Monday, August 30, 2010


I was laying in bed thinking....going back over the past 10 years of my life....of my children's lives.  I realize that there is a little part of me that still hates myself.  A part of me that is angry, mad and confused at everything that I allowed to happen.  It's almost backwards but Im most upset and angry at myself and not at him.  I hate what I have allowed my children to see and go through.  I hate the hurt that I have caused the people who mean the most to me in my life.  I'M ANGRY at ME!
I was asked to speak at a charity event some weeks ago.  I was scared and excited all at the same time.  It went better than I could of expected and I had some really important people there who shared it with me.  I chose for whatever reason not to take my children to this event so when I got home I wanted to let them know how excited I was at the outcome.  My two oldest children wanted me to read my speech to them and so I did.  The speech included an incident that had happen that I spoke about here in my blog.  It also spoke about how the charity had helped to save my life.  When I was done reading my speech I looked up to see both my children with tears in their eyes.  Had I made the wrong decision reading this to them?  I didn't mean to cause them any hurt or pain.  So I took this opportunity to sit down and talk to them about what it was they were feeling.  I have that outlet here to get it out and yeah they have been through counseling but I never really felt like they have fully opened up about how they feel.

My daughter explained to me that she was crying because in my story I was bleeding and she was sad that I was hurt.  She told me she was sorry that I was hurt and I just held her and told her I was ok now and that everything was gonna be ok.  My son was a little harder to get to open up.  He just stood there in front of me crying and all I could do was hold him till he was able to talk.  He replayed to me a night that he remembered.  As soon as he began to tell his story I knew exactly the night that he was speaking of.  You see I remember every night.......I remember it all and I know there is A LOT that he remembers too.  The night he spoke about William tried to take the kids from the house.  I remember him making them get into the car in the garage.  I took his keys because there was no way I was letting him leave with my children.  He came after me in the house and as I threw his keys across the room he pushed me face first into the wall.  He proceeded to find his keys while I got up and ran to the garage to get my children out the car.
I remember that night I remember bleeding holding my children in the yard so that he could not take them.  I remember it and now I know my son does too.
I continued to let him get it out and after all the tears were gone I started to explain to both of them why I talk about what happened to us.  I told them that I knew they were embarrassed and didn't want all their friend to know.  I said to them........."What if one of your friends at school is going through exactly the same stuff you went though don't you think it would help him if he knew he wasn't alone that he had someone he could talk to about it that knew and understood exactly what he was going though?"  I then said it's ok you guys don't have to talk about it with your friends but understand I talk about to to help others.
I also explained to them that nothing that happened was their fault and there was nothing they could of done.  My son has often said he had wanted to do something but was to afraid.  I looked him straight in his eyes and told him "YOU ARE MY HERO!"  I looked at both of them and told them they were my hero's that they made me stronger and that I was sorry they had to go through that.
That was a rough night and I felt good and bad.  Bad that I had made my children feel bad and cry but also good because we really had one of the best talks we have ever had.  I'm proud of them.  So here I am back looking at myself and angry at the time that they lost.  At the memories that they are forced to live with.  Sometimes I wish their little brains were like an Etch A Sketch and I could just shake em and erase it all.  I just hope that I continue to make the right decisions and continue to help them to heal.  I have so many angels in my life that continue to help me and I only hope to be that for them.  After all they are my heros. 

Friday, August 27, 2010

Guilt of the choice

Come, child. It's evening. Come to me
And sit with me once more.
Let's rock here while the others sleep.
Let's see-your brother's twelve;
The baby is seven years old now;
Your little sister's eight,
And I have not decided if I'll tell them about you.
And you, you would be thirteen this year.
I do not know your name.
The color of your eyes, or hair,
Or where, or how, to blame.
The fear was all, the fear of change,
For I saw change as loss.
Against my dreams, my plans, my life
You seemed so small a cost,
Not knowing how your presence
Altered how I felt and thought,
Not knowing how you changed me
In the mix the hormones brought.

And you were not a child to me
But sickness, pain, and fear-
But oh, I know, I know you now,
Now that these three are here!
Your scent, your weight within my arms,
Your head upon my breast-
I did not know these things when I decided what was best.

And I am lost and so confused
And don't know how to feel,
For you, who were an illness,
Every year become more real;
Your brother and your sisters,
They proclaim you as they grow.
They make it harder still to face
The coldest truth I know:
That knowing-feeling-only
What I knew and felt back then,
I cannot say I would not make
This saddest choice again.

Oh! My little lost unknown,
My first and neverborn,
Forgive the ignorance that sent you
To the dark, unmourned!
And no, it isn't every day
I find your shadow here;
Most times I'm far too busy
For reflection or for tears,
But sometimes, when the children sleep

And I have time alone,
I sit down in the dark, and rock,
And bring my baby home.

Monday, August 2, 2010

A seed is Planted!

I was asked about a month ago if I would be willing to speak at a charity event for the shelter me and the kids were in when I left my abuser. The idea excited me and scared me at the same time. I want to talk about my story I want to help others and at this point this is the only way I know how. So while I was excited for the change to get to do this I was terrified as I SUCK at public speaking. So I sat down to write what I was going to say and I just went blank. What am I gonna say to a room full of strangers? Would they even care what I had to say? Would they judge me.....look down on me? I had to look past all of that and understand that if just one person in that room would hear my story and be touched or relate in some small way then that would be worth it to me. You see I'm a nobody.....I've been used to being a nobody my whole life but if I know anything it's that there is a reason for everything. God let me go through what I went through for a reason. He brought me through for a reason. He gave me a story to tell and this is my purpose.
So I started to write about me......a subject I know all to well.
So the night came that I was to "deliver" my speech.  I put on a basic black dress as I knew most people at this charity even would be dressed up and I didn't wanna stand out.  I had invited several people to attend and was thankful when a group of ladies joined me from work.  I took the mic in my hand and I stood before a room of at least 100 people shaking in my pretty high heels.  I was sort of in a haze throughout the entire speech but I did it.  After I was finished I let our a deep sigh of relief that it was over.  I was proud of myself I had go through it......I did it but would probably NEVER do that again!  Well that was until I started having women come up to be wanting to shake my hand ....... give me a hug .......... or just simply wanting to say "Thank You!"  I really had no idea what type of impact my words could have on other people.  Strangers at that.  When I left that event I was so proud of myself and I had finally realized that maybe.....just maybe I COULD make a difference....That I did have purpose and so the seed was planted.