I can't be unbroken. I can't have my baby boy back. I have my son, but he will never be a baby again. I have dreams, when I CAN sleep, of all of my children being toddlers or infants or very small children, and it kills me when I need to wake up to roll over, and I realize my Gracie is dead, my son is 44 years old and I can never go back and be who I was meant to be.
The motherhood I had in my heart was ripped away for no sane reason, I was smacked down, battered and broken, every damned time I tried to defend myself, I got beaten down verbally or with fists and with knives held to me throat by one damned parent or another. HOW DARE they even be called parents?????
I want my baby back day and night, and it hurts me and keeps me from being whole. The lies destroyed me, and it took so long to get my truth back, and time is something that can never return to me. Yes, I have my son, but when he says "Mom", he is usually refering to her. My tormenter, my punisher, my destroyer.
I am Mom. I am crying and moaning for the sweet baby nobody would ever let me call son.
I can't stop crying.
I got angry at my computer for being so slow to get me to where I can pound out these words. Nothing takes the hurt away.
Yes, my pain from Gracie's murder never fades either, and it seems impossible to have this much pain inside.
I know for sure now, why the scriptures say that Mary was blessed, and why we say she was covered with special protection from conception in her mother's womb....... the horrible way women and children are treated in this world, this whole world, as slaves, and sex objects and possessions and kicked around like filth........ the damage done to women and girls is an atrocity that damages the soul so deeply there is no way God could allow the same garbage to happen to HIS son's mother, not for a day, or an hour or a minute....... Mary was blessed by God's grace, and her life was not perfect, but she was undefiled. How astounding it must be to be so absolutely loved as to be undefiled!
How many eons would God have to wait for a child to be born and just loved and protected and not harmed and destroyed by the evil of this world? He knew how disgusting the humans had become, and we could not wait another generation without his intervention. We needed Jesus then, and we sure need him now! Now girls at not just unsafe in their homes, but pushed out into the world unsupervised and predators snatch them up like baby lambs in a meat market. Everyone has blinders on. Our children are NOT safe in our back yards, our playgrounds, our schoolyards and they are not safe in their bedrooms at home or the school houses they go to and their friends are never strong enough, smart enough, fast enough, to save them from the wolf at the door.
We need God to get through our days. We need God to get through our nights. And the evil one creeps into my dreams and kicks me to the curb a few more rounds. Hell can't be soon enough for him.
I have to get out the bottle of Holy Water, and pray again and beg for a moment's peace. A moment where I can rest and know that I won't be that infant being molested by my father while my mother gets her much needed sleep. A moment when I won't be the two year old who is plopped up onto her baby brother's changing table and raped by the bastard who has no right to ever be called Daddy. A moment when I won't be the four year old, tied up in the stable on the cold ground with a knife at my throat because I said "I hate what you're doing." and refused to say I liked it. I refused to lie. I would rather die, and could very well have died for it.
A moment when I will not be the seventh grader going to school dressed to hide the shame and never understanding what was really happening.
A moment when I can hold my newborn son, and name him, and tell him "I'm your Mommy".
He knows I love him. He can never know my pain. and he never should.
He never should have been left alone with my mother's brother, time after time to be molested by that bastard! She knew better. He belonged with me, and I belonged with him.
My daughters deserved to know their brother and not think he was their uncle. My neice deserved to be free from the family garbage falling down on her, as my girls needed to be without bastard 'father/stepfather' men and the whole world full of bastards poised to leap on them, more lambs to the wolves.
I stood up for them. I fought for them. I never had a day go by when I wasn't fighting for their safety. And I took them to therapists, and talked truth with them and let them own their anger and respected their right to kick back at creeps and wolves and devils.
None of should have to.
God, save us all.
Showing posts with label anguish. Show all posts
Showing posts with label anguish. Show all posts
Tuesday, July 12, 2011
Friday, May 6, 2011
Grief
I know grief is somewhat off-topic, but all of us have some sort of grief in our lives. Grieving our lost innocence, our lost hopes, our cruel scars.......
But this is going to be about my daughter's death. Gracie was only 15 years old, it was July 4th 1997. I had gone to an old friend's wedding in Virginia, and Gracie was supposed to stay with our next door neighbors.
She went home alone to take a nap, and when she got up, she realized the neighbors had gone to the fireworks at the beach without her.
She walked to their parents home about a mile away to seek a ride, and after making some phone calls, nobody was willing to drive her, so she headed out hitch-hiking. Somebody in a white van picked her up, and shortly afterwards threw her out the back of the van at 55+ mph, and she was struck by the following car, and dragged 200 yards before the driver realized it was a person they hit. The driver panicked and flipped their car over in a ditch.
Grace was dead imediately.
On my trip to Virginia for the wedding, as I was riding the greyhound bus,
I saw a car completely engulfed in flames in the slow lane, and a horrible feeling came over me. I wanted to turn around and go home. Bus drivers don't do that though, so I continued on the trip.
My friend and her family met me at the bus, and we went to see fireworks near their home. around 10 pm, I suddenly started having my period, 2 weeks early. Again, I felt something was really wrong. I had no way to go home that night, so I stayed for the wedding as planned.
After the wedding on July 5th, I drove my friends car as they rode in the back seat, and we headed to Myrtle Beach where they were honeymooning.
I lived about 15 miles from there. When we arrived at their hotel, I phoned my next door neighbors to come and get me, P. E. said he was too drunk so he sent someone else to get me. The ride back was strangely quiet, and the driver insisted we stop at his parents house. When we came inside, I suddenly felt like I was walking through heavy fog. There were lots of people there, and my pastor and I was introduced to the coroner.
They told me there had been an accident...... Grace was dead. They had already done an autopsy. They lied to me and told me that she had just been standing in the highway and it was an unavoidable accident. They suggested she must have been on drugs. I told them they were wrong, she was not using drugs and would never stand in the road. It was shortly after 10 pm July 4th when she died.
The following days were a blur to me. I had to be heavily medicated and could hardly walk without holding on to someone or something.
It was years before I started to function in anything like a normal way.
I have never slept normally since then. When I sleep, I have nightmares.
Even a short nap like earlier today, and I have dreams of Grace and images of death.
I try to get out of sleep and get something done around here. It is crippling.
**************************************
Other grief - nightmare things are attached to my childhood abuse.
If you have read the rest of the blog it will come as no surprise.
I have finally stopped having the nightmares about faceless people stealing my baby boy, it plagued me constantly since 1967 when J.F. was born until we finally dealt with the truth of his birth in october 2009.
42 years of nightmares and visiting baby stores to look at baby boy clothes..... and sometimes hearing a small child cry [inside my head like interior locution]. My mind was trying for years to push me to remember.
There is a lot of grief, and anguish. Now I am struggling with anger at my mother, for not only covering up my father's crimes, but for forcing me to live a lie and treating me like crap. My parents are in my nightmares too, and I just want them to go away. They just can't stay dead. Sometimes I dream of them climbing out of their graves......... and the rest of the dream I am trying to get them back into the ground.
It's all grief.
But this is going to be about my daughter's death. Gracie was only 15 years old, it was July 4th 1997. I had gone to an old friend's wedding in Virginia, and Gracie was supposed to stay with our next door neighbors.
She went home alone to take a nap, and when she got up, she realized the neighbors had gone to the fireworks at the beach without her.
She walked to their parents home about a mile away to seek a ride, and after making some phone calls, nobody was willing to drive her, so she headed out hitch-hiking. Somebody in a white van picked her up, and shortly afterwards threw her out the back of the van at 55+ mph, and she was struck by the following car, and dragged 200 yards before the driver realized it was a person they hit. The driver panicked and flipped their car over in a ditch.
Grace was dead imediately.
On my trip to Virginia for the wedding, as I was riding the greyhound bus,
I saw a car completely engulfed in flames in the slow lane, and a horrible feeling came over me. I wanted to turn around and go home. Bus drivers don't do that though, so I continued on the trip.
My friend and her family met me at the bus, and we went to see fireworks near their home. around 10 pm, I suddenly started having my period, 2 weeks early. Again, I felt something was really wrong. I had no way to go home that night, so I stayed for the wedding as planned.
After the wedding on July 5th, I drove my friends car as they rode in the back seat, and we headed to Myrtle Beach where they were honeymooning.
I lived about 15 miles from there. When we arrived at their hotel, I phoned my next door neighbors to come and get me, P. E. said he was too drunk so he sent someone else to get me. The ride back was strangely quiet, and the driver insisted we stop at his parents house. When we came inside, I suddenly felt like I was walking through heavy fog. There were lots of people there, and my pastor and I was introduced to the coroner.
They told me there had been an accident...... Grace was dead. They had already done an autopsy. They lied to me and told me that she had just been standing in the highway and it was an unavoidable accident. They suggested she must have been on drugs. I told them they were wrong, she was not using drugs and would never stand in the road. It was shortly after 10 pm July 4th when she died.
The following days were a blur to me. I had to be heavily medicated and could hardly walk without holding on to someone or something.
It was years before I started to function in anything like a normal way.
I have never slept normally since then. When I sleep, I have nightmares.
Even a short nap like earlier today, and I have dreams of Grace and images of death.
I try to get out of sleep and get something done around here. It is crippling.
**************************************
Other grief - nightmare things are attached to my childhood abuse.
If you have read the rest of the blog it will come as no surprise.
I have finally stopped having the nightmares about faceless people stealing my baby boy, it plagued me constantly since 1967 when J.F. was born until we finally dealt with the truth of his birth in october 2009.
42 years of nightmares and visiting baby stores to look at baby boy clothes..... and sometimes hearing a small child cry [inside my head like interior locution]. My mind was trying for years to push me to remember.
There is a lot of grief, and anguish. Now I am struggling with anger at my mother, for not only covering up my father's crimes, but for forcing me to live a lie and treating me like crap. My parents are in my nightmares too, and I just want them to go away. They just can't stay dead. Sometimes I dream of them climbing out of their graves......... and the rest of the dream I am trying to get them back into the ground.
It's all grief.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)