So I shared a gofundme…and I still recommend it. My youngest will use whatever donations to find themselves a home. My own safety is no longer an issue here. Theirs is not either, but They are no longer happy here. Which is fine.
Mental health issues erupted in my home, and when I pushed back they nearly blew the whole thing to Hell. That has been addressed. Appologies made and conversations had that needed to be. However, I am going to be making changes for my own happiness here. There will be a new studio for my crafts, and an office for my book work. This will take time. But I am willing to work towards it.
My daughter is actually too smart for my own good.
We were having a conversation and she got slightly aggravated with me. I know she probably phrased it slightly differently but the gist of what she said was that she had heard me tell her father that I don’t see him as the villain, and I don’t want him to be my hero. Her question was “well why the hell not? who rescues you?”
I don’t know how to explain to her that I don’t want to be rescued. I am my own hero…. and I tried to tell her that. She said that she had never seen me choose myself over them. I have always chosen the best for her and him. She said she didn’t understand. I chose the best for the best part of my life. How do I even begin to explain it?
She is my whole world. Don’t get me wrong, I love my other two children but I didn’t get to raise either of them… and then add in the two miscarriages I had before her. I can’t have any more children. I wanted a house full when I was younger. I found having her was enough.
She always seems to know what to say and when I just need her to be around. She has such a delightful eclectic taste in music and an artistic bent. She is so empathetic and she has a definite view of the world.
So, she is my whole reason to want to be a better person. And she gets mad at me for not being selfish.
Thanksgiving has always been a large feast of a meal for me.
I spend days ahead cooking.
Sometimes traditions change.
The last couple of years have been bad because I have not been able to do the big meal. So I am doing it again this year. With minor changes.
We have to adapt to changes or they will wipe us away.
One of the Changes for me is the inability to make my favorite dishes. We have several Diabetics at the table so making so many desserts is a bad idea. Since I cannot make it, I wonder what recipes you are making, or cannot make.
Yes I realize it is really early for this… but I kinda am in the mood for the conversation.
We do yule. It is a wonderful thing where we celebrate the time together more than anything else. Yes we do presents but we don’t make it a big deal. Most of my gifts to my daughter have been homemade for years. I try to get the rest of the family something that will make them smile.
So much of the people end up feeling like they have to go into debt to get the best gift for the holiday thing… for me the best thing about the holidays is that I get to see some of my family that are too far away to see otherwise.
So my daughter and I were talking. I told her I was happy that she was comfortable enough when the kitchen flooded to cuss at me. To me that feels like she was able to express herself without worrying that I would be angry about it. I am big on self expression, which should surprise no one. She said that her therapist encouraged her to use whatever language she felt the need to express the thoughts in her head. *This is where I should note that we really don’t know any other language except American English. We know a few smattering of words in other languages, but not enough to be a fluency of it’s own…but swearing…well…yeah We swear like sailors around here. She mentioned that my mom had said that swearing shows a lack of intelligence. I so completely disagree. I think that it often is looked down upon, but there are times when a good creative swear (note I said creative) shows more intelligence than not. And not always does the swear have to be dirty. One of my favorites is a foreign (for me) word that means shame on you.
I have tried to make my home a place that my kids can call to express anything. I don’t judge them for speaking their minds. They can literally tell me anything. I am their safe space. For me that is what home should be. It is not what all of us had.
I was going to do the usual poetry update today…but my kitchen sink busted last night…well a piece of it did. We have a hose attachment that allows us directly to use water (my dishwasher is a portable) and the hose busted. It is not going to be an expensive fix. Just was a panic at 2 in the morning because of the flooded kitchen. It got me thinking, much as most incidents like that do.
My daughter was the one who had found the flooded kitchen, and bless her she immediately went to work cleaning up the mess. She sent me messages to wake me up. She was comfortable enough to curse at me for not answering the phone (I was actually in a deep sleep for a change). I wonder if I would have ever been so with my mom.
We had a conversation while we were stuck at Walmart about what our favorite dinosaur was (hers is a Saurolophus, mine has always been a triceratops) and I adore the little things that I can get to share with her. (The dinosaur conversation was initiated due to a figit toy she had in her purse. A club tailed dino filled with sand that can be manipulated various ways.)
I don’t remember ever being comfortable enough talking to my mom about anything. My doctor finds my mom and I to be a funny topic. I told her (doctor) that My mom still is blaming me for a virus I had as a teenager. I had infantigo when I was around 11 or 12. Mom is still convinced that I caused it by picking at it. And even though I am in my late 40’s brought it up as I was going to cause myself to get it again. The doctor thinks it’s funny. It is a bit of the epiphany for me.
I always expect my daughter to be amazing. Even if she has a bad day, she is going to be amazing. Nothing can change my mind on that. My mom expects the worst about me. She always has, always will… and I have to stop letting her voice color my self view I have spent 47 years trying to be good enough for a woman who is never going to see me as adequate. Time to change my aim.
I last saw the man who has lived in my nightmares at around 9 or 10 years old. Still, he has made my life miserable not because he was actively in it, but because of what he did and the fact that when I finally got the courage to tell anyone… well they did not believe me. He said that they would not. So if he was right about that, what about the other things that he said? Was it all really my fault?
Biden just signed a Bill…I am so happy for it…it takes away the limit for how long you have to take your abuser to court. How long you have to get the world to see them for the piece of shit that they are… for some people that is a miracle.
For some of us…there is no justice.
I am not saying that just because he is dead. My abuser committed suicide just a few years ago…Don’t expect me to mourn him.
No, I am saying that because I can’t go back and get my family to see the truth. I will never be able to look at my self and think I am not deserving of the way that I was treated… why? Because I obviously missed something. Something that he saw.
My mom doesn’t understand. She asked me if she ever actually said that she didn’t believe me… no not in those words. She said that I must have been remembering it wrong. That I didn’t have the dates exactly right. Okay…I was supposed to handle the memories better. I see. I was supposed to get over it… because that is what you do right?
No, Justice doesn’t always come. But the Bill that Biden signed is a huge step in the right direction.
In 1989 I was 14. I had an adorable baby boy. The above picture was me and him on my graduation from high school 5 years later. September 1st my eldest child will be 33. He has two babies of his own. I just wanted to drop a happy birthday to that little boy…and maybe try not to feel old today.
So, my mommy messaged me around the beginning of June and said that she was coming to get me around the 18th and keeping me until the 28th. I was not asked if I wanted to go…but I do.. so I am going. I will have internet, but I don’t know what I am going to be doing. So this is your warning. I will not be posting anything during those 10 days…I don’t know if I am going to be able to get myself back to work before the 5th of July (due to a cookout that I decided was a good idea for the fourth) I will be back to posting after the fifth. so please excuse my random disappearance. Have fun and be nice to each other while I am gone…
Pattimouse 