The day I learned the truth

Every  life altering day I have experienced in this life always start it normal, mundane and like any other day of my life at whatever part of my past I am forced to know it didn’t end like any other day. Not when I had an emergency c-section ten weeks early, not when they told me my only child had Down’s syndrome or when she was taken from me time and time again. The days that keep me up at night are t those days though hecause they turned out to be happy days blessings plucked from God’s garden and given to me.

I am haunted by the day my father died and I lost my family shortly there after. I mean my entire family but got clean that year. Got my daughter back and I remember this brief moment of 6 months that I was happy and not content but joyful and  aware of how blessed I was. My relationship were better than they had ever been, I understood my child better than I ever imagined I could learn ezcept I didn’t really learn but simply know what she needed before she did sometimes.

I suppose my parents have known what I needed long before I finally stumble upon it. Unfortunately , every gut shot,  kidney shot, punch square to my orbital bone, because when it comes to you what has to be done and I know i can do it for myself if I cared enough about myself to follow through.

By then by that time I am in my own prison the one inside my mind. The capture  that has held me hostage and destroyed me slowly over years, every moment agony I can’t eacape with hours moments of relief. Then I had to pay for that relief. I was have been taxed on all my joy and each of my blessings coupled with  extreme pain, eroding me like the ocean erodes the sand, taking away our big beautiful beaches, something that brings joy to so many including me.

i used to be  rough around the edges, a tom boy who couldn’t admit I wanted to be pretty and do make up and shop for good clothes and he a beautiful girl  and yet strangely uncut and unquestionably myself. I didn’t filter my thoughts I said what I felt and it felt so much all the time so much that sleep was the escape I often longed for or my horse, riding my horse I escaped those feelings that I have had since I was a little girl. I am ugly bad not good or excellent at anything but mediocre at several things. I never have been obviously smart but I was vigilant in my hyper awareness of perfectionism. I looked for it every where I went and when I thought I had found it I would immulate that person the best I could…I still do it not like I did as a child. I learned to be more covert than that. I am deeply ashamed of never having the guts to just grow up to be me and know who I was and what I believed in because I still don’t know if I believe in anything anymore.

There os no loss of sight in the justice system, there is no human forgiveness that is so authentic I have ever felt obsolved of my wrongs. My amends fall on  closed and angry ears and I can’t make it any different. The world will find a way to keep me a prisoner and if the world fails than I will do it for those who see a failure a mistake still making them , the exact same ones everyday.


I have no patience for myself or those who have claimed to be there for me while they lie to me, ignore me, fail me and betray me but purchase all my meals during the time so it is okay in his mind and therefore it must be in my mind but I can’t forgive what someone has   Never even admitted to or apologised for. Forgive others is for ourselves is not for whom you are trying to forgive.

I often wonder if the pain I feel is as intense  for others… I wonder if being alone and without a home or family or my own child to home in my arms that I cease to exist even in my own mind.  There is nothing else but love and hope and fixing that for yourself so you can give love and  hope to those you are meant to help heal.

I am just waiting for my turn to feel the way I felt in 2013 for 6 months. It is the only time I can remember happiness and so it is etched in my brain deeply and I know others don’t understand why I always reference that time period.

Thats  when I know the answer is NO they do not feel the way I feel pain in my soul.  Other people do not sense the sadness of their child through her smile or for see what is going to go very badly soon but it is like being able to smell the rain right before it comes. I feel the fall before I ever take a step off the building, before I am on a rooftop at all. I sense it weeks months in advance and then I spend that time inbetween crisis and crisis waiting for the shoes to drop hard and heavy on me crushing my lungs so that I die painfully with all the panic that comes with not being able to breath.

It is my greatest fears that ultimately find me and are realised.  I am the common denominator. I make  It go to shit not on purpose but because I don’t have any patience and when you are waiting for that ever present “other shoe” to drop because it is going to drop  whether I am perfect or imperfect good or bad , honest or dishonest, loving or apathetic, kind or cruel, whether I pray to my father Christ in heaven or curse him for making this life about waiting and not being able to learn patience  except for my daughter she has every ounce of patience, love, hope, strength and what ever it is that makes us want to keep living in her little hands and I am not that awful I would never leave her purposely. I am desperate to be a mom. All the little things moms take for granted I was so aware of and I makes me a very good mommy who is always kept from my child which is the irony the true suffering of my life. I have lost all my connections to the world.





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