids for school… Present myself strong for another day… Until I’m am by myself again.

  
But I’ll be ok in the end

May 14, 2015

Negative-vs-Positive 

It has occurred to me that 98% of my blog posts have been all about my woes and negative things happening in my life right now. It would almost appear that I never have anything positive to say. I’m an advocate of “positive thinking”, so I’d like to just say that I have a lot to be thankful for. There are positive things going on in my life. 

I blog my negatives to get them out so my family may get the positives. I am needing to be “strong” for my kids right now. So, you, wordpress family, you get to see my weak side so I can remain strong for my family. Thanks for your patience and understanding. 😉 

 

May 10, 2015

I have found myself saying, “the hardest thing I’ve had to do”, over and over again. But here goes another time: the hardest thing I’ve had to do is let go of trying to keep my son alive.

He has attempted suicide twice, talked about it numerous times. 
His 13yr old sister looked at me with tears in her eyes and said, “Mom, you can’t help someone who doesn’t want to be helped.”
She is so right.
He is in a “treatment center” and they’re putting him in antidepressants… I told them he would just try to take the whole damn bottle. They told me that since he is a minor I am responsible to administer them to him. 
Oh great! Now I have to buy a safe? A lock? Wtf? Where am I supposed to hide these? The last bottle of pills he took … He took them right out of my purse! 
He is almost 17, I’ve not treated him as a child, but now they want me to administer medicine to him as if he’s a baby.  
I told the therapist who is supposed to be “helping” him, “I do not want to just treat his symptoms. Suicide and Major Depressive Disorder are only symptoms of something else going on inside of him. Can we please try to deal with the cause?” 
Oh… ((Insert big sigh here))… This is another one of those “hardest things I’ve had to do” this past year.  

 

A song of suicide

My son wrote this before attempting suicide May 7, 2014

I’ve lost my way

I know I must grow up fast,
No time to make this last.
I’ve got to be rollin’ down the bin,
No time for irresponsible sin 

I am the one to make this go around,

But I’d still like to be 6 feet under ground.

Is this the way?
For sure I cannot say.
Only time will tell,
If we win or if we lose.
For we live with the choices
That we choose
  

May 8, 2014

WHAT A DAY


I had my day planned, scheduled to be off for the first time in what seemed like forever! I was going to get SO much done!

Morning routines were moving along as usual, a bickering sibling to the other. Perfectly normal stuff. 
My son spit his toothpaste into the kitchen sink, but lingered as if he was nauseous.  Something wasn’t right. He seemed too lethargic this morning. He went and laid  down on the chair in our den. I asked if he was ok, and he barely nodded yes. He was almost non-responsive. So I asked if he was hung-over, he nodded no. Then I asked, “what did you take?” He said he took all of my anxiety pills (20-30) and the rest of his girlfriends Zoloft. I said, “what the hell! Were you trying to kill a yourself???” Then he shook his head yes.
I spent my entire day off in the local emergency room. This was his 2nd attempt in less then a year, to commit suicide.  My small town does not have the facilities to deal with this type of thing so they sent him to a specialized hospital 3 hours away. I only get visitation 2 days a week and phone calls on Monday, Wednesday and Friday. 
This is definitely not how I had my day planned out. 
When the doctor asked him why he wanted to hurt himself I mentioned that it’s been a rough year. Then he spoke up and said “if you knew what we’ve been through this past year then you’d understand. “we 
They reassured me that he would see therapists that would help him to deal with the various things we’ve faced this year.
After leaving him to their care I went to my doctor to get my (much needed) anxiety pills refilled. He refused. He didn’t want to be liable.
So here I am. My Bp 180/?? Nothing but liver damaging alcohol to help.
Where’s a therapist for mom?
Everyone talks about “how strong of a woman I am” … I ask, is this what “strong” feels like? I don’t think you would think that if you saw my smeared mascara, and empty tequila bottles.
Life needs to give my family a paid vacation. 

 

Children of Abuse

Children of abuse

One by one they fall like drones

The children of abuse

Can’t you hear their cries

Vitriolic and caustic words

Ingrained into their minds

Silently they sigh

Quietly they go through life

Never telling a soul

Pretending to be shy 

Seeking ways to cope in life

alcohol, cutting and drugs

their memories to nullify

Suicidal thoughts prevail 

Withdrawal and depression

Wishing to stay high

They fade into the crowds
Trying to fit In
Hiding in the light
Hid in closets, out of sight 
Protecting the innocent ones
I can hear their cries
(To be continued) 

         

May 4, 2015

Sometimes life takes us down a road we would not have chosen. Sometimes it full of detours, construction, speed bumps and pot holes. Sometimes there may even be delays.

Although you have to pay attention to the road so you don’t crash you can’t forget where you were headed. Always remember where you plan to go. Perhaps one of those detours will get you there sooner.