12/16/15

For my Sister Lynn McIntosh and her family:


A Different Kind of Christmas

A Different Kind of Christmas

Some Reflections

I have learned in my lifetime that every time bad shit happened to me I grew from it, so I figured out that God allowed these things to happen so I could learn how to deal with them. As I learned I grew in spirit and closer to Him cuz I'm gonna tell you that I have been thru some really bad stuff and didn't have a friend in the world to help me thru any of it and all I could do was pray and lean on God.

When you get so low that it's all you have that's what you do. And you keep going because God doesn't make junk and He put you here for a reason and it isn't up to you to decide when it's time to leave this world. Only God decides when He's ready for you to go home to Him. Until then you gotta keep growing into the person He is trying to help you to be.  

I admit that there were times when I felt like doing myself in but then I reminded myself that there would be no one to take care of my kids. I sure didn't want my own mother to do it! She couldn't even come out of her little make believe world long enough to stop my kids from getting molested or keep me from running the streets when I was 13 yrs old, or keep me out of jail, or encourage me to grow and show me how. NO....I had to take care of things for her as far back as I can remember because she would close out the world and ignore it. I had way too much put on me as a child that I felt like I wasn't allowed to be a child. I remember how childish I thought she was. Especially when she tried to kill herself. No way did I want her taking away their childhoods like she did mine.

Ah well, she's gone now. And I did love her as much as I resented her. I learned why she was the way that she was through our family therapy when she finally opened up and talked about her childhood a little. I told her I understood and I really did. I understood that she was troubled and need help. I understood that this was why she acted the way that she did. She could not make decisions, when it came time to do that she would retreat in her little turtle shell of a world and block out the everything. I know that she loved me and all of my brothers and sisters but she didn't know how to love herself. She didn't know how to protect us or herself. All she knew how to do was play baby dolls with the newest baby born into the family or sit at the kitchen table and dive into her word search puzzles and ignore the rest of the world not hearing or seeing anything going on around her. So she taught me that I had to do for myself and I could not depend on anyone except myself. She, also, taught me that I should pay ATTENTION!!!! and omg....I didn't.

Ok, I think I've calmed myself down enough to write a bit more in my blog. I don't like leaving a story hanging. I mean, I'm doing this not only for myself, but for my family and friends as well as anyone else that may find themselves in the same situation as I did so that they know that they aren't alone and there is light and life at the end of that long dark tunnel you're traveling through.

After Ex#2 went to jail I think I had a breakdown. I probably should have been hospitalized but 2 of my sisters took turns coming to take care of me while I just sat around and cried and wondered what I was going to do. I worried about our future, mine and my girls, how was I going to handle all of this? Oh my God! Oh my God! That's all I could think. I didn't make alot of money. I knew I couldn't make the house payment and pay the bills and buy food. My car was a piece of junk but now, at least, I had his truck to use. We lived out in the country in a small community of houses close to each other. I was friendly with only a few of my neighbors, but, this wasn't a good place for me to be with the kids alone. I knew I would have to sell the house eventually. There was no public transportation available if I needed it and we were a long way from any family.

I remember being on the phone with Grace House for a long long time hearing the lady at the other end telling me that this was not the end of the world it was the beginning of a new life for me and my kids. She wanted me to come in to see her the next day. I didn't believe a word she said and argued with her. I couldn't see how I could raise my kids if I couldn't protect them. But I finally agreed to go see her. Well I went the next day and was there a long time talking. I couldn't help but feel guilty. The therapist kept telling me I have nothing to feel guilty about because I didn't do anything. I looked her dead in the eye and said "that's right and I should have." She asked, " how could you do anything if you didn't know what was going on?" I answered, " I don't know but I should have seen or known or felt that something wasn't right. I'm their mother!" To me a mother is suppose to be all knowing and all seeing even though my own wasn't. I think I tried to be what my own mom wasn't and when I failed at that I broke.

Welcome to my blog Soul Motion!

For those who have already viewed some of my writings don't freak out, all I've done is organize things a little differently so it's easier to read. I really hadn't planned on writing a book but it's turning out to look that way at least a little bit. 

I hope you learn something from what I share. I do this so that those who know me will understand better about my past experience that up until now I have been unable to tell about. I admit for me its pretty intense jumping back into that black hole I was in for so long with no hope of climbing out. God brought me through to the other side of hell and showed me that there is always light no matter what.

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Post#3~ Non-Offending Parent

I was advised by my therapist when I told him about writing this blog. He advised me that I should think about it very carefully before going any farther, that to go back into the blackness of the depression I was in during that time, reliving everything, all those feelings, could cause me to backslide in my healing. I totally understand what he was telling me. Feeling this again is very hard even after all these years. So tough, in fact, that I am typing this with my eyes closed because it hurts to see the words.

I am not going to be able to go on the actual timeline. It's been a long time. But I can tell those who are reading this that you don't want to live through something like this if you can avoid it. How to avoid? Listen to your inner voice! You know, the one that nags you. It tells you that something is wrong but your brain or your heart says "nah" so you ignore your inner voice until that teeny tiny voice fades away and you can't hear it anymore. And then you wonder HOW DID I GET MYSELF INTO THIS?  

He was sentenced to 15 years no parole, in fact, the judge said he was going to make sure he stayed in prison until all the girls were over 18 years old. "Oh yea that'll be a big help....no child support..."  For some reason I still took phone calls from him for at least 9 months. I was trying to be a good wife and understand that he was sick. God would want me to try to keep my commitment, I mean I was really afraid that I would go to hell if I divorced him. Back then my evenings were filled with reading alot of the bible hoping it would help make sense out of everything and guide me. I went to bible studies with a Messianic group, I studied with Christians all of who told me the same thing, that God wanted me to be happy and yes He would bless me if I stayed in the marriage but He, also, would not expect me to stay where it is dangerous to me or my children and He would forgive me if I left the marriage.

Once I reconciled this with myself that it was really that simple....that God loved me, that He wouldn't want me to stay in an abusive situation, and that He would forgive me for breaking my marriage vows. Why didn't I divorce him immediately? Let me tell you why....I was shell shocked! I stayed in that condition for years only functioning to survive. I did what I had to do. I went to work, I took care of my kids, I settled their arguments, I took them to the doctors appointments and therapists appointments. All three girls had different emotional needs and they all wanted me to help them yet they resented me and treated me like pure shit! Being the single mother of teenage and preteen daughters is bad enough but when they have been through a trauma like ours made things at home a hundred times...no...a thousand times worse.

When I filed for the divorce I found out I would not be able to get child support (duh!) or even an order for child support as long as he was incarcerated. "Well isn't that convenient?" The only I could do was get an order for him to seek work immediately upon release. "Fat lot of good that's gonna do for me in 15 fucking years!" At least I had the deed to the house Quit Claimed over to me at his sentencing just in time to be able to tell his bill collectors where he was and that if they filed any kind of lien on my home they would be sued and I would own them. I paid all the bills except his loan that I wasn't signed on. LADIES-do not sign on the dotted line for credit with your man! It will save your credit rating if things don't go right! Believe me, it's better to have no credit than to have bad credit. Lucky for me I had established my own good credit before all this happened and I wasn't about to let him ruin that for me when he went for his loan. Of course, at that point in our marriage I knew something wasn't right and things were not good between us anyway.

A few years later my middle child became pregnant at 15 years old. BOOM! "Now what? How the hell am I going to do this? I make less than $20,000.00 yearly, Oh shit! She isn't even the maternal type, she only thinks about herself, how is she going to take care of a baby? She is still in school! What now? Oh God, help me!"  This was about a year after my divorce was final. Even after sitting down and talking with her and her boyfriend with them assuring me that they are going to take care of the baby and finish school and all that stuff I knew better. Her pregnancy went normally but as her belly grew so did her temper. I worried about my grandbaby. Was I going to have to protect it from her like I protected her from her father? She is very self centered and immature and short tempered. I was really afraid she would not know how to control herself with the baby.

Oh shit...rubs her head, her eyes, lights a cigarette, sits at the kitchen table and cries....

Post# 2~ Non-Offending Parent

Sorry about having to take a break but each time I go back down that road it really drains me. It's no wonder I've been such an emotional mess all these years. Let me continue...

The next morning February 15, 1989 I drove Ex#2 to the police station for his appointment with the detective. I sat out in the waiting area for what seemed like hours but was really just about an hour. All kinds of things were going around in my head  where he was going to go, how long would it be before I could bring home my kids, I hope they keep his ass, what if they don't? Finally a man opened the door and asked me to come back into an office with him. As I sat down I was told that they had talked with my husband and he won't answer their questions but had asked for an attorney so they will be sending him downtown to the county jail. He then handed me his wallet and his wedding band. They asked me if I wanted to see him before I left and I said said yes. I was shown into the room where he was being held and just stood there looking at him, he staring at me for just a brief minute before dropping his eyes. I said something to him like " why don't you just answer their questions?" He looked at me and said "I am not stupid I need to talk to a lawyer first." and just kept glaring at me like he was daring me or something. I really don't remember if I said anything to him I turned around and got out of there as fast as I could, got in my car, lit a cigarette, hit the clutch, put it in gear, and drove home as fast as I could.

When I got home I sat down on a chair and broke down crying. I cried and cried for a long time. My phone was ringing, I remember picking it up but I don't remember who it was or what was said. All I remember was crying and feeling like I was falling into the deepest black hole that I couldn't see the bottom of.  I don't know what time of day it was when one of my sisters showed up at my door. She came a long way to stay with me to help me through this tough time because my other sister (the one who had my kids) had called her. Later on my other sister came over so I had both of them there doting over me trying to get me to eat, trying to get me to drink, trying to get me to talk. I don't remember what we talked about. I don't remember much about that day or much about any of that week really except calling in to work to take time off.  I do remember talking with someone on the phone from Children's Services and then from a place called Grace House for a long time. They told me they were not going to hang up unless I promised to come in to their office the next day. So I guess I must have made that promise because I did go there. I'm really glad I did.

Grace House Sexual Abuse Resource Center in Dayton, Ohio was a Godsend to me. I think I was there every day of the week between my appointments with a therapist and appointments for each of the girls. It was quite intensive at first but eventually we were able to schedule appointments so that I wasn't killing myself going to work then driving to my sister's to get a kid to take them to their appointment, then taking them back to my sister's, then finally getting home myself at 10p only to do it again the next day but with a different kid. And if no one had an appointment then I went straight from work to my sister's to spend time with the girls then went home at 9p or so. My sister's house was at least a 20 to 30 minute drive from mine. How the hell did I do that?

Finally, CSB allowed the girls to come home after about 2 months. Finally, things can get back to almost normal. But...nothing was normal anymore.

Post#1~ Non-Offending Parent

Wow, ok, I'm new to blogging so forgive me if things look strange. I do have another page to this that has a Strawberry Icebox Cake recipe link on it and I've been trying to test it but have yet to figure that out so if it doesn't work just let me know so I can do it another way.

The reason for this blog is to share a soul who, thanks to the Grace of God, survived trauma, strife, and poverty raising 3 daughters who have emotional issues as serious as her own. Of course, that soul is me... I just found that at this point in my life I needed a place where I could put my thoughts & feelings down which in turn will help me to work through them. Like many people my issues actually began with my parents but I don't know if I want to go there, lol! It's kind of a moot point now since they aren't here to defend themselves; however, I have learned that the reason I am who I am is a direct result of how my childhood was.

Basically what I want to do is just put it out there & try to let it go to what it will; what God's purpose was for it to begin with, because I obviously am just getting older & don't see any other ways to help anyone. Maybe what has occurred in my life or how I dealt with something might be of some kind of help to someone else going through the same type of thing. I would like to think so anyway. Otherwise, I just don't understand why God allowed it to happen.

So in a nutshell, I have 2 ex-husbands. Ex #1 I married right after I turned 19. After 3 months I found he was gay & he married me because he didn't want to be & thought he could change. We had sex all of 2x during our marriage which enough to produce my first daughter. Back then you couldn't get a divorce if you were pregnant so we had to wait until after she was born. Shortly afterward I met my 2nd husband when my daughter was like 2 weeks old. My divorce hearing was going to court and he served as a character witness for me along with another friend. Then 3 months later I married Ex#2. So my daughter was 6 months old when I remarried. Together we had 2 more daughters and were married for about 15 or 16 yrs. In the beginning he was a good and loving person, went to work, provided for us, all that shit. Then somewhere he short circuited showing the ugly side of himself,  I don't remember when.

Somehow I became the main breadwinner, bill payer, housekeeper, cook, and mommy, decision maker, everything. I told him how much I needed from his paycheck in order to pay the bills and the rest was his to do what he pleased. He bought alot of weed, I knew that, but he, also, bought guns, cross bows, etc. for hunting. (Usually gifts to me were household items. I was never encouraged to grow in any way) Anytime I tried anything to better myself for the benefit of just me or the family even he would somehow work it so that I would fail. He never wanted me to succeed, in fact, in looking back I think he was afraid of success himself and probably because it meant he would have to be accountable & responsible. 

I have to include here that Ex#2 had a history of emotional problems that I only became aware of after we were married. In fact, it seemed like every time things got seriously elevated between us arguing he would end it by doing something really dramatic like taking off in the truck for awhile to make me think he wasn't coming back or destroying the house or threatening suicide or knocking the shit out of me or going out & getting drunk & coming back & raping me. YES...husbands do rape their wives!

Let me just go on without getting to detailed...along came Valentines Day 1989. I received a call from the school about my youngest daughter who was being taken to Children's Hospital. I was told to meet them there. My other 2 were still in school and I was worried about them when they got home. I was told that someone was with them as well and not to worry. So after getting there I was taken into a room with Children's Services, a doctor, and the police. It was there I was told that my little girl had told a friend at school that her daddy touched her in private places and hurt her. I was immediately in denial, but it was surreal, like a dream, not really happening.  But I didn't say anything, I just listened staring at nothing. I remember this so well it's like it happened yesterday. Then they told me my other girls told them it had happened to them, too. (OMG!!!!! I'm losin' it....I"m losin' it....) I couldn't think anymore. "my babies aren't innocent anymore....he needs to die..." I just seemed to shut down & go on auto function. The Children's Service (CSB) worker  must have noticed because she was so very nice to me, gave me her card & told me to call her anytime I need to talk. I remembered saying I had to go home before he got there and she said he needed to call the police detective as soon as he got home & my kids could not go home until they were sure he would no longer be there.  It was like... I heard all of that but my brain just heard "you just lost your kids & it's your fault" and before I could day anything she assured my my sister was contacted and said she would take them. That made me feel so much better, sooooo much I can't tell you how much!

It's a long story so I'll try to make it shorter. A lot happened that night and I didn't sleep well. He kept acting like he was going to kill himself, denying all of it. Even went out on the porch and fired a shot to see if I would come running. I didn't. I continued sitting where I was at the kitchen table, smoking my cigarette, trying to make sense of it all. Then he came in ranting about how he wasn't going to prison again, went straight into the bathroom and slammed the door.("do it, mother fucker....do it, just get it over with already & do it!") I just sat there & waited for the shot. I remember trying to figure out what I should use to clean the blood up out of the bathroom. I couldn't sell the house unless it was cleaned up. And I remember thinking how I wasn't sure if I could clean up blood & brains & all that yucky shit. Then mentally I meticulously went through my under sink cabinet trying to image each cleaning product in there & wondering if that one would work or this one would work very slowly checking off my imaginary list smoking one cigarette after another while I waited for that shot from his gun, frozen in my chair at that kitchen table unable to move.

After an hour or so he came out finally and called the detective, made an appointment for early in the morning to go in to see him & then he went to bed. I stayed on the couch awake most of the night. I was waiting for him to come in to kill me. I figured he was probably going to do us both in because he was too chicken to face up to what he did. I never once doubted what my girls said, I knew deep down that little girls don't know about that stuff! I knew I had to do something about it. I didn't know what was going to happen that night. I didn't know if I was going to be the murderer or the victim but it didn't matter to me, I just knew I had to do something! It was only for the Grace of God that I didn't kill him that night. It would have been very easy. But my girls needed me & I couldn't put them through that, too, on top of everything else. "my babies aren't innocent anymore....he needs to die..."

I have to stop this post right now. To be continued.....