The Village of Me

Hello people of the minuscule world known as my followers. All... One? of you.
   They say it takes a village to raise a child, and they are right. If children are to know the world they need to know the different sides of it. Well what if you are the only resident of your village, with two children in tow? What if everyone else is just a tourist to your town, no one permanent? Nothing stable? How is a child to be brought up well rounded if only the mayor is around to bring them up? But everyone else is on vacation?
   How is one person supposed to sacrifice herself for the good of her kids? Eventually there is nothing left, right? What if there was nothing much there to begin with? Love is in abundance, but patience, will, and ability are in lacking. These children suffer in an ever changing landscape when they need a home. How can I give that to them when I myself am not even home? The world is in chaos, and I'm supposed to be the solitude?
   How can one person protect innocents from pain, when they themselves hurt on a daily basis. How can one person seek out the soul of another, if they cannot leave their town? How can one person complete the job of many, and expect good quality. A factory doesn't expect good parts to be made by one person alone? So how can the world expect one person to raise a child in the same time it takes many? How can I teach lessons that I myself seem to be unable to learn? How do I show them the path when I myself don't know where it is? Where is my village to help me find the way? How do I guide my children to find their village? Where is my compass? Where is my map? How can I find this place if I am trapped in this space?
   I have dreams for the future, but I cannot succeed on my own? Where is that step I need to get where I want to be?
   I guess there would need to be genuine caring for all these questions to be answered? No more wayward souls, but real people, here. Now. Forever. Someone willing to step away from their travels, and to settle in our town, to pick up the slack that so many carelessly dropped. Someone to harmonize in the rhythm of the work to be done. Someone that can advise the mayor, and become so much more than ever was.Someone to bring a balance to the fallen scales. Someone to heal a broken heart, and mend the broken foundation of this town.Someone who can fix the flow, and change the direction of the rivers of time. Someone who can lift the spirits of this town with a simple word, someone who can light the way through the darkness, someone who won't let us thirst.
   It's takes a village to raise a life, a larger one to raise two, yet I'm standing here in the rubble of the town center, cleaning debris with my own two hands, trying to fix what I destroyed. I'll never be mayor of the century. I'll never have awards with my name on them, and I'll go down in history as the worst leader of all time. This village will crumble into the earth, and it's residence will be thrown into the winds of fate with nowhere to go, and all that will be remembered is the failure to do what many should have done. That more could have, and should have, been done.
   The gravestone will be empty, because nothing worth remembering will be lain there, buried and forgotten. Lost, and abandoned. The weeds will grow, and even the marker of SOMETHING being there will be erased. People will move on, making a difference that could not be done here; and no one will be the wiser.

The Damsel and the Knight

once upon a time there was a knight in dented armor. He had been exiled by the court of his kingdom, and lived each day just getting by. One day, at a gathering to feed the poor, he met a damsel. No she was not the fairest of them all. No she was not a princess of any sort. This damsel was just an oridnary woman, barely in her womanhood, who had lost all hope with life. Fates would have them meet at the round table, and as the forced down their meager helpings, a discussion bloomed, and plans to meet in the near future were set. He would later come upon his sandy steed, and whisk her away. As the conversation deepened, she learned this knights recent armor chinks were rather shocking, having been just released from the stockades just months before, and now was under constant surveillance. Scared though the damsel was, his sweet smile, and eyes that held a thousand hurts, enraptured her. The promise of a future glued her. She moved to the kingdom of his forefathers after word of her courtship spread, and she was no longer welcome in the  pauper's home. Life in this new kingdom was far from easy. The woman had still much to learn about life, and the elders knew too much of too little. Tensions grew between the people, but the love between the knight and the damsel, strained though it was, grew with it. They soon wed, and were together at last. Happy. Maybe. The damsel knew, deep down, that a marriage would change things, make things that were already difficult to bear, unmanagable. Whenever tensions grew too high, the damsel would bear the full blame from all sides, including the man she loved. When times grew tough, and the damsel thought to seek help with her kin in the far kingdom to the north, he threatened to take himself from the picture. If a thought crossed her mind, that was not to his favor, he'd belittle her until she bowed to his will. The damsel loved him through it all, citing that the tensions in the home were the cause for his poor treatment, lack of respect, and utter disregard for the woman he claimed to love. In the struggle, they bore a child. The challenge to raise this infant up was great, and it took a toll on the damsel. She knew not of what she was doing, and the strain of sleepless nights, the pain from the birth, and the mental damage caused, had the damsel close to giving up. She pulled through, and managed to keep this beautiful child alive, healthy and happy. Happy though this daughter was, the same could not be said for her parents. The torment caused between all involved was growing too strong, and the woman knew she needed to get out, but was scared of trying to do it alone. Scared of what he would do if she tried. The fear of losing her precious child held her in her place. In the darkness came another ray of light, in the form of another child. The damsel was shocked at her arrival, with the war at home so strong. With the news of new life on the way, the woman thought of what life she wanted for their future. The picture envisioned was not one of a battle-weary family, but one that was happy, and smaller. The woman knew she could not be the mother required as long as she stayed put. She fled, but not without opposition from the man she still loved, even if he hurt her so much. He removed the saddle from her stead, preventing her from riding off, and threatened to have her taken away, but she sought assistance from her distant kin, and was away from him, as he was escorted to the stockades for his tirade. As she coward away from him, lost and alone, she tried to figure out how she was going to raise a family alone. She didn't know the first thing about living alone. Soon the fear of being the sole provider, the only leg to the table her children sat at, and her inability to see she was worth so much more, threw herself at the knight's feet, and begged to work it out, thinking that he would see the fault, and be able to help repair the holes in their love. She was wrong, and she knew it, but being wrong was easier, than being strong. They fell into old patterns, and could not get past the hurt of past transgressions. As time moved on the woman learned to do things on her own, and was even sent to the stockade herself after trying to flee trouble. When no one was there to help her back up, she had had enough. She secured her own home, and managed it on her own. She learned how to establish her own life, and was no longer afraid of the knight's silver tongue that was laced with poison. She pushed him away, and thought she wanted to keep trying, she knew it was no longer worth the heartache and stayed gone. The knights dents continued to grow in number, as he tried to replace her, and drown his sorrows with his own poison. The damsel tried to be civil, but was always roped into his duel of words. The damsel hoped to be freed of her villain when she had met the knight all those years ago, but his dents were too numerous, and hurt too deep, and in the end turned him into the villain she feared. In the end she became her own knight, and hopefully rescued her children from a similar fate.

Cliffs of Reality

Hello strangers.

   I was writing about my feelings earlier and I had gotten this image. A tall young man, with a chip in his shoulder. He's been pushed around his entire life, beaten, forgotten, lied, cheated, and abused. He's spent this time on Earth blaming the world for his problems. Every love that's come through has found another's arms before telling him goodbye. His family barely looks him in the eye, but begrudgingly takes him in regardless. 

   Then he meets a girl with nowhere to go, abandoned and scared. She'd been abused, and forgotten, ostracized and put down. He saw an opportunity to get ahead. He could see what she wanted, so he painted her a picture. One of the American Dream. A life together settled down, working together to provide for the family they had built.

   Over the years, with that image in mind, she worked harder than she'd ever imagined, meanwhile the man had other plans. "Let her do all the work, and I will reap the reward. If everything fails, it will be her fault for doing it wrong." She could see this was wrong, but the painting never left her sight, and blinded her to the artist who would constantly stab her in the heart.

   She carried him through every storm, when all had left her. She supported him when they were kicked back to the curb. She sacrificed her very being until her vision in the painting was so distorted, she didn't know who she was or what she truly wanted any longer. When the world would shove him over a cliff, she would dive right over with him to protect him from the impact, meanwhile killing her. Then she would have to begin again, and start from scratch, while watching him dust himself off, and blame her for the scratch he received.

   Then two beautiful girls came along for this roller coaster of doom. By the second arrived, she began to see a different image in the painting. She realized that he was not to be in the painting if she was to be happy. She needed to paint her own portrait, with her and the girls. One that she creates, and exhibits in real life. At this point he was heading to another cliff, and she began to curve her trajectory away from it. She held fast to the girls, only allowing them so close to the edge with him.

   As the distance grows greater, he turns his back to the cliff, and the "world" he blames encircles him, no longer shielded by his other-half. They coax him to the edge. As he gets closer, he's unaware, too busy arguing with the reality he's arrived at. They shove him over.

   She can hear him scream, but she can no longer save him. If she falls one more time, there will be no more fixing her brokenness. She will be gone for ever. So with a heavy heart, and tears in her eyes, she keeps her back to him, and walks away, children in tow, too young to understand what they've been dragged in to, and hurt to be walking away.

The Walking Dead Marriage

Hello IP,

I truly do miss this. I just wish it had been real... I'm only keeping this and others on Facebook for the girls to look back on, to see where they came from. Better up on here than saved to any of my devices... I'll probably move them to the girls pages and let them decide when they're older... but for now, Remembering the good, and mourning the loss is what I need. I miss having someone to come home to. I miss being hugged from behind. I miss having someone there to tell me they love me. But to be honest, I fell more loved, and more beautiful without him, than I ever did with him.... (and I tyed that last sentence with my eyes closed fighting the tears. I worked so hard for something, that I knew was bad. In the end I'm glad I did. I don't regret it. I received three blessings from it. I learned to be self-sufficient and not rely on others for how I feel, Elizabeth, and Allyson. I will never regret loving him, I will never regret holding on. I only regret that I didn't try hard enough. Looking back, I knew all along it was unhealthy, but I blamed it on our environment. I truly believed that if I got us out of there, we'd be alright... At least I am out, I am happy, I am strong, i am beautiful, I am good enough. I have come so far, and have so much further to go. I know some day I will be blessed with the a heart that sees mine for what it truly is, and can be the balm on my broken heart. Someone to be an example of what a husband should be for my girls, so they never wind up a punching bag like I did. Not to say that he hit me, but I was a target of mental abuse throughout... Looking at pictures like this almost blur out the bad, but then I look at the screenshots of his texts and remember what he said to me the last time we talked.... I made the right choice finally... I know I pissed everyone off throughout this mess.... I just wish everyone could see it from my perspective. I truly believed that he loved me in his messed up way. That with the way he grew up, that was the only way he could love... and for me, I was desperate to have someone loved me. I was alone and had nowhere else to turn to until him. I no longer need the love of others. Thank God I have it now, since I've found my soul sisters, and good friends I've made along the way. I've learned to love myself for all my flaws, and am trying to work it out. My marriage died, and it's hard to get over that... it's hard to grieve over something you knew was dead to begin with... Something that nearly killed me on the inside. Then I walked away. This tie was different from all of the other times... I started to sing again. I've started nerding again. I don't have to walk on eggshells, looking over my shoulder, wondering if I'm going to get yelled at when I get home because someone was nice enough to compliment me, or just talk to me. I look at my girls, and I see him. When Alice frowns, she looks just like her daddy when he throws a fit. It's hard to see him in their eyes. I only hope that the girls understand what happened, and why I left and broke up their home. Why there's all this tension. Why mommy and daddy can't even sit in the same room for five minutes without arguing... I hope they resepect my decision and choose a path different from mine. That the realize they are beautiful, and don't need a man to make them happy. They have all they need right inside of them. It took me nearly 26 years to figure it all out. There's a difference between knowing, and learning. We all know, we hear it all the time. But to understand it, is another level entirely...Love isn't always beautiful, not at the start, but once you recognize it, you'll see the real beauty underneath, and all the rest will not be worth fighting for.

There is Always a Light in the Darkness, You Just Have To Look

   Good Morrow Fair People!!
I have fallen silent yet again. What a shock! So very unlike me! (Have we caught on to my sarcasm yet??? My button seems to be broken of late).
My computer died and had to be sent in for repairs only to wind up being replaced with a poorer version of itself, and blogging on my phone is a pain. But I am mostly back now, not that anyone truly cares.
   I am in a bit of an artsy mood and felt like writing. Sang all day, added a few songs to my Smule profile, sand with Michael Buble, rocked the showtunes. You know, normal stuff.
   I've just been feeling the weight of the world on my shoulders lately, and nearly collapsed. You see, I took the burden away from God, and started taking it all on myself. I had forgotten my place in His kingdom, and began to drown. I was so lost in the dark, I couldn't see the light. I was ready to give up hope.
   Screams of agony escaped from my heart. I cursed myself for being so stupid as to allow myself to fall so far behind when I had worked so hard to be where I am today. The tears of distress burned my eyes, and drowned me in shame. My best friend was right there with me, and was able to calm me down. I honestly do not know what I would do without her.
   Then the terms were settled within, and I remembered that God has a plan for my life. He will not forsake me. He will not allow my children to grow up without me. He will help me navigate this stormy desert.
   Making a hermitage was my goal for the day. Sustenance was of little consequence for body. Depression had filled my core; and though it was hardly noticed, I did recognize it at least. That right that lead me to realize that I would get through this. Recognition of the source is a good step towards healing myself.
   Upon the return of my friend, she suggested we hike down the road for late night snack run. Knowing I needed to get out of the house before I lost myself again, but wanting so much to veg out, I happily agreed. The walk was daunting in my mind. I didn't feel capable.
   My spirits were quickly lifted upon checking the mail. There inside was a letter that was a literal answer to my prayer. God truly loved.. LOVES.. me.
   How can I work without my car? How is one suppose to pick up their children without a car? How is one suppose to get anything done without a car? Without transportation I will lose my job, my home, my car, my phone, my children...... everything....
   The letter unfolded before me, only it's not a letter. It's a CHECK for three-quarters of the bill to fix my car. I still have remnants of my last paycheck. I can get my car back. Now I just have to get back to work before I lose all of my points.
   If I am too late, that is ok, there are plenty of places looking to hire. I may have to go back to factory work, I lose time with my children, but I am sure God will guide me on this journey. I trust him with all of my heart and my soul. God is good. I am blessed. I AM LOVED.

Two Way Mirror

Wow. To see my daughter fall apart at the seems like me? With my Mom, Dad, what we went through as I grew up, I learned how to react to it, mostly. Instead of an hour long ordeal like they were with me, I was able to get Elizabeth​ to give up. She's uber tired from an exciting day, and forgot how to take her jacket off. Because of that one ripple in her reflection, she just exploded. I had to drag her kicking and screaming to bed. I had already laid Allyson​ down. I stepped outside for a minute to see if she would calm down, but really didn't want to leave the baby in there. I walked in, scooped up Alice, and sat against the living room door, barring Lizzie there. I sat with Alice singing to her to keep her calm and help her relax and try to block out Lizzie screaming at the top of her lungs. Lizzie starting kicking at the door which is when I reacted. A tantrum is one thing, but trying to damage things to express yourself is wrong. I disciplined her, then went back to sitting against the door and let her scream herself hoarse... I kept flashing back to me as child. Granted I was quite a bit older than her when I did this, but it is still very similar. I remember how draining it was. How midway I would kind of "wake up" and wonder why I was freaking out. I became aware that I was making too big a deal of things and needed to calm down. It honestly doesn't take much when you don't know what's happening. And if you're on the outside looking in, it's even harder if you've never seen the inside. You don't want them to feel abandoned, but if you draw attention, it makes it worse. And discipline can make things harder. From what I learned in the last 25 years is to put her in a safe quiet place, and let her scream herself horse. Wait until she's been quiet for a few minutes before you go to her. Any time before that and you'll upset her again. She'll feel threatened and break apart, even if you come with love. Last but not least, especially if this is a nighttime ordeal, put her to bed. Tuck her in. Give her love and hugs and cuddle her. Speak with a firm but gentle and loving voice. Calmly tell her that that behavior is wrong, and was unnecessary. Ask her how she feels and don't put her down for feeling that way. Guide her on the right way to handle the situation. Give her lots of kisses if she'll let you, hug, and overuse "I love you." Also let her know that it's ok not to like you right now, because you didn't like doing that very much either. But You still love her anyway. Remind her of how beautiful and special she is. Let her pick something for the next, whether it be breakfast, or where she wants to take a walk. Love is the most important ingredient in this mess. It hurts, I know, and it's hard to keep a level head when your child is flipping the hell out. There's just nothing you can do until they've figured it out on their own, and then rationalize the situation in a way they can understand. I know it was hard for you two to handle me growing up. Believe me, it was hard BEING me in all of that. Having this raw emotion controlling you, not knowing where it came from, why it was there, or what was happening? Or even understanding exactly why you're confused? Looking to your parents for help and they just didn't have the answers was heartbreaking. I understand fully. It took me 25 years to figure only part of it out, and I have to live with it everyday! I can't escape it even if I wanted to. I've had to learn the hard way how to not necessarily CONTROL my emotions, but how to balance them. When do I express my frustration? When do I remain calm? When can I cry? When is it ok to yell at someone. My attitude gets the better of me more often than not, but I'm a work in progress. And now having a dual perspective on it, as exhausting and gut wrenching as it is, It's helped me be the mom I need to be, and the woman God wants me to be.

The Shadowed Heart

Hello out there...
Another long pause between posts... This is actually an abridged comment I had posted to facebook that kind of spilled out of me after reading an article called, 21 Things Nobody Tells You About Being Depressed. It was a hard article to read, but it was helpful to see myself in something written by someone who doesn't know I exist. Even though I know that there are other's like me, this depression has me so isolated at times... I've been battling this "demon" inside of me practically my entire life. Between emotional and physical abandonment, rejection, and abuse, it's been hard to walk through life. My sister had responded to my appreciation of her sharing this article with a brief overview of her struggles since the birth of her two children, and that is when I vomited this nonsensical testimonial of insanity that now lays before you.
And I understand the post pardum. I truly don't recall much of Elizabeth's first year and a half. I was in a total fog. Allyson, will always be a baby in my eyes, but Lizzie will always be a toddler.. frown emoticon Lizzie was so tough, and I felt terrible about the life I was giving her. Mommy and daddy always fighting, living with his grandparents, jobless, penniless, unable to feed her... hell I couldn't even give birth to her! And I was utterly alone. I had next to no help, and constantly judged for every decision I made in her life. I went days without sleep, and couldn't when I tried. The first two months involved sleeping in a recliner because my c-section hurt so damn bad. The first two hours home was spent stuck on the bed unable to get up. No one came to check on me, no one cared. I was isoalted and alone with this little human that needed me, and I couldn't give her what she deserved.

Then alice came out of left field into our lives. And I tried to give birth to her, bur the doctors didn't want to wait. She was much easier, but we started off alone in the hospital room. The very same day I had given birth to her, I had to get up repeatedly to take care of her because no one was there by my side. There were more important things than the life I had carried. And it didn't get much better. Living in that motel infested with roaches, working full time trying to feed her naturally, and trying to balance it all onto my shoulders. Going to jail before she had turned six months while attempting to protect my family. Having the whole world turn their back on you because you're not what they wanted.

Constantly ending up being somoene else's mistake. Employers regret hiring me, people regret knowing me, Men regret loving me. Family regrets being related to me. It's been an endless battle. Long since forgotten memories suddenly hit, and you have to fight past them a second time. Standing on your own to feet to find everyone left you there to stand alone. Having to repeatedly pick yourself up because you're not ready to let go the teeniest little slice of understanding in this world, even if he never truly did, then have the entire world look down on you for not giving up...

You know how I am, I take every opinion, every look, every word very seriously. They trouble me to the core and rock my entire life into disarray. The only thing that has changed within me is I've learned to swallow most of it, instead of blowing it up. Not the healthiest way, but I'm trying to work my way through it. The people I've met, and the jobs I've bounced through have taught me a lot. The struggles I have faced on a day to day basis remind me that God is always there giving me the strength to take that next step, whether I think I can or not.

I used to walk hours a day while pregnant just to get what needed to be done accomplished... I left an abusive family, and slept in my car for six months. I went to jail to defend myself.... I survived being abandoned, cheated, hurt, pushed, assaulted, attacked, put down, let down, strung along, lies, and defeat. I carried two angels into this world who are the greatest blessing a girl could ever ask for. If it were not for them I would not be here typing this out. I nearly succeeded in killing myself once before in a tiny house here in Holland. After the mission had kicked me out, he'd used me and threw me to the trash. I had no where to go, and no one to turn to, and I almost did it. I'd swalloed nearly that whole bottle that day... I counted around 28 tylenol pms... I threw them up, and lay there just to be judged by him the next day, and treated like a druggie trying to get high. A week later I met my estranged husband only to isolate myself even further into my own personal hell of judgement and regret.

It's taken a lot of me just to get where I am today. I don't have much, but I appreciate all I have. I may not have money, or a fancy car, but I'm no longer someone used napkin. I am an independent woman, who's rasing two independent girls, who are going to know every minute of every day how much I love them, and that no person on this earth can bring them down. That just because people don't understand how they tick, doesn't mean that there is something wrong with them, it just means that they are on another plain of awesome. 

I'm still not comfortable in my skin. Voices haunt me on a daily basis. I struggle to get dressed in the morning because I don't feel pretty. I struggle to do my job answering calls because I feel like I'm not smart enough. I hate being around other people because I feel so unable to fit in, that I break a little more each time I'm cut from a conversation. I am scared to go to school for music because I feel like no matter how hard I try I will never be good enough...

Making it Through the Storm

Hello fellow night-owls, It's me again. I know, woohoo, right?

   Well, as I was trying to sleep (go figure), I reflected upon the days conversations, about convictions, and about the past. I know, heavy stuffs right there... I can't go into details about my work, but I had a call, that I wasn't very experienced with, and I had to take it one step at a time, and it was very tedious. Suffice to say, that by the end, I was unsure if I wanted to cry, scream or laugh.

   The call latened my break by an hour. I snacked for a moment, and then I had the sudden urge for fresh air. I walked outside and paced a moment. I then had the urge to pray. I looked up at the heavens, where in residence was a crescent moon, and a handful of stars. In my heart I prayed to God. "Thank you for the perseverance to maintain my calm, the strength to move forward, and the guidance to find my way. I was not perfect, but I was able to do what was asked of me without losing myself, and all worked out in the end. I would not be here if it was not the for unconditional love You have for me. I do not deserve this love, but I am forever grateful that You have chosen me to be Your's."

    Afterwards I walked inside, and was able to move on, and be happy, which is new for me. Normally I carry the weight of the coulda, shoulda, woulda's with me unnecessarily for an indeterminate amount of time. Not this time. This time I was able to see the good, learn from the bad, and just be proud of what I had managed to accomplish in such a short time. On top of it all, it was turned into a lesson for the everyone, including our team lead. I now know what I need to do, in case I encounter a difficult situation like this again.

   God is teaching me perseverance, and to put my trust in Him. I need to learn that he has my best interest at heart, and he'll never let me fall so far that I'm irreparable.

   While I lay here, reflecting upon that, I was also thinking about conviction. The convictions God has placed upon our hearts. They themselves are a lesson in trust, perseverance, and strength. Some people truly feel they should not work on Sundays, other's feel like abstinence is their key. For me, in deciding that my marriage is not God's design, and that I need to focus on my relationship with my Heavenly Father, and less on earthly affections is my conviction. I am still married to my husband. And until I am legally divorced, I need to remember to focus on myself, my goals, and get me straightened out. I have built a lot of dark corners in my heart, and God is helping me shine a light on it.I truly believe that if I can sacrafice my wants, for his design, that he will reward me with my hearts desire of being loved, of finding my equal.

    The man I always saw in my heart. That true man of harmony with my soul. Who's not afraid to be silly in public, that just wants to live life in the world, but also ready to hide away together. Someone to be a shining example of manhood for  my two daughters, but realizes he cannot replace their daddy. Someone who wants a family of his own while including mine. A man not afraid to share his faith, and to spiritually guide his family home. Someone who's not afraid to tell it like it is, but also will help me get to where I need to go. Someone I can express myself to, without putting me down for feeling that way. Who realizes I'm broken, but instead of just excusing my behavior, helps me reconcile that part of me. I know he's out there waiting for me, and I know with time, I will be ready for him, as long as I work to be more Christ-like.

   For now, it's my girls, and myself, and I am truly happy with that, because I know God is always there, teaching me another lesson, so that I, in turn, can teach my daughters the right path. So I can also share my experiences with the world, and maybe light someone else's darkness with the fire in my soul.

   Most of what the secular world hears are the false testimonies of people who only see fault in others, but are too ashamed to look at themselves. They want to blame the world for the problems that befell them. I'm am not perfect. There has only been one perfect person in this world, and He died so we can remember him, and follow his example so we can better this place we call home. If people truly followed the word, they would never wish death upon each other, nor hardship. People would pray for blessing and peace for all, no matter the offense.

   I have been recently hurt by multiple people that I chose to let into my life. I knew I shouldn't, that there was a risk of being hurt, but I truly felt like they needed help, and I needed to make the sacrafice. Sadly, they abused my kindness, and I had to let them go, and all I can do is pray that they see the error of their ways, that they make peace, and begin living a life in the light.

   I guess that is all I really needed to get off of my chest to night. So peace be with you, and have a good night.

The Lost Path

Hello non-existent fans!

    Just a bit of a thought today.... Have any of you lost your path so bad that you don't know where to start looking? You've been second guessing your second guessed second guesses that it buried in a pile of doubt.
   Now, I know I'm suppose to let go and let God, but how? Marriage is a sacred right; we're suppose to give all we have for those who need it, and ask for it; we're suppose to endlessly pray....
   How, I guess would be my question at this point? I've had prayer explained to me so many times, and you would think I would know how to truly pray.... I know of the silent prayers in my heart. I feel those on a daily basis....
   Another problem, is we're expected to know the bible, but the bible does nothing for me unless someone explains the invisible text, the hebrew text, and the greek. Like "helper suitable," sounded like slave labor to me. After a sermon that explained the true meaning behind that phrase, which is properly called, "Ezer Kenegdo,"

                             [עֵזֶר כְּנֶגְדּוֹ]

I want that tattooed to my forearm in white ink to constantly remind me of what type of person we are called to be.

   As awesome as that is, there's never that person here beside me. I need more than the weekly meeting that I have to watch on my computer while yelling at two kenegdos that I happened to be gifted. So what then? I'm floundering here.... I truly need counsel...

   You see, for me, I find comfort in a melody; I seek peace in the lyric. God speaks to me through the artists He's placed into this world, and that's a message I see clearer than any other.

  "I am, holding on to you...

In the middle of the storm

I'm holding on, I am."

"I'd be packing my bags with a need to stay

I'd be chasing every breeze that blows my way

I'd be building my kingdom just to watch it fade... away...

That's me without you..."

"He is the hurricane,

I am the tree,

Bending beneath the weight of his love and mercy."

"You'll overcome it

Stay in the fight 'til the final round

You're not going under

But God is holding you right now!

You might be down for a moment

Feeling like it's hopeless,

That's when he reminds you,

You'll overcome it!

You'll over come it!"

"Hold on, to me as we go

As we roll down, this unfamiliar road.

And though this wave, keeps stringing us along

Jut know you're not alone

'Cuz I'm going to make this place your home...."

 

   He speaks to me through all of this music. Secular or Christian, there's always a message. I see it as clear as others see angels. Even harder songs, like "Take the Bullets Away," speaks a message to my soul.... So how am I to find guidance in a monotone, black and white book, that I can only take as black and white?

   Where do I go to for my answers? My questions are so trivial and repetitive... If you know me, you know that I am the very definition of insane.... I keep doing the same thing like a broken record, expecting a different result, and it breaks me that I cannot pull myself out of this rut... I've tried finding a music group I could join, but I'm not good enough for that...

   I see all the potential in the world... I see the possibilities of my life if I were to choose a different road.... I've littered mine with so much self-loathing, hatred, frustration, regret, doubt, and negativity, that's there's no road left.... I fear I've left it a long time ago, and I'm just hopelessly lost.... I'm so angry with myself for being so stupid to walk this far away in the dark...

   I can no longer see the guiding light... I know what it looks like, I know how to get there, but I cannot find my way... Help me....

Life's Little Lessons

Hello Inter-strangers.
   It's been while, hasn't t? I'm not very good with commitment, as you can see. But as creativity would have it, brilliance struck me while trying to sleep. Naturally I can never shut my brain off... especially when it's time to sleep.
   You see, while trying to render myself unconscious a mere hour or two before my spawn are due to wreak havoc upon the world, I recalled an incident that had transpired between my oldest and myself. I should have seen it coming, and in a lot of ways I had. Then again,I guess I expected I had a lot more time ahead of me before it would occur.
   This incident that had happened was during bedtime. Naturally, it's a difficult time for any family with a 3 year-old. It's true in our house since she gets bounced between my roof, and her great-grandparents. The GG's can't stand the kids crying, so they let them stay awake, then bicker at me the next day about how they couldn't sleep because the kids wouldn't go to bed.
   On any given day when I come to receive them, I have no idea where Lizzie is sleeping. She has her own room with her own bed, but that is usually the last place she'll ever be found.
   Not true in my home. She's old enough to sleep on her own, and she has her sister in there with her, so she's not alone. Mommy and Daddy are right outside, protecting her, and the closet light is on, so she won't be in the dark. That's still not enough for her.She claims to want to sleep with us, but we both know this trick, so we refuse, and tell her to lay down.
   That night was actually not as difficult as most nights. She was still trying to beg her way out. Any excuse she could think of would be used, and we'd explain why it would not work. When I shut the door and sit down, I can hear her talk to herself. Something about "...Mommy and Daddy..." and what sounded like, "Me no like...." which preceded a sentence that I could have sworn sounded like, "I want Mamaw and Papaw [rhymes with heehaw]."
   Perplexed I shrugged it off and continued to sit quietly while trying to listen to the goings on in the bedroom, waiting for my cue to put her back into bed. Like clockwork, I didn't have to wait for long. I heard her footsteps behind the door, and could almost see her hiding behind it. She cleared away all doubt with one clear, and heartbreaking sentence.

"I don't like Mommy..."

   I called her out of her room, and told her she needed to lay down, it was bedtime. Then she looked me dead in the eye with those sapphires of her's so filled with intent, and disdain.

"I don't like Mommy."

   My heart shriveled up and died in that moment. Did my three-year-old really just say that? Could this really be true? I spend every moment of our life together, telling her how much I love her, how proud I am of her, how she made my world a better place just by being in it. I'm far from perfect, and I'll never get that best mom award we all secretly want; but am I really so terrible a person, that my own pre-pre-schooler, doesn't like me? 

  For an instant is tore me up inside. For a second I forgot all reason. I even wanted to dive off of the balcony for a fraction. I'd failed. I am the worst mother in the world. My own child, my flesh and blood, hates me.

   Then, I remembered the truth. I cried it out in my husband's arms for a few minutes, and then wiped my tears. I put myself back together, and I marched into her room, and sat next to her as she lay in bed. I looked her in the eye, and used this as a teaching moment for the both of us.

   "Lizzie, what you said, about not liking me really hurt. It was really mean of you to try and hurt me like that. Honestly, I don't care if you like me or not. It's not my job to be liked; it's my job to be your mother. Like it or not, I'm your mother, and I'm trying to raise you right, and that means following direction whether you like it or not. I understand, Mommy gets frustrated a lot, and I lose my temper too easily, but God is working with me on that, just like He and I are trying to help you grow. We never stop learning as we get older, we only have new lessons to learn around the next corner. I love you so much, and I just want you to know that I want nothing but the best for you."

   I gave her a hug, and I left her room, and all was quiet for the rest of the night.

Hey World, it's me again. Not quite the epic beginning I was hoping for but what do you expect when you decide to write your first blog during break at work?
   Anywho, I'm just stting at home, on a Friday night, tired and missing work beause the weather was too bad for my husband to drive me, plus with his battery dying everytime he shuts off his car, Ijust couldn't risk him being stuck. With my van at the repair shop, I'm without a car for the  time being until I can come up with $400. Bummer right?
   I love my job, which makes this hard for me. The people I work with can get on my nerves, irritate me, and just don't know when to back off, but that's why they are awesome. They pay enough attention to see something is up, and want to help. Outside of work I don't really have that too much. My co-workers are the closest friends I have. I let them all down tonght by not coming in. I can't wait to get my car back... I'm no good at relying on others.
   Like when my oldest was a baby.Those were some... no most... of the toughest days of my life. She was a cranky child with a mother who knew nothing about babies, but tried her best with next to no help. I still cry thinking about that time. Back then, my husband was the only one with a vehicle too, which always tends to happen in the winter for us. I needed out of the house away from his family, and he had things to do that we couldn't join him for, so he'd drop us off at Denny's. I'd sit there for hours with my laptop, playing games, trying to do something for myself, while taking care of my infant daughter. The first hour or two was fine. I had just enough cash for coffee for me, and food for her.
   Soon she grew tired, but with all the activity around her,she refused it. nothing could console her. I grew weary and frustrated,and angered my husband with pleas to go home soon. More than once I had an old lady reprimand me for being too busy to play games, that my daughter was obviously tired and needed to go home. It hurt so much that I was drowning there, alone, and instead of a life preserver, I got a bucket of ice dumped over my head. I had no family nearby, the house of ten miles away, the snow was coming down, and everyone there was mad at me. I tried to apologize, for my daughter being a child and doing what she does best, but I shouldn't have. I still do, because I'm still struggling as a mom. Now I never get to see them, and I'd give anything for those miserable days that dragged me through mud. Because mixed in there are their smiles, their love, their future memories that they're having without me. Someone else is raising my children, telling them Idon't love them because I don'tcome see them, all because I can't afford to get my van, Ican't afford child care, and I want nothing more to never miss another day with them like I'm suppose to as their mother. I am sitting alone in my apartment cuddling with my daughter's dog toy that she forgot the last time she was here. they blocks they left out still sit where they last played with them.i should never apologize for them. They are wonderful, amazing, stubborn, cranky, smartbutted little brats, and they're are allowed to be them, whether people like it or not.

Hello World.
   My name is Sccooper Daisy. I'm a mother in my mid-twenties, with two beautiful daughters, E and A. Elizabeth is 3, and Allyson is 1. I work in a factory and I love it. Third shift is  difficult, but I love the people I work with. They are cooky, entertaining, and multifacited.
   I currenly am separated from my husband but we are trying to work things out. He is a sex offender, so he can't live where i do.

Well back to work, ttyl!