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There are some things that I am coming to realize about my mother….


And they are not pretty.  When I was a small child my mother and father were together.  From the stories I have been told, he beat on her a lot.  I was far to young to ever remember something like that.  But I have it on good authority that he is an abusive man and an alcoholic.  I do not doubt that she suffered a great deal at his hands.

Some background for any of you that don’t know these things about me: I am a middle child.  I have an older sister and a younger brother.  We all three have different fathers.  When I was about 6 my stepdad adopted me.

I have come to realize as I have gotten older that the only reason that this happened was so that my father would not access to me and would not make my mother and sister scared anymore.  It is possibly so that he would not hurt me like he hurt them, but I don’t know.  I have to assume that they did what they thought was in my best interests.

When I was 5 my brother was born.  My sister is 8 years older than I am.  Mom and Dad went out a lot and left my sister in charge.  Would have been great except that my sister resented me for having been born and making her not be the only child anymore and she resented me for being “his” daughter and the reason mom kept him in our lives for so long.  She told me once when she was 16 or so that she really hated me when I was born.  People say that sticks and stones can’t hurt you but these words play back in a person’s mind and they do something horrible to the soul.

As I was growing up my mother would use my father as a threat.  If I did not go along with what she wanted me to do or act how she wanted me to act then she would threaten to make me go live with him.  From the horrible things that I was told about him, I did not want that.

My sister and her Daddy were always very close.  My brother was the son my mother had always wanted.  I was the middle child and all I had was my mother.  I was not my dad’s child by blood…just the one that he had to take ownership of. Of course, I am sure, he resented me for that.  So here I was this middle child with no one in this world to intervene for me but my mother.

About the time that I was 8 or 9 is when it started.  My sister moved out and moved in to live with her Daddy.  Mom and my sister had some really bad arguments but mom never beat on her.  My sister had a Daddy she could count on and who would defend her.  My brother was only like 3 or 4 so he couldn’t possibly do anything to warrant a beating.  But I could.  I was the daughter of the bastard who beat on her and no one could or would stop her from beating on me.  Belts, paint stir sticks, hands….whatever was handy.  It started and was worst when I would bring home bad grades.  Looking back now, I am absolutely certain that I had some form of learning disability or even possibly have Asperger’s Syndrome, but she never cared enough to try to figure out what was going on, just the “what the hell is wrong with you?” and the beatings.  She would even tell me sometimes that somethings I did reminded her of Chuck (my biological father) and when I did those things she just wanted to kill me.  My mother told me she wanted to kill me.  I was just a child.  Sticks and stones DO hurt.  And they replay over and over inside of a person’s soul.

When I was 13 we move to Cincinnati.  It got worse when we lived there.  It got much worse.  When I was 14 there was an incident where my mother’s cousin was coming to visit and my mother got angry with me for eating the last honey bun.  I had not, but she called me a liar and beat me with her belt.  She left welts and bruises up and down my legs.  She will swear to this day that I over exaggerated it and that this did not happen how I said it did, but she lies.  She doesn’t actually lie, but stretches it so far that she might as well lie.

She was always angry with me.  There would be brief periods of time when I would feel like we were finally going to get along and that she would protect me, but then she would turn on me again.  Almost as if she got off on the bait and switch she was playing with me.  When I was in 6th grade “dad” called me a bitch because I had teased my hair up and had it in the current style.  We were going to the father/daughter dance and I was getting ready.  She defended me on this.  Then she never did again.  There were so many times he would call me that name under his breath and she would say it did not count if it was under his breath.

When she beat me that time about the hunny bun, I wore shorts to school.  The school called CPS on her but they did nothing to protect me.  I went home with a friend because I was scared to go home.  I was terrified she would play the perfect mother and call me a liar and they would let her off the hook, so I ran away.  Well they found me and CPS did let them off the hook and they chose to make my life worse because of this.

From that point on I had to hear her tell me how I called CPS on her and that I was not abused….that those kids whose parents do things like burn or scald them or cut on them or all of these other horrible things, those were the ones that were abused.  She would tell me I had it so great compared to them and I needed to appreciate it.

We moved back to Indiana when I was 15.  We moved to Terre Haute which is where we lived when my boyfriend at the time raped me.  My mother walked in on that and did not even consider that it could have been anything other than her no good worthless daughter being a whore.  And she treated me accordingly.

There is a pattern of abuse throughout my life but she refuses to acknowledge that she has ever done anything to harm or hurt me.  It is very possible that I have Asperger’s or some other condition.  Whether this condition is something that is genetic like Asperger’s or something that is resultant of her abuse of me, I don’t know.  I do know that I have PTSD.  I have a severe case of PTSD from the abuse, the rapes and the miscarriages.  I have a pattern of letting people be mean to me because I am afraid.  Not because they scare me but I am so conditioned to be afraid.

She stole my son from me when he was just over a year old.  She was pushing me and I sent him to his father’s for the night so that I could have the night to figure things out.  I went to my best friend’s house and my mother showed up there with her best friend and my sister and told me to get my “shit” out of my car, which was in her name (another control mechanism she used on me) and left me on my best friend’s doorstep telling her that I was her problem now.  She stranded me and got his father to bring him to her and then never let me have him back.  In effect, she kidnapped my son.  I was so terrified of her that I could not fight even though it was tearing my heart out.

I  had lost my job and I had lost my apartment and when I needed my mother to help me, she cast me to the wolves and took the one thing that meant anything to me.  I want to hate her.  I want to cut her out of my life, but here is the thing….even though I know that I am much better than that and I KNOW I do not need her approval or even really want it, I still long for her love.  It makes me so very sad because I know that she will never love me.  She will always punish me for the blood that runs in my veins.  She takes that tone with me and I feel how much she doesn’t care.  I feel her lack of love.  She can say I love you and make you very aware that she does not in the same breath.  These are the hurts that I carry in my soul.  These are the things I have in my mind when I lay down to try to go to sleep at night.  I am so tired of feeling so very worthless and unloveable.  And I am tired of no one listening to me or believing me that she did these things to me.

I told my sister recently and she did not even believe me.  My mother has the family so convinced that I am a drama queen that no one will even listen to me, much less take me seriously.  I have realized that my mother is an evil person.  I just don’t know how to fight her and her money and lawyers.  But I will say that the day my son turns 18 and is graduated from school I will tell her everything that I have held back.

A mother’s heartbreak…


Ok so any of you that have read my blog know that I have one teenage son with aspergers.  You may also know that I have 9 angel babies that I never got to hold.  You may also have occasion to know that that is all I will ever have because I had a hysterectomy last year after battling PCOS for many years and finally not being able to stand it any longer.  For those who don’t know, please read up on my blogs.

Last night I called my son while leaving work, like I do every single day.  A call in the morning, a call after work and a call to say goodnight.  Last night he informed me that he was going to spend this next weekend hanging out with his friend instead of coming home.  He has not been home for the past two weekends.  This generally would hurt my feelings but not reduce me to tears.  Generally.  This coming weekend is Mother’s Day.  This coming weekend should be a time for him to come home and say thanks for being his mom, for us to spend the day together doing fun stuff that we both enjoy.  But no.  No mother’s day for me this year.

He had informed me that Mother’s Day is just another day to him.  That it doesn’t mean anything really.  This, of course, was after  he informed me that since I only saw him every other weekend I was barely a parent.  This was also after he informed me that my husband, the guy who he told me he loved like a dad, was annoying and that he didn’t think of anyone as a dad.

This breaks my heart.  But I know it is not his fault.  These are the things that go along with him being an aspie.  He lacks that empathy that typical minded folks  have.  But living with his grandmother, instead of being taught to look for these moments and learn how to behave so as not to hurt others, he is being taught that “This is how I am, take it or leave it.”  Now generally this would be what I would want for him, but not to the point where he doesn’t care who he hurts or how badly.

And she told me that she was ok with him not coming home to me on mother’s day because “He is home”.  Last night I did not call my son to tell him goodnight.  I prayed that he would call me.  He did not.  I guess she is going to keep on until she finds a way to cut me out of his life completely.  I just wish that I knew what I could possibly have done to make her hate me so much that she has to harm him to hurt me.

I am going to take a minute and get really deep and emotional with you all…..


I posted this on my other blog and thought that it was maybe a better fit to this blog, so I wanted to share it here too.

 

I am going to take a minute and get really deep and emotional with you all…...

 

My family took my child from me when he was just over a year old under the guise of it being just “guardianship” so that they could get him insurance since I had lost my job, was losing my apartment and everything was going south for me. Instead of helping me to get back on my feet my mother had my sister call my pager and trick me into telling them where I was. They showed up, took my car, left me stranded in the middle of downtown on my best friend’s doorstep and then began the process of taking my son away from me. I was 21 and scared. I had no money and no lawyer while they had plenty of both.

I did not do drugs. I was not a drinker. They did not like my boyfriend at the time and my house was messy. I was a single mother trying to adjust to a baby. There were times when there was no food in the house for me, but he always had everything he needed, whether I ate or not. But though they will tell you that I couldn’t take care of him, that was not the only reason that they took my baby boy. They also did not approve of my religious beliefs and thought that they knew better how to raise a child and so they took him from me. It is all too common these days for these grandparents to think that they know better and to destroy their children’s lives and their grandchildren’s lives by taking their grandchildren away from their rightful parents. Sadly too many of us were raised to respect our parents and to think that our parents want what is best for us…so we don’t know what to do when they are the ones that turn against us. What do you do when your parents cast you aside, take your child and then tell you that YOU are being selfish for wanting your child back? How sick and twisted does an individual have to be to think that this is ok? What mental illness tells a parent that it is ok to stop caring about your child and take everything away from them?

I have one child. I have lost 9. I will never be able to have any more children. I miss my son every single day of my life. I resent that my mother stole so much of his life from me. I resent that I was not there to hold him when he was sick or to be there when he woke up with a nightmare. I am haunted by my dad telling me that my son would wake up in the night crying for me and I was not there. I loathe them for what they have done to me…and a part of me weeps because I want to love my family. I want to be able to love my parents and have a good relationship with them but they destroyed that. Instead of helping their daughter who was lost and trying to find her way, they just cut her loose, threw her to the wolves and took away the one and only reason that she was still alive. Who in their right mind would ever think that was ok?

My son will be 14 this year. He has been taught by his grandmother that I am barely a parent. That since I only see him every other weekend, that means that I should not have any say in anything he does and that I have no right to make him mind me when I do have him. He has been taught that if he is not a christian he cannot live in their home, forcing him to choose between the life he has always known and change. My son has aspeger’s syndrome and he does not do well with change. He wants everything to just stay the way it is. So he does not have any freedom to explore what path he wants to follow as far as religion is concerned. He has been taught that I am a joke, that I am something to laugh at because I want to be his mother so much but they took that away from me. And he has been taught that it is ok to talk mean to people so long as you make them feel bad for not being able to take a joke because after all, its only words.

My mother has recently brought up wanting to adopt my son. I told her that there was no way, it was not going to happen. She has convinced him that it needs to happen and that I am selfish for not just letting her do it. I told her that I don’t trust that I would still be able to see him if she did because she has lied to me and used him against me when she did not agree with me in the past. To this I was told, “It always has to be about you doesn’t it?” This was from my mother. What I want to know, as MY mother, when is she ever going to make it about me, HER child. I know that my wants and needs are nothing when it comes to what my child needs and what is best for him. I wish to the Gods that someone would teach that woman the same lesson. I am tired of being hurt by her.

I am tired of being hurt by the one person who should have always been on my side….who should never have wanted to hurt me. And it breaks my heart.

Cosmopolitan what the HELL are you thinking?!?!?!?!


In the same week that the full transcript of the Kobe Bryant police interview is released in its ENTIRETY leaving no one with even the smallest shred of brainpower the ability to deny that he is most likely guilty of raping that poor girl, Cosmo lists Kobe as on of the 30 hottest guys in the NBA.  Seriously?  I don’t think rapists are sexy….do you?

I have long been debating on whether to renew my Cosmo subscription when my 3 year subscription runs out this year.  I think that with them acting this irresponsibly I will have to say thanks, but no thanks.

Too much physical pain to deal with mental and emotional pain….


I have been emotionally raw lately and not really able to write about it.  I find myself falling and failing at a lot of things that I have been trying to do.

The support group is having a VERY VERY slow start.  I am working with another woman on starting a group here in Columbus for the witches in the area.  It is hard being so alone in faith sometimes and at the holidays it gets worse.  This new group should be a good way for us to find community with each other, but even that is not without strife.

I find myself offending when I don’t mean to.  I find myself socially awkward.  I want to make plans and get the plans set in stone but that doesn’t happen and then I panic.  I have a very hard time dealing with waiting for someone else to make plans…sometimes even waiting for someone else to text me back.  It is not that I intend to offend anyone, but I do much better with structure and plans being made and set.  I don’t deal well with chaos.

It is spring and the aches and pains have been worse this spring than they were all winter.  I am hurting almost all the time…so I am moody and irritable.  My hubby and I keep fighting because of this.  I have arthritis.  It is possible that I have fibromyalgia…but I cannot afford to go have the testing done because I am still paying off my deductible from last year.

It is also possible that I have asperger’s syndrome, but I cannot afford that testing either.

I am hopeful that this will lessen soon.  I really hope that it does.  I don’t know how much more I can take of this pain.

I guess the good thing is that while I am hurting like this I don’t much think about the emotional stuff I have going on because it hurts too much to focus on much else.  **Sighs**Maybe one day I will move into a space where I am pain free….physically, mentally and emotionally….

 

Big News!!!


I have officially booked the room for the first three support group meetings!!! My business cards should be arriving soon. I also ordered post cards to post around town. I am really feeling like this is finally really coming together. I am nervous but really excited. I cannot wait for the meetings to begin. My husband keeps saying that I am going to end up as someone with a lot of influence. Whether I do or not this feels like such important work. I just wish that I had more time to devote to it!

How am I feeling now?


Well I am glad that you asked.  I am actually feeling pretty good.  I am sorry I have not posted a lot lately.  Things have been CRAZY busy.  The month of October usually is.  I finally finished my son’s blanket (which is fracking awesome!).  I have started saying Frack a lot instead of Fuck in an effort to curb the cursing.  I have gotten put on new medications which will hopefully take care of my lower regions medical woes and get me back to feeling better.  I am going onto a new med which should facilitate weight loss (YAY!) and the world seems to be looking up.

I have been doing a lot of house cleaning the past few days.  I spent 4 hours on laundry last night folding, hanging up, putting away, washing, drying….blah.  I have been doing dishes more regularly and making myself be up and moving around cooking and whatnot when I get home so that I don’t get as stiff. 

I am still looking to start that support group.  Any ideas on flyers or posters?  I am going to a retreat with my hubby next month for survivors (our anniversary weekend) and am hoping to get some good information there.

I did miss my cultural sensitivity training from INCASA.  I had to go to the dentist.  Actually, the first time in 13 years.  Pretty good though.  Only 3 cavities.  I knew I had periodontal disease but we are getting that treated and working towards keeping my teeth in my mouth where they belong.  So far so good.  I am glad I finally decided to go.  I don’t know why I was so scared to.

Anyways, I am going to try to get on here more to post about relevant topics to this blog.  I just wanted  you to all know that I did not forget about you.  I appreciate each and every one of you.  I keep getting more and more subscribers and followers on twitter.  I feel blessed to be doing something that can help make a difference, even if only to one person.

Please give me ideas for posts.  If you would like to see me write about something, let me know.  You can either leave it in a comment here or email it to  me at whereismyreallife@gmail.com and I will try to write about every topic I get.  I will also give credit to the requestor.

Thank you all for reading my blog.  Thank you for being there for me.  Thank you for letting me be there for you.

Love and light,

Lucky

P.S. I have recently realized that somehow after all that has come before in my life, my rose colored glasses do seem to be pretty much still intact.  Some small cracks and some days I cannot find them, but for the most part I win.

Following in his mama’s footsteps…Or maybe I am following in his…


This is my boy speaking out against bullying and for himself and others with Asperger’s and Autism Spectrum Disorders.  I am so stinking proud of him!!!

Versatile Blogger Award – A cry for help…..


Ok so I am petitioning you, my readers.  I would like one of these.  Not because I think that it is an important award sure to bring me more readers.  But because I am currently writing a wandering rants blog, a survivor blog AND a blog that is going to be turned into a book once I have enough material in it.

My links are:

www.whereismyreallife.wordpress.com

www.victimnomore.wordpress.com

AND

www.adayinthelifeanaveragenorthamericanwitch.wordpress.com

So I would like for someone to give me one of these please.  Also, tell your friends…send them on over for some fun reading.  And while you are at it, tell WordPress to freshly press me.  Really, I believe that it is about time I got one of those things too. 

**finally takes a breath**

Ok rant over.

(copied here from WhereIsMyRealLife)

Yesterday….All my troubles seemed so far away….


I am sorry that it has been so long since I have posted.  Things have been going kind of crazy with me.

Yesterday, against my better judgement, my husband and I drove up to Indianapolis for the Family Reunion.  I have not gone to one in a lot of years.  Mostly I do not go because I am not skinny and the family tends to poke at weight issues.  Not that I have issues with my weight.  I am comfortable in my skin but they like to poke and that hurts.  I had just pulled up to the site and gotten out of the car.  My sister came over to get her Diet Pepsi and joke with me and my husband.  We walked over to the shade and then I heard some of the family members freaking out.  I looked in and it was my Grandma that they were crowding around.  My Grandma lost consciousness and hit the floor.  Actually she was lowered onto the floor by several family members.  My cousin called the ambulance.  I got my MR uncle into my car.  My sister took my husband and my cousin and we all headed to the hospital.  A bunch of us went there but not all.  Not even all the ones that were bawling their eyes out and being dramatic.  Anyway, back to what happened.  We got to the hospital and had to wait a long while.  I kept my MR uncle calm along with my sister and my other uncle and my cousin.  My mom got there a bit later.  We finally got to go back with Grandma and it turned out that she had dehydrated and it was possible her meds (or lack of taking them that morning) had been the cause.  Her blood pressure dropped scary dangerously low.  They admitted her and we all went up to her room for a while.

Today I called and my MR uncle was crying wanting me to come get him, so I looked at my hubby and said I was going to go.  He was totally ok with this.  I love my hubby.  I showered and hit the road.  I was there in pretty good time.  I took my uncle to Wal-Mart and we got grandma flowers and a vase and a new house coat.  She hates hospital gowns as much as anyone else so I did not want to leave her in one longer than I had to. We got up to the hospital and grandma said her potassium level was low and that there may be some kind of internal bleeding because she is anemic but they do not know where.  I was up there most of the day.  I do not want to go to work tomorrow.  I want to go back up and be with her.  This is so scary to me.

The thing that upsets me the most about it is how I have to be strong and can’t be upset about it because I have to take care of people.  Then by the time that I am able to fall apart everything is getting better and most people are all “what are you crying for now?  she is ok” but dammit I hate having to be strong.

Last night when we got back to our town, I broke down crying in the gas station parking lot.  Then when I was finally calmed, I went in to get a polar pop.   While I was getting it, this girl came up and said “Have you ever had one of those days where everything goes wrong?”  I said “Yeah my grandma collapsed at the family reunion today and is in the hospital.”  She then told me that she was a victim of domestic violence and had gone to the local shelter and they had turned her away.  I did not ask why they turned her away.  I did recommend she contact INCASA.  I told her I had been there and that she needed to do what she needed to do to get herself safe.  She left very quickly.  I pray that she was able to find someplace safe to go.

I am sorry if this is a bit disjointed.  I am really tired and trying to get this all out.  I am a wreck.  I want my grandma to be ok.  I want to know that she is ok.  I want her to not ever be sick and never die.  Unfortunately I know that this is not possible.  She will be 86 in 5 days.  I know that I may not have her much longer.  Dammit it is not fair.