What Do You Want From Me?

I have made a lot of mistakes in my life. I remember them, you don't have to keep reminding me. You may remind me directly or you may remind me indirectly, like a screwed up ninja bouncing around in the dark leaving subtle (and not-so-subtle) hints everywhere that I'll never be good enough for you. I'll never be good enough for anyone.

I don't believe that. I believe I AM good enough. But, damn. What is the breaking point, exactly, between my past and my present that certain people just cannot, or refuse to, see? I constantly hear people say, "leave the past and your mistakes behind you, you can do nothing about them, you can only concentrate on today." I wonder if those people have any clue whatsoever how difficult a task that is when you have a few monkeys swinging by on branches constantly throwing "past poo" in your face. Swinging through life on branches coated with feces of the past is a monumental task at times. No, all the time. Personally, I'm sick to death of it. It makes me wonder if ANYTHING I do matters at all.

Please stop the world. I want to get off now.

It's only Monday and already I feel like my week has been crushed. My kids mean the world to me, and even though only 2 of them are talking to me right now, when one of those two is enthusiastic about having a relationship with me and asks for my help specifically with something that is special and important to her, it brightens my entire life. My circumstances make it difficult for me to get around and get certain things done, but I literally do everything in my power to make my kids happy, including walking the 5 miles to or from their dad's house, if need be. Turns out, I'm not even "allowed" to do that.

Want to know what a heart of gold looks like from the outside of a body that belongs to a beautiful strawberry blonde 18-year-old? There you go. To say that my daughter is amazing would be the understatement of the decade. She has been through so much, and continues to struggle, in her life; but the way she deals with her struggles astounds me. She doesn't let her Aniridia get in her way. Not if she can help it, anyway. She faces adversity head-on. Her compassion for others overwhelms me completely. I have watched this girl spend more money on other people simply because the desire of her heart is to see the ones she loves happy, than I've ever seen her spend on herself. She's completely unselfish, has more love than she probably knows what to do with, is an inspiration to more people that she probably realizes, and always, ALWAYS gives of herself without expecting anything in return, yet I know she has a yearning to be loved; and she is. She is loved so much. I'm biased, of course. I'm mommy. I mean, what mom wouldn't love a child as incredible as this one? Actually, sadly there are some pretty shitty moms out there. I'm not perfect AT ALL, and definitely far from a perfect mom, but no one can ever say I don't love my children. Even in the dadgum middle of my biggest and most harsh mistakes, I've proven I love my children in ways that many parents, or people, will ever know or understand.

Important note: I DON'T CARE IF YOU UNDERSTAND. I DON'T CARE IF YOU DON'T UNDERSTAND. I'M RESPONSIBLE FOR WHAT I LIVE AND HOW I EDUCATE YOU. I AM NEVER, EVER RESPONSIBLE FOR WHAT YOU DO AND DON'T UNDERSTAND.

Last year, she would leave me notes all over the bathroom mirrors when I was still living at the farm. I forgive you for ruining and using up my favorite red lipstick. How could I possibly be mad about lipstick when my mirror says "Best Mommy Ever" written by an 18-year-old? I wish you could see the amazing stuff she wrote to the right of that. I have no idea what happened to that picture. I wish I did. It was the most encouraging message she ever could have left me. I'm sure it's wiped clean now that I'm gone. It was all about not giving up and that my scars mean something, especially to God. I can feel my eyes burning just remembering that moment when I saw it for the first time. She had already left to go back to her dad's house.

Her dad. One of the biggest reasons I am writing this right now. I don't bash. I don't like to bash. I will write about what I don't understand, though, and at the moment, that's quite a bit. I'm boggled, if you will.

My daughter has something very special planned for someone this weekend. There are several food items that she wants to prepare. She knows I'm creative and also love to cook, and do a darn good job at it if I must say so myself, so who did she ask to help her on Friday night with these things? Me. Unfortunately, I don't have a vehicle at the moment. However, I will find a way to get around, even if it's my own 2 feet, in order to make things happen. Originally, she was going to come over here so I could help her cook things. She can be dropped off. Our concern is getting her back home. Then we thought of the possibility of me making my way over there, by whatever means necessary, to help her get this stuff done. Apparently, neither will happen. 1) Her dad doesn't want to pick her up from here when we are done. Not can't; won't. 2) I can't go over there because her dad and step-mom won't be there and I can't be there when they aren't.

Are you kidding me right now? Am I being Punk'd? No, I'm not being Punk'd. I'm evidently just still in a vicious cycle of someone else's narcissism that I that had improved and was just bitch-slapped via text from my daughter (who felt really bad about having to tell me that) by someone that is so self-righteous, that I've got to be going to hell if I'm really that much of the bottom feeder that I just got portrayed as. I'm still reeling a little bit and trying to come up with SOME kind of valid reason why this was just said. I have nothing. If I recall correctly, I've been at the house plenty of times when they weren't there, even BABYSAT THE CHILD THEY HAVE TOGETHER FOR THEM, and it's never been a problem. Why suddenly is it a problem now? I'm more confused than a chameleon in a bag of Skittles. My imperfectness has just become too much? Afraid that I'm actually better than you in some small way? That sounded pretty self-righteous for ME to say, but really; I feel like I'm being punished because my daughter loves me. This is the same man who has told me on more than one occasion that my children need their mother and that he would always encourage them spending time with me and never hinder it.

Houston, we have a serious problem. One that NASA cannot fix.

So, here I am writing when I should have been sleeping at LEAST 5 hours ago, will now be sleep-deprived for work, none of this is helping my head pain at all, because I've been trying to come up with every single feasible way I can to still help my daughter on Friday night; and I'm super sad because I'm currently at a loss. At a loss of thoughts, a loss of further words, a loss of the one thing I was looking forward to the most this entire week, a loss of mind, a loss of ideas. I'm a canvas waiting to be splattered by any type of art medium; get to splashing!

There is no point in trying to contact her father. He never responds to my texts, emails, or messages. Ever. He will have one of the kids respond, or I will suddenly get a random text from their step-mom. I'm sorry, but did I have any of my children with your help? I think not. Step off.  I tried my hardest to be friends with both of them, but they both have such a tight grip on my past and every single one of my transgressions that I have ever committed, that they can't even concentrate on the issues they have between them. Trust me when I say there are many, and why I seem to be the focus so much instead of each other is more than baffling. Anything to take the attention of history repeating itself, I guess. Sometimes I feel sorry for her. Sometimes I just think, "Bitch!"

What I do know, is that I need that pretty face smiling right there. We were in Maine together when I took that picture of her. At least we have those memories, and hopefully more to come.

Parents: If you truly want to be a good one, don't interfere with your children's development of a relationship with the other parent. Don't talk bad about them to them. Don't call them names or be accusatory in front of them. If you truly want to nourish and enrich your child's life, let them love who they need to love and allow them to be loved in return by the people that matter the most, whether you have a problem with them or not. The only case where I would state otherwise is in reference to child abuse, and I don't abuse my children. I've never wanted anything but the best for them. I screwed that up plenty and owned up to every single bad decision I've ever made. It's time to move on.

Just move on, already. If you don't, you might be the one wanting to spend time with them one day... and they are going to be able to make their own decision that they aren't interested.

Memory Lane and Journal Entries. Circa 2002.

I have spent the last several hours of my life reading my journal from the year 2002.  I couldn't seem to fall directly asleep, as happens many mornings after I've worked all day, into the night; or all night..... my brain does not like to automatically go from "we have a code red, please bring the jaws of life," or "when I entered the patient's room, he was standing in front of the mirror butt naked," or if if I've had an oh-so-crappy evening of "I love you, but I wish things were different, blah blah blah bibbity bobbity eff you," to "ah, my bed, it's so comfy, quiet and all nicey nice to sleep in."  I have to have some kind of in between.  Early this morning I spent some time reading old experiences and personal moments.  Here are some excerpts from the summer of 2002:

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May 25, 2002  Saturday
It's been a nice and lazy day.  No kids, just peace and quiet around the house.  I decided that I needed a real break from being a full time, single mom, and all I did was the dishes in the sink and that's it!  I didn't walk around the apartment cleaning every little thing like I usually do when the kids are gone.  I didn't sit in front of my computer or do homework all day long.  I slept and watched TV, prayed and did some scrapbooking.  Mostly just sorted through stuff that I haven't put in there yet.  The day was nice just relaxing like that!  I've been thinking about Brian a lot since my therapy session with Garrett.  About how he was when we met.  I find it nearly impossible to believe that it was all an act.  It hurts too much to think that I was living in some fantasy world where I was merely a player.  What a horrible game for someone to make up.  I just can't believe that.  There are times when I think about it and I just want to begin laughing hysterically and run my fingers through my hair while pulling it in this wild and crazy gesture.  Just like a lunatic.  I still feel a little crazy when I think about it.  I still feel like there is something wrong with me.  Why couldn't he love me for me?  I thought he did, and then suddenly everything I did was wrong in his eyes. 

June 16, 2002  Sunday
I just feel like both my body and my mind, my total being if you will, are being pulled in a million different directions.  My body feels as though it is falling apart just as much as my van is.  Pieces aren't falling off, of course, but they may as well be, because they just don't seem to work properly.  Sometimes I just ache all over and can't seem to move.  Other times I just feel so completely exhausted that I would be perfectly content to lie around on the futon all damn day long and do nothing.  I notice my cramping and pains on my sides and lower stomach more often now, so I guess the endometriosis is spreading.  My surgery is in the process of being scheduled, hopefully for the month of July some time.  I asked to have the dates of July 3-15 looked at since I won't have my kids during that time period since they'll be vacationing with their dad, but naturally there is no guarantee I'll get the surgery date I desire.  I'd just like to have to polyps removed before I have full-blown cancer if the surgeon can fit me into his schedule! I'm irritated with Bev over my surgery situation, because I feel like she is really belittling it.  All she can really say is that surgeries today aren't what they used to be and don't hurt as much, blah blah blah.  I just feel like she is pretty much telling me that this just isn't a big deal at all and that I'm going to be just fine and won't need any help.  Like I'm going to walk out of the hospital pain free and completely relieved.  It makes me mad and sad at the same time that she is viewing my hysterectomy like I'm going to have my tonsils removed or something.  I think I'm entitled to be angry, sad, disappointed and frustrated over this surgery, and once I have it done I'm entitled to be in pain, cry, scream, and whatever else I want to feel or do!!!  I didn't ask for pre-cancerous polyps, I didn't ask for endometriosis or adenomyosis, I didn't ask to have my ability to have any more children to be taken away. 

July 17, 2002  Wednesday
I grow a little more capable of being okay every day, but this week has been so hard for me.  Now that I've had major surgery, it has been nice spending time with Bev, since she has opened her home and taken care of me since I have not been able to take care of myself, and being able to sit here and read, and journal, and take time to heal.  But I REALLY miss my kids and my heart is hurting.  I'm used to having them every day of my life, and I've never been away from them except when they go with their dad every other weekend.  Aspen has been really sick the past couple of days and I hear him crying on the phone saying in his 2-year-old voice that he wants his mommy and I just start to cry.  It turns me into an emotional wreck hearing my baby so upset and I'm completely helpless to take care of him.  I can't pick him up, can't risk getting a fever or ulcers in my throat like Aspen has right now.  I'm so thankful to Debra for taking care of him, but I feel like such a burden right now with the kids spread out all over the place because no one could take all of them at once for a week.  I know they miss each other, too.  

July 27, 2002  Saturday
Oh my Lord.  I got really sick a few days ago, have been getting worse, and yesterday fainted from pain, collapsing on my bedroom floor.  I was rushed to the hospital by ambulance since I just had major surgery a couple of weeks ago.  They immediately went in surgically because of the pain I was having, but it was only supposed to be an inch long incision.  I woke up this morning with a row of 20 staples across my abdomen.  I never expected to wake up in so much pain.  Morphine is a wonderful, wonderful thing.  As soon as I opened my eyes I immediately started crying.  I was in so much pain, it was unbearable.  I had been cut open from hip bone to hip bone.  I had an infection and an abscess on my colon that had to clean out.  The kids brought pictures that they made for me to the hospital.  Karah cried.  I cried. I can't even see my journal because of the medication, I have to stop writing.
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Oh how I miss my children. Reading the things I wrote 12 years ago - TWELVE YEARS AGO - has brought forth so many feelings I didn't even realize I still had. First of all, I can see the bipolar disorder in me just from the first entry. I knew there was something going on with me even then. Ironically, I was in therapy, and still wasn't diagnosed. Brian is my first husband, and children's father, by the way. It's also ironic the way I spoke about the situation. I feel the same way about my current situation with Ron. Was I merely a player once again? What is it about me that makes the men I love, and who supposedly love me, erase me from their lives? Do I just have a knack for choosing hidden exhibitions of uncoded narcissism and I want to be loved so badly that I fall for the initial charm, only to be shocked into unpleasant reality once they know "they have me?" Do I just love too much and it's not enough? Or maybe I love too much and it's too much to handle? How effing codependent am I, really? The reminder that I can have no more children was surprisingly a little harsh, as well. I don't know why; I'm 40 years old and why would I want another child anyway? My youngest is 14 and my oldest is 21. I think it's the fact that I missed out on everything a woman who is expecting a child, whether it's their first or tenth, should be able to experience. Call me a fool, but I would have loved to have had someone with me at all my appointments, someone who would lay his head on my stomach and talk to the baby, someone who would rub my belly, someone who would cherish every single moment along with me, someone who wouldn't jerk their hand away if the baby moved because it was weird to them, someone who got excited about sonogram pictures, someone who would hold my hand all the way through labor and delivery and stroke my hair telling me it was going to be okay instead of letting nurses and other relatives to "the job." I loved being pregnant, and I loved expecting; but I miss the love of pregnancy with the person who helped create it. Every. Single. One. Of. Them. My girls are 18 and soon-to-be 17. My 18-year-old WANTS me to have another baby. She has encouraged me to adopt many, many times in the last year. That was before my fiance decided he didn't want to marry me, of course. She recently remarked, "you should have a baby anyway." I love her so much. If I were to have a baby, she is definitely one person I know who would be there through thick and thin. My own child. Imagine that. My soon-to-be-17-year-old. That's such the opposite end of the spectrum, that the last entry brought me to tears. "Karah cried." How I miss my Karah, so very, very much. I pray every day that she will give me another chance in her life. I've stopped trying to figure out why I've been cut completely out of it. Does she even miss me at all? Has my daughter really stopped loving her mom? The girl who just 4 years ago would still insist on sleeping in my bed with me and would fight her little brother over the spot next me, and lay her head on my shoulder? I can't bear the thought. It reminded me that her birthday is soon. She will be 17 in just a couple of weeks, and it will officially mark 1 year of her ceasing communication with me, as it was just after her birthday last year that the texts, calls, and emails just stopped. She was there - and then she wasn't. So what do I do this year? Do I try like I did last year to get her to go to lunch with me or something? That's what started it, I believe. She had already started putting me off a bit, and I pushed too hard and ended up telling her that when she was ready to spend time with me, she would. It's almost like I made up her mind for her, and I wish I'd never said it. I feel like it somehow triggered her decision, as if she was saying, "then I won't......... in your face!" I've been working on letting go; but how can I ignore her birthday? I can't. I will send her a card that I hand make for her, along with something else that I make for her; because that is our thing. I make things for her. She got a lot of her creativity in art and writing from me, and it's a passion we share. I hope that I can find something to do for her that will make her at least smile, even if I don't get a chance to witness it. I know it's usually the birthday girl that makes the wish, but I have a wish of my own for her birthday this year. A wish for just one hug. I just want to hug my daughter.

Final thought: I REALLY MISS MY KIDS. I never thought, in 2002, that there would be a day when I DIDN'T have them every day. As a matter of fact, the thought never crossed my mind.

Cherish the moments you have. You never, ever know when life will change dramatically on you.

A Yard In My Shoes.

I don't even challenge you to a mile. Just a yard. That's as far as it would take to walk through part of my life story before you realize you have no right to judge me. You don't really have a right, anyway, but I'm just saying. Unless you live in another persons skin, don't pretend to even remotely know how they feel, what they are going through, or why they make the decisions they make.

I've been getting a lot of crap lately because I am going on vacation tomorrow, for 10 days. Yes, that's right. I'm leaving the state, taking 2 of my children with me, and taking off with my best friend and her 2 kids for 10 beautiful days in New England. Yes, I'm still essentially homeless, as I'm still sleeping on my best friend's floor. Yes, I'm struggling. Yes, I barely have enough money to even DO this, short a little actually since bringing my 2 kids was a pretty last minute God-thing, and it will definitely be completely gone by the time I get back. So, yes, I will be starting over saving for a place to live when I get back.

Some of the things that have been said to me:
You have no priorities.
I can't believe you would take a vacation at a time like this.
You deserve what you get if you are going to abandon your responsibilities.

Let me make a few things VERY CLEAR:
My priorities are very straight. God comes first, my family comes next, everything else comes after that. My children are my world. I haven't been able to take them anywhere with me for YEARS and you don't have a clue how much this means to any of us, much less what a healing opportunity it is for our relationships.
"A time like this" is every day for me right now. My situation is still going to be my situation in 10 days. It will not have changed. I will still be moving forward.
I am abandoning nothing. Thank you. I am responsible for every decision I make, and although I also have to deal with the consequences of those decisions, the good far outweighs what I will consider "bad" in this situation. I do deserve what I get. I deserve to have my children with me for 10 days. I deserve the time we will get to spend with each other. I deserve to get away from the hell that is my life right now and just go and be free for a brief amount of time, because believe me... 10 days is brief.  I deserve some happiness.  I deserve to thrive, not just survive.  I deserve to experience some of the things that many other people simply take for granted... like a vacation. So many people just go on about their days and don't give a single thought to those of us that only have opportunities like this come around on rare occasions.

A VERY BRIEF VIDEO OF ME FEATURED ON HOMELESS AND HUNGRY - CLICK HERE

What you don't realize, may never understand, or think it doesn't matter:
This vacation has been planned for a year. In other words, tickets were bought, arrangements made, minds made up, WAY before I became homeless again; nor did I think I was ever facing homelessness again at the time most of the decisions were made for this trip. The only thing that happened AFTER becoming homeless again was finding out that 2 of my children were going to be able to accompany me. If you have any idea whatsoever what my life has been like for the past 10 years, you would completely understand why I AM DOING THIS. I AM taking those 2 children, I AM going on vacation with them, and I AM going to have the time of my life!
We need this time together. We need this experience. If there is anything at all I have learned, it is that opportunity may only come once in a lifetime. That means I may only have this one chance to do this. That means if I wait, it may not come again. It isn't being negative, it's being REAL. It makes me think of Eminem's song...

We have been through a lot. I could never explain all of it to you, no matter how many hours I had. You'll have to read the book when I finally write it. Please don't judge me for that. If anything, be willing to helping with the little bit I'm short now that a miracle has happened and I DO get to take 2 of my kids. You can check out part of my story at HELP BARBARA COMPLETELY START OVER! -CLICK HERE and donate what you would normally pay for a single meal at McDonalds or a cup of coffee, and help me make sure we can eat whenever we need to, get the hotel room for the one night we need one (the rest of our nights are taken care of). 

What is this experience I keep speaking of? A big part of it is called SoulFest. If you'd like to see all about it, just go to SOULFEST - CLICK HERE. We will be spending 3 of our days on the side of a mountain at one of the biggest Christian music festivals in the U.S.  It's a time for bonding with each other through our faith, a time of reflection upon life, a time of enjoying the music of the people we love listening to so much on our radios or CDs, a time of family and fellowship, but most of all, a time for healing, refreshment and nourishing of our souls, and our relationships with one another. We not only get 3 days full of concerts, we also get to meet the artists, go to workshops, lay in the sun, enjoy creation, and hopefully put our troubles behind us, if only for the moment.  Because my kids will be with me, my best friend and I (we wouldn't be able to do this without her driving) are also traveling a little extra and going to 2 places that even I haven't been. We get to share "first experiences" together. My oldest daughter, the one I am taking, was also born legally blind, and this is something she has always wanted to do, and NYC is a place she has always wanted to see. If I am able to make that happen as a parent of a child who has proven her strength her ENTIRE LIFE, I'm going to do it. She deserves it. My youngest son, the one I am taking, has a heart of gold, has supported me through my mistakes, and has more passion and excitement about things in his pinky finger than I've seen in an entire grown adult. If I am able to let him experience the festival he so badly wants to experience as a parent of a child who has been told he is "too hyper" to go on church group outings, I'm going to do it.

Day 1 and 2: Driving from Florida to Maine.

Day 3: Beach in Maine.
Day 4, 5, and 6: SoulFest in New Hampshire.
Day 7: Whatever we want.
Day 8: Carlo's Bakery (Cake Boss) in New Jersey, and Central Park in New York City.
Day 9 and 10: Driving from New York to Florida.

When we get back, they go back to their dad's and I start working my butt off again. I WILL make it and I WILL get back on my feet. And just because I'm doing this, does not mean I am shirking any responsibility, nor do I believe I am making a mistake.

The only mistake I could ever make right now is to NOT go. 

You can help by donating a little... you can prayer for us... or you can groan and moan and complain.  Just remember, I care not about the latter. Because this is my life, and you will NEVER understand any of it unless you've lived it yourself. 

Before you judge me:

Have your dad abandon you when you were a baby.
Have your mother give you away when you are a small child.
Have your step-grandfather molest you and your grandmother not believe you.
Be ripped out of home after home.
Go through two very different, but still failed marriages, and then a third long-term relationship-supposed-to-be-marriage that left you in the dust.
Get beat up physically.
Get torn down emotionally.
Lose everything.

Become homeless.

Lose your integrity and humanity.
Beat cancer, struggle through illnesses, only to find out you might be really sick again and can't get the medical care that you need.
Skip from home to home, tree to tree, life to life.
Make huge mistakes and then try and make up for them, realizing you can't because the world is that unforgiving.
Make it to where you are unable to spend a lot of time, if any, with your children, and then when the time FINALLY comes where you can take 2 of them.... tell me that no matter what, you wouldn't take it.

Walk a yard in my shoes; if they fit.

If tomorrow never comes....................................................