My Daughter is my Hero

I wish I could say that I am brave enough. That I have faith enough. That I couldn't possibly be the kind of person who would let one experience, one horrible, life-altering, no-going-back experience, change the fact that I am able to give love to a child in need. 

I wish I could say that I dont have a paralyzing fear and a ocean-sized resentment towards the entire idea of bringing a child, a child that I did not birth from my own body, into our home. That I would be able to not let it stop me from being a foster parent.

But today I can't. I honestly cannot say that I will ever be able to foster again. The toll of my first attempt to help... to love... to nurture... to protect... to teach... to be that light in the dark... it came with too great a cost.

And as much as I would give to be it, I am not the person who has to carry the immeasurable weight of this new reality. For whatever reason, one I cannot even begin to fathom, my precious baby was tasked with that burden. A yoke that will forever be tethered around her neck. That she NEVER in a million years should have EVER had to bare. A reality that is just so unfair and even more unforgiving. It chewed us up, spat us back out, and left us there to die. But die, we did not.

She is strong. She is brave. She didnt quit. She didnt give up. Even though I know so many times she wanted to. And I wouldn't have even been angry with her if she had. None of this is her fault. I know what she's feeling. I UNDERSTAND HER PAIN. I just can't feel it for her.

She has worked so very hard to rise up out of the ash; like a phoenix, she is slowly being reborn.  She is learning to breathe again. To laugh again. To live again. For the longest time, I saw no light in her eyes. I feared it was permanently extinguished. That she was just gone, replaced by the shell of a person who has been through something so unspeakable. Yet, some how, buried deep under all the devastation and despair inside of her, a small glowing ember remained. And when she was ready, it sparked and lit a flame. Each step of progress she made was another log she added to the flames. She has carefully tended that fire, meticulously doing everything she was taught to do. And she is miraculously healing herself from the inside out. She is one of my heroes. 

Rape

Sexual assault

Victim

Survivor

I have been in every single definition of those words, as have many other women. Sadly I think it applies to more women than not. And now I have to add new words, and their definition is by far, hands down, the hardest to be.

Parent of a victim of rape.

If I think on it too long it feels like I will drown in the guilt and shame that I feel inside for not being there to protect her when she needed me the most. For trusting someone I shouldn't have. For unknowingly putting my own children in danger while trying to save another. 

A little bit about myself...

I am a 41 year old woman, who two years ago, had to quit my beloved career and file for disability because I have a congenital, chronic, and progressive medical condition that has caused both of my weight-bearing Sacroiliac joints to fail. This leaves me bedridden many days, as being upright causes severe pain in my tailbone/hip area. I also am a recovering drug addict, and on May 24th I will be celebrating 7 years since I have stuck a needle in my arm to get high. I currently have a 'complicated' relationship status, as I have been separated from my husband, let's call him W, for 9 years. We have both continued to go on with our lives as though we are divorced. We were married in November of 2001, and were together 10 years before we separated. Our marriage had so many ups and downs, so many hard times, a lot of them being caused by his bad decisions. Eventually I just had to call it... time of death: January 6th, 2011. 

As strange as it sounds, we stay married so that if something happens to him such as a drug overdose leading to him being in a coma for a short time (which has happened once already) I will be the one to have power of attorney rights for medical decisions. He trusts me to make the right choices, as I know what his wishes are and he knows that I will abide by them no matter what. We still have love for each other, a mutual respect, but we just aren't good together.

We had one child together, a little girl that we shall call C, born January of 2003. I also had a son, I'll call him M, from a previous relationship, born in May of 2000, but my husband raised him from the time he was 15 months old. He was a good dad to them, when he was around and not on drugs. After the separation, however, that relationship was destroyed. The reason my husband decided to stop having anything to do with my son is still unknown to this day. There are many things that I have questioned over the years. For whatever reason, he just cannot be truthful when answering. I finally just quit asking. 

I have basically been a single mother since my children were born as my husband's presence and familial participation was very unreliable. My son's father was no help either. He was removed from the picture when M was 11. I often had to work two jobs because my husband was 'in between jobs' a lot of the time. And because of that, I missed out on a lot of my kids' early years. Big regrets there. And also a lot of anger and resentment. I am still working on forgiving him for that. 

My First Time

My first time...

This blog is being created for me to have an outlet that I so desperately need. A safe place to express myself. My thoughts and ideas, both positive and negative. A place that I can be real, truthful, no holds barred. Just 100% me. 💓 




**SIDE NOTE: PLEASE DO NOT GO BY THE PUBLISH DATE FOR MY BLOG. I WANT THEM IN ORDER FROM OLDEST TO NEWEST, SO I HAVE TO ADJUST THE PUBLISH DATES BACKWARDS. CRAZY THAT THEY DON'T HAVE A SORT OPTION.**

No medicine=no degree

Honestly, I had never had to desire or want to be a mother. My life's dream was to go to LSU's veterinary program, which was the best vet school in the country at that time. I had always planned to open my own AFFORDABLE 24-hour vet clinic and rescue. There would be no time for kids because I would be taking care of animals day and night. But as hard as I tried, college just wasn't my forte. I have ADD and without my medication, it was like trying to learn 15 different foreign languages all at the same time. Impossible. 

My first college attempt at the local community school (I started out there to get my prerequisites out of the way so I would not have to take out as much in student loans at LSU) did NOT go well. The first semester I sort of did okay, but the second semester was where I spiraled. Started hanging with the wrong crowd, doing things I shoudn't have been doing. I ended up making many horrible life choices. I never got caught, and for that I am so thankful. Because it doesn't matter how sorry you are that you did something wrong, you still get punished for it. And once I stopped doing those things, I was actually very sorry. I tried 2 more times to go to college. Still do not have a degree, so that should tell you something. 

To my daughter...

I wish I could wash it all away for you. I wish I could feel these feelings for you. I wish I could swaddle you up like I did when you were a baby and make it all better. Just. Like. That.

But I can’t.

Because you’re older now. You’re growing so so fast.. Things are so much more complicated. Life is so much more difficult. And you are figuring that out for yourself. And it hurts.

I can’t make it all better now, like I could when you were one or two. I can’t kiss your boo boo and make it go away. All I can do is listen. And hold you. And tell you I get it. All I can do is share what wisdom I have collected in my decades on this earth, and hope that it helps.

The hardest thing I have learned as a mother is that you are not me. And I am not you. I have to let you feel your own pain as much as it kills me. Because it’s your pain.

But I want you to know that I will always be here. I will always listen. I will always hold you while you cry. I will never judge. You can tell me anything. You can share your deepest hurt. You gravest fear. Your most mortifying disappointment, and I will love you. I will help you however I can. I will take your pain in my hands and try to make sense of it with you. Because you, my love, are my heart. And when you ache, I ache.

I love you a sky full of stars, my most precious little love, 

Momma

Slow Me Down, Lord

Slow me down, Lord.
Ease the pounding of my heart by the quieting of my mind. 
Steady my hurried pace with a vision of the eternal reach of time. 
Give me, amid the confusion of the day, the calmness of the everlasting hills. 
Break the tensions of my nerves and muscles with the soothing music of the singing streams that live in my memory. 
Help me to know the magical, restoring power of sleep. 
Teach me the art of taking minute vacations - of slowing down to look at a flower, to chat with a friend, to pat a dog, to read a few lines from a good book.
Slow me down, Lord, and inspire me to send my roots deep into the soil of life's enduring values that I may grow toward the stars of my greater destiny

Please hear what I am NOT saying...

Do not be fooled by me. 

Don’t be fooled by the face I wear. 

For I wear a mask… a thousand masks…

Masks that I am afraid to take off

And none of them is me.

Pretending is an art that’s second nature with me

But don’t be fooled.

For God’s sake don’t be fooled!

I give you the impression that I am secure…

That all is sunny and unruffled with me, within as well without.

That confidence is my name and coolness my game.

That’s the water’s calm and I am in command.

And that I need no one.

But don’t believe me.

My surface may seem smooth, but my surface is my mask

Ever-varying and ever-concealing.Beneath lies no complacence.

Beneath lies confusion and fear and aloneness.

But I hide this.

I don’t want anybody to know it.

I panic at the thought of my weakness and fear being exposed.

That’s why I frantically create a mask to hide behind,

A nonchalant sophisticated façade,

To help me pretend, to shield me from the glance that knows.

But such a glance is precisely my salvation…

My only hope and I know it…

That is, if it’s followed by acceptance…

If it’s followed by love.

It is the only thing that can liberate me from myself…

From my own self-built prison walls…

From the barriers I so painstakingly erect.

It’s the only thing that will assure me of what I can’t assure myself…

That I am really worth something.

But I don’t tell you this, I don’t dare.

I am afraid to.

I am afraid your glance will not be followed by acceptance…

Will not be followed by love.

I am afraid you will think less of me,

that you’ll laugh, and your laugh would kill me.

I am afraid that deep-down I am nothing,

that I am just no good…

And that you will see this and reject me.

So I play my game, my desperate pretending game…

Walk with a façade of assurance without,

and a trembling child within.

So begins the glittering but empty parade of masks,

and my life becomes a front.

I will chatter to you in the suave tones of surface talk.

I tell you everything that is really nothing…

And I tell you nothing of what is everything…

Of what’s crying within me.

So when I’m going through my routine,

do not be fooled by what I’m saying.

Please listen

Carefully

,

and try to hear what I am not saying…

What I’d like to be able to say…

What for survival I need to say…

But what I cannot say.

I don’t like to hide.

I don’t like to play superficial phony games.

I want to stop playing them.

I want to be genuine, and spontaneous, and ME.

But you’ve got to help me.

You’ve got to hold out your hand…

Even when that’s the last thing I seem to want.

Only you can wipe away from my eyes the blank stare of the breathing dead.

Only you can call me into aliveness.

Each time you’re kind and gentle and encouraging…

Each time you try to understand because you really care…

My heart begins to grow wings…Very small wings…

Very feeble wings…

But still, they are wings!

With your power to touch me into feeling…

You can breathe life into me.I want you to know that.

I want you to know how important you are to me…

How you can be a creator—a honest-to-God creator—Of the person that is me…

if you choose to.

You alone can break down the wall behind which I tremble…

You alone can remove my mask…

You alone can release me from my shadow-world of panic and uncertainty…

from my lonely prison….

If you choose to.

Please choose to.

Do not pass me by.

I will not make it easy for you.

A long conviction of worthlessness builds strong walls.

The nearer you approach to me…

The blinder I many strike back.

It is irrational, but despite what the books may say about man…

I am often irrational.

I fight against the very thing I cry out for.

But I am told that love is stronger that strong walls…

And in this lies my hope.

Please try to beat down those walls…

with firm

hands…

but with gentle hands…

For a child is very sensitive.

Who am I you may wonder?

I am someone you know very well

For I am every man you meet.

And I am every woman you meet.