Gone Again...

Here we go again... five months lost, gone, never to be recouped in the life of a son gone rouge yet again. I don’t even know how to express how I feel about this latest twist of events in his life. I've been through so much with him and yet things are still happening.

What’s so heart-wrenching is that it is from the same stuff over and over again and the lesson just doesn’t seem to be learned.

How do you show up for court and blow a .07 at 9:00 in the morning? How do you get 4 tickets for driving on a suspended license and continue to drive. How do you get piss ass drunk every day and wake up to do it all over again? Why do you continuously hurt those that love you, lie to them, let them down and most of all slowly kill yourself one drink at a time?

Why is it that when you are sober you are a good son, brother, dad, boyfriend and friend to all those that know and love you but with each reach for alcohol you lose all sense of who you are in the name of having a good time. You have so much promise, so much love and bring us such joy during your sobriety only to throw it all away when you reach for the beer, the alcohol, the cigarettes and the "fun times" you think you're having while you are doing all of those things.

Oh son of mine if only I could save you from your demons; soothe away what hurts you and put you on the straight and narrow path towards freedom and peace of mind. I long for that with all my heart for you and hope that these next five months will be a time of enlightenment for you as you have to stare into the eyes of your child through a glass window.

My prayer will be for healing, for strength and for peace. My hope will be for change and rejuvenation. My desire is that you will be safe and that you will look to God to get you through this time.

I will lift up mine eyes unto the hills, from whence cometh my help. My help cometh from the LORD, which made heaven and earth. He will not suffer thy foot to be moved: he that keepeth thee will not slumber. Behold, he that keepeth Israel shall neither slumber nor sleep. The LORD is thy keeper: the LORD is thy shade upon thy right hand. The sun shall not smite thee by day, nor the moon by night. The LORD shall preserve thee from all evil: he shall preserve thy soul. The LORD shall preserve thy going out and thy coming in from this time forth, and even for evermore. (Psalm 121)

Living Out Loud

I’m alone, scared, hurt, tired, hungry, and angry; I am frustrated and overwhelmed. My life is not what I thought it would be or how I wanted it to be.

Failure seemed to lurk around every corner. Shame became my name and despair my constant companion. Everything I touched withered and died and my soul rotted from the inside out with bitterness and unforgiveness.

Lord do you hear me? How I long to surrender my all to you. Please take away these dark thoughts and replace them with your light. May my parched lips have a taste of your living water so that my thirst will be forever quenched? May your love, mercy and grace abide in me? Father won’t you let you Son intercede on my behalf so that I may bask in the glory of You.

This nightmare has turned into a new beginning, one that will get better with each step I take that brings me closer to You as I bask in the safety and comfort of your arms; praising you all the days of my life. I'll call out to you dear Lord to save me from myself, the enemy and these thoughts that threaten to consume me daily.

I know that with you all things are possible. I can’t do this alone but I can do this with you by my side. No longer will I suffer in silence dear Lord but I will shout it to the rafters that I need you and want your help. Oh dear God in heaven you have looked down and smiled upon me and turned my ashes into beauty.

I will not hide my light under a bushel but be like a light on a hill shining bright for all to see their way out of the darkness too.

How Can You Mend A Broken Heart?

This song has been sung by many people over the years but in my opinion Al Green's version was the best. These words sum up how I'm feeling today as I navigate through a very difficult situation in the life of someone I care for very deeply.

I can think of younger days when living for my life
Was everything a man could want to do.
I could never see tomorrow, but I was never told about the sorrow.

And how can you mend a broken heart?
How can you stop the rain from falling down?
How can you stop the sun from shining?
What makes the world go round?
How can you mend this broken man?
How can a loser ever win?
Please help me mend my broken heart and let me live again.

I can still feel the breeze that rustles through the trees
And misty memories of days gone by
We could never see tomorrow, no one said a word about the sorrow.

And how can you mend a broken heart?
How can you stop the rain from falling down?
How can you stop the sun from shining?
What makes the world go round?
How can you mend this broken man?
How can a loser ever win?
Please help me mend my broken heart and let me live again.


I am a fixer of broken things or at least that's what I try to be. I feel like that's what I do best - fix things, people, situations. It stems from being broken myself, being told that it (me & my life) was too broken to be fixed and not being able to fix myself.

My husband says I try to save the world but I don't think I'm that bad. I know I have limitations although I admit I don't always realize that I've stretched myself beyond them sometimes.

As a mom, I have spent so many days, weeks and years fixing my kids - bumps, bruises and scrapes; their stuff - broken bikes, trucks, trains and video games; and the messes - forgotten schoolwork, dented fenders, fights with friends. As they grew up, left home and ventured into the big bad world I've rushed to their side and helped put them and their lives back together again one piece at a time, one step at a time, one prayer at a time and for the most part it has been a successful partnership. But now they are at the age and point in their lives where they don't always want my help and when they do it's only for certain things but not others.

Lately, I keep finding myself in situations where as much as I would like to I can't fix the situation, the person or the things; they are greater than anything I, a mere human being with so many faults of my own, can do anything about. Nothing tears me up inside more than to see my children hurting and suffering because of choices that they have made and continue to make that create messes in their lives of monumental proportions that could have been avoided if only they had listened or allowed us to help. It is because of this my heart is broken. I feel stuck, useless and unable to move on; like the weight of the world is on my shoulders and its beating me down.

It's even more exasperating because I know that God can fix it, but without the permission of the parties involved he can't and he won't.

I know that at some point in our lives as parents we are to let our children go and let God but what mother can truly let go of her child. It is inherent in us to nurture, to love, to support and in my case to fix. But until they decide that they want my help to fix it or God finally figures out a way to help me accept that I can't always fix it, I have to step back and pray. Pray for safety, pray for guidance, pray for deliverance and pray for peace and healing of my heart that is broken as I watch my children teeter and totter on the brink of destruction as they gravitate toward the enticing yet harmful things this world is offering them.

Oh how I long for the days when they were two and three and I could grab them before they fell, steady them and set them back on the straight and narrow path out of harms way and into my outstretched arms waiting to love them and keep them safe.

It makes me ponder the depth of heartbreak our Father in heaven must feel as he sits high and looks low over us, watching as we boldly and brashly step out there making wrong choices and decisions daily breaking his heart and rejecting his offers to fix it.

The Battlefield of My Mind

Right now my mind is a battlefield. My thoughts are at war with one another and with me. I have been unable to process what has been going on in my life for the past few weeks; unable to write my thoughts down for myself much less share with others and my lips won’t utter a word other than the daily routine of stuff that has to be spoken. My eyes are dry, my throat is parched and my soul twists and turns in agony. I am spent; drained of all energy and desire to move beyond the point I seem to be stuck at. I feel totally useless and yet because of who I know I am (a child of God) and whose I know I am, (I belong to Jesus Christ) I am trying to fight my way through this fog, into the light that is beckoning in the distance.

Proverbs 23:7 says “For as he thinks in his heart, so is he.”

I don’t want to be what I think. I don’t want my life to reflect the internal battle that rages inside my head daily. Especially not now; right now I am being held prisoner by my thoughts. They are choking me, sucking the life right out of me and I feel powerless to stop them. I’ve been in this haze for a month now. I’m running, running, running and just when I think I can’t run any further I find myself continuing on. Fearful of what will happen if I stop. My thoughts are consuming me during the day while I work, do my daily activities and at night while I sleep depriving me of restful sleep and leaving me more tired when I wake up than when I laid down. Yet I can’t stop them or even corral them.

Fear, grief and confusion have risen up against me. The enemy is hitting me hard on all sides. I’m battling for my spiritual life and although the battle is not mine, at this moment, during this particular season, I feel like it is and I am helpless to stop it. Although I know what the Word says I am having a hard time applying that in my life right now.

For fear there is 2 Timothy 1:7 which says “For God did not give us a spirit of timidity, but a spirit of power, of love and of self-discipline.” And Romans 8:15 “For you have not received a spirit of slavery leading to fear again, but you have received a spirit of adoption as sons by which we cry out, "Abba! Father!” and John 14:27 "Peace I leave with you; My peace I give to you; not as the world gives do I give to you. Do not let your heart be troubled, nor let it be fearful.”

For grief I turn to the Psalms 31:9 “Be merciful to me, O Lord, for I am in distress; my eyes grow weak with sorrow, my soul and my body with grief.” And Proverbs 15:13 A merry heart makes a cheerful countenance, but by sorrow of the heart the spirit is broken.

For confusion 1 Corinthians 14:33 “For God is not the author of confusion, but of peace…”

I feel like David as he poured out his anguish in the Psalms. Lost and crying out but my cries are silent. They don’t make it past my lips and certainly not to His ears. My heart is heavy; it is broken, ravaged with grief and pain. Fresh wounds have appeared from the recent losses of the and are pulling on the strings of familiar feelings from years gone by.

I know that this battle is spiritual. I know that He knows what is happening but I also know that I have to do my part to overcome this situation and that is where the trouble lies. I am paralyzed. I can’t seem to make myself reach out to Him who holds the key to my salvation.

I have read some of my favorite scriptures for solace but have come up dry. On bended knee I am silent, often angry, bitter and void. I am walking this minefield alone hoping to awake and find that the battle is over and I am rescued from this misery.

And the God of all grace, who called you to his eternal glory in Christ, after you have suffered a little while, will himself restore you and make you strong, firm and steadfast. 1 Peter 5:10

Praise be to the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ, the Father of compassion and the God of all comfort, who comforts us in all our troubles, so that we can comfort those in any trouble with the comfort we ourselves have received from God. For just as the sufferings of Christ flow over into our lives, so also through Christ our comfort overflows. 2 Corinthians 1:3-5

The LORD is my rock, my fortress and my deliverer; my God is my rock, in whom I take refuge. He is my shield and the horn of my salvation, my stronghold. Psalms 18:2

Do not be anxious about anything, but in everything, by prayer and petition, with
thanksgiving, present your requests to God. And the peace of God, which transcends all understanding, will guard your hearts and your minds in Christ Jesus. Philippians 4:6-7

But I know that my time is not at hand and I won't be going any where any time soon so I need to find a way to break out of this prison, open the gates and allow Him in so that he can do what needs to be done to help me move forward and find the peace that surpasses all understanding.

I Am a Motherless Child

All my life I have felt like this - a Motherless Child. I have spent countless hours in therapy and thousands of dollars trying to come to grips with this. Over the past few years, I even reconciled myself to this and accepted my mother for who she was instead of who I thought she should be to me. I had found peace through my relationship with God and friends who supported me through things in my life when I should have had the love and support of my mother but it was not to be found.

I even tried to convince myself that my thoughts about my life were wrong. That all those feelings of not ever being good enough, years of being considered the "black sheep" and all those sarcastic barbs and put downs were just my imagination. The notes over the years ignoring the real issues in my life but reassuring me that she was praying for me, when I didn't need prayers but love and financial assistance, would have been better served as kindling for my fireplace but kept them because it was a connection to her. I have every card, note, letter and newspaper clipping she sent me. I gloss right over the frilly Hallmark cards filled with words expressing love and caring because I never believed them and zero in on the ones telling me she could care less what is happening in my home because it's between God and I, but she is praying for me. The last one coming at a time when I didn't have a pot to piss in, was a broken down wreck because my ex-husband had physically, mentally and verbally abused me and our 10 children but she couldn't be bothered with the details of that. It would have meant getting involved, showing she cared and well I now know she didn't not then and especially not now.

Yesterday my greatest fear was exposed to me in such a way that there is nothing that can convince me that everything I felt my entire life wasn't the truth. Yesterday my mother disowned me in such a way that there is nothing she can say that will ever erase the words from my mind or make me believe anything other than my truth.

"You are the lowest of the low. If this is how you treat FAMILY then I want nothing to do with you. We have decided to change our will. We will split everything between your siblings and leave you $1.00. No one asked you to take those children. You should have let them go into foster care, gotten them to support those kids and so on."

Those words and the rest of what she said to me will forever be etched in my brain. I spent the entire day yesterday in a fog. My head throbbed, my stomach knotted and rolled. I didn't eat. I was a zombie. I talked to friends, I talked to God. I ranted and raved to my husband, who heard the entire conversation. I awoke this morning pretty much feeling the same way and then I went to church and cried my eyes out to God. The one who has been with me through everything and has kept me from going over the edge time and time again.

What did I do to cause her to react like this ? Nothing. That is nothing to her. Nothing that she should have even had a say in but then my mother is her own woman and she picks and chooses when to be involved in her children's, grandchildren's and great grandchildren's lives.

My nephew and his wife had three children in three years. I am raising all three of those children. I have custody of the oldest but adopted the other two after they came to me and asked me if I wanted them because they were going to give them away. No one else in the family stepped up or even offered assistance but I took them because they are my FAMILY. All three children have issues of some sort due to the fact that their parents abused drugs, alcohol and each other during each of the pregnancies and that behavior still continues. I have not received any support for the children from them. As I adopted the two younger ones that was not an expectation regarding them. But the first child, the one I have custody of, is a whole other story. He constantly reminds me that she is their child, loudly, verbally, with great force and unkind words. Yet he has done nothing to support her because he's in and out of rehab and jail. She has been diagnosed with separation anxiety and adolescent bipolar disorder. A hell of a combination. We have been in therapy and we have a lot on our plates in handling her but we have not complained or asked ANYONE including my MOTHER for assistance. She prefers not to be involved remember... We max out of the insurance coverage for her treatment which is out of network and 40% out of our pocket after we meet the family deductible of $2,000.00. She can get Medicaid to cover her treatment once we max out if we apply but one of our requirements was to apply for child support from her parents before Medicaid would consider her case. So I filed the paperwork and they were notified. With all that said, it wasn't about the money and I seriously doubt we will see it but it was a step I had to take to get our child, that I have had and raised since she was six weeks old (when they called me and asked me to come and get her from a hotel room they were living in), the help she needs without going bankrupt in the process. Apparently he has split once again from his wife and he ran crying to his mother (my sister) who in turn ran back to my mother with his story of the blues. No one called or asked me anything but obviously assumed what he said was the gospel truth and I'm sticking it to him as a money hungry person.

So you see, the kids that no one asked me to take - they are her great grandchildren whom she says should have gone into the foster care system so that the state could pay for them. They are her FAMILY that she referring to. When is it the state's responsibility to take care of family? Part of her words in her rant was that "family takes care of family and doesn't try to tear each other down." I guess there is a double standard there that doesn't include me and my FAMILY. We have always been treated differently and torn down by her and her actions toward us. I guess she just hasn't noticed or doesn't care. And if you don't believe me then keep reading.

My children have never spent a night with my mother. They have never spent a day with her when I haven't been around. She has never interacted with them just because they are her grandchildren and she wants to have a relationship with them. She doesn't send them birthday cards or birthday presents consistently I can count the number of times she's done so on one hand. She did do Christmas for them but last year decided that since my 16 year old hadn't bothered to call her that she didn't deserve a Christmas present. My mother comes to Richmond at least once a week, passes by my street and never stops by and never calls. I have been in my house for 6 years, she has been here 5 or 6 times which is about the number of times, if not more, that she's been to my sister's house but she's only lived there a year. My nephew's oldest child lives down by my mother. She spends the night, stays for weeks at a time, travels with my parents and gets the treatment from her grandparents that every child wishes for. My sister (the kids grandmother, my nephew's mother) lives 3 miles away from me. We might see her once a month, if we are lucky, but she goes to my mom's to see or get her other grandchild (mentioned above) and lets her spend the night, takes her to the beach, etc. all the time... My mother goes up to Maryland (4 hours away) to see my other sister on a regular basis. Spends time with the new grandchild and does everything a grandmother should do but what she NEVER did with my children. They even drive out to Michigan to spend time with my brother's kids but remember my kids live 45 minutes away. I don't suppose I'm imagining the slight, do you???

The sad thing is that my kids have always felt the slight and I have tried to buffer them from it. Over the years they constantly commented on how Nana treated everyone else different from them and how she treats me different from my siblings and I've always made excuses and tried to deflect them from that thinking and reassuring them of her love. How dumb is that? What a joke. What a lie. What a life. For what? To let it all end like this?

Yesterday I became a motherless child. Something I will make sure my children never experience whether I live to see them grown or not, they will know that I was and I will be with them (through memories and in their hearts) loving them and supporting them forever.

The Happiness Project - Remember Love

January goals: Go to bed earlier, start exercising again and organize my home office

This month's focus is on love and marriage. Rubin notes that, "working on my marriage was an obvious goal for my happiness project, because a good marriage is one of the factors most strongly associated with happiness...the atmosphere of my marriage set the weather for my whole life" (39). Scientific study, anecdotal evidence and my own personal observation certainly confirm that, arguably the most primary relationship in an adult's life, the marital relationship has a strong impact on happiness.

Today is about reflecting on where you are, and brainstorming where you want to be.

Minivan mom’s post set me to thinking and feeling a bit melancholy because her words pierced a place in me that I thought was healed, but I obviously still have issues with. My first marriage ended.in.divorce. While I agree that it is best to stay married, even in an unhappy marriage, for the sake of the children, I couldn’t. Not only was it unhappy but it was abusive on several fronts. I stuck with it for the sake of our kids – all 10 of them, for as long as I could but when it got to the point that it was just as detrimental for them as it was for me; and when I knew it was a choice between which one of us lived and which one of us died, then I knew it had to end. And in theory so did I. I fell to pieces literally. I was mentally void of any kind of rational thought, action or emotion. I functioned on auto-pilot, anti-depressants and Valium. I was Humpty Dumpty and during that awful time of my life I never thought I could/would be whole again.

The depth of my bitterness, resentment, hatred and anger could not be measured and the idea of another man entering my life was as likely as a snowball surviving a minute in hell. For two years, I worked hard at restoring my children and myself. I lost a few battles and won a few along the way trying to fight for what I thought was fair and just through our judicial system and at the hands of men found myself being victimized all over again because in the south the “good old boy” network is still alive and thriving. The healing process continued though through a group of friends that stuck closer to me than my family and continues to do so. My faith and trust in God saw me through the pit of hell and one day in my world of darkness and despair, the sun started to shine and I started to grow once again – grow confident in myself, my abilities as a woman/mother/friend and a contributing member of society. My job afforded me the opportunity to support my family and travel. Life was good and although I was alone, I was ok. More than ok. I was ecstatic because I had survived. I was tired but not weary, a little overwhelmed but not drowning. I wasn’t whole but I was no longer broken in a million little pieces. And when I least expected it my whole world got turned upside down again.

I met someone while traveling for work. I wasn’t looking, didn’t make the connection and gave little thought that this was more than a chance meeting. Little did I know that there was something much greater in the works. I met my soul mate. The person I was destined to be with. Not because he made my life wonderful and perfect because he didn’t and it’s not; but because he came into my life when I was so much less than I was when I met my first husband but he could see beyond the brokenness into what I could become and he loved me all the more because of it.

Tony’s acceptance of me, my circumstances and my baggage was more than I had ever hoped for. Trust me when I say he got the short end of the stick. I’ve never been one to deny who I am or how I am. In fact, as much as I tried not to be, I am my mother’s child. A strong, independent, I don’t need/want anybody because I can do it all by myself woman! I know what I want, how I want it and don’t think I’m going to let anyone tell me differently; especially after all that I had been through. In my first marriage I was that submissive, subservient wife. I threw away all that I was to become all that I thought he wanted on any given day to keep the peace, to make the yelling, screaming and belittling stop. Not anymore. On the inside I had become hard, determined and fiercely protective of what is mine. In spite of all of this he made his intentions known, dug his heels in and has been holding on every since.

He had one child, a son; I had 6 still at home 1 son and 5 daughters. He’s laid back, relaxed and easy going. I am type A all the way – uptight, regimented and nauseated at the idea of a vacation lasting more than 3 days (Fri, Sat & Sun). Relax was a dirty word totally foreign to me. I didn’t do much laughing, crying or having fun. I was in a groove that didn’t sway left or right but went straight down the line and it took an act of God to move me off of it but He did and I have. I zig, I zag, and I love life a whole lot more when I look at it from his perspective rather than my own. He wipes my tears, holds me in the night when the nightmares creep back in and he laughs with me and at me when I do stupid stuff for reasons unknown even to myself. He loves the salt and pepper hair – no “Nice n Easy” happening in this house and has fattened me up with his cooking and loving. Where there was once despair is now hope, where there was once ashes there are now flowers blooming – dreams on the horizon. I radiate from my head to my toes thanks to God and my husband.

These past two years have been good ones for me. I know that I could not appreciate all that Tony is if I hadn’t experienced the bad. He has taught me a lot about life, living, loving and trusting. I wouldn’t have learned the art of compromise and letting go of the small stuff or even how to laugh at myself and stop being so uptight if it weren’t for him. I can’t say that everything has changed for the better because in some ways they haven’t. We still have our struggles with the kids, finances, jobs, family – you know... life. But we’re in it together and we respect each other enough to walk away and give the other space when needed. That was essential for me because I had to learn to share my space with someone again, to trust my heart to someone again knowing full well that he could hurt me but be willing to step out on faith that even if he does that it isn’t the same and never will be. I’ve had to let go of the past hurts and prejudices and say ok, let’s give it a try and see where it leads. I’ve had to lower my expectations and free him from the incredibly high standards I had set in my mind so that he could be free to be himself and not who I would have molded him into. I had to take the lessons from the past and apply them to this relationship thus making it stronger and better than any I’ve ever had or hoped to have.

My husband challenges me to be a better person without even knowing it. The dreams he has for us stretches me in ways that want to send me running the other way but instead I move forward, taking it one day at a time, working my way through it until it feels right and I can embrace it totally. No pressure, no strings attached, no hidden agenda and no skeletons lurking in the shadows to pull me down. I am free to come into my own.

What keeps me awake at night is the feeling I have of the scales being unbalanced. For all he has given me I wonder what I give him other than a hard time. I lost so much of myself and don’t feel like I’ve gained it all back and therefore he’s missing out on those things. Like how I used to be so easy going, loving and forgiving. It was a seamless part of me and now it takes concerted effort to do all of those things. I have to choose to love, to relax, to forgive and some days to just live and not let the ghosts of the past pull me down into the darkness again.

His acceptance of me is so much more than mine of him. In my mind I replay things over and over and have to talk the walls down more often than not but he doesn’t complain, he just accepts. I throw myself out there giving and giving and often have little left to give at home but he accepts that as part of who I am and tries to protect me from myself. I’m not as understanding all the time. I can be selfish, self-centered and judgmental. He looks out for his family, always putting our needs first. He thinks the whole thing through and is willing to take a chance whereas I’d play it safe and close to my chest.

Nonetheless, it is working for us. I love him for who he is, how he is and just because he is. I love that he loves me, my children (our children) and has made our house a home. I love that he has seen me at my best and my worst and finds he is willing to accept them both. And even though he is younger than me, he is much wiser when it comes to certain things in the world that could present a clear and present danger to us.

What I hope for the future? More laughter, more love, more hope and joy. I’m slowly wrapping my brain around a trip to Disney, possibly a cruise and a vacation that is a week long. I’m looking forward to aging like fine wine with him; to watching the children grow up, welcoming grandchildren and reaching for all that is awaiting us and then some. At this point, there is a future and that is the greatest blessing of all.

Emotions abounding

Fall is here and it seems as if emotions are falling out of the trees instead of leaves. I've had several friends send me notes expressing their feelings about various issues in their lives over the past few days and while I could empathize with some, others I could not; nevertheless, because they are my friends and I love them I shared in their feelings. I ached because they ached, rejoiced because they rejoiced, and hurt because they were hurt.

I received this poem today and although I remember reading it many years ago today it struck me as if I had never read it before. I have not yet reached the point when I have had a good soul / life cleansing cry. In fact, I have yet to master crying for a period longer than 5 minutes; but there is hope for me yet, this I know. One day I too will have my day to cry for all the things that have hurt me, mine and the world in which I live. I revel in knowing that when that day happens that it will be by divine appointment and I will have nowhere to go but up once I am done.


Yesterday I Cried
by Iyanla Vanzant

I came home, went straight to my room,
sat on the edge of my bed,
kicked off my shoes,
unhooked my bra,
and I had myself a good cry.

I'm telling you,
I cried until my nose was running all over
the silk blouse I got on sale.
I cried until my ears were hot.
I cried until my head was hurting so bad
that I could hardly see the pile of
soiled tissues lying on the floor at my feet.

I want you to understand,
I had myself a really good cry yesterday.
Yesterday, I cried,
for all the days that I was too busy,
or too tired,
or too mad to cry.

I cried for all the days, and all the ways,
and all the times I had dishonored,
disrespected, and
disconnected my Self from myself,
only to have it reflected back to me
in the ways others did to me
the same things I had already done to myself.

I cried for all the things I had given,
only to have them stolen;
for all the things I had asked for that
had yet to show up;
for all the things I had accomplished,
only to give them away,
to people in circumstances,
which left me feeling empty,
and battered and plain old used.

I cried because there really does
come a time when the only thing left
for you to do is cry.

Yesterday, I cried.
I cried because little boys get
left by their daddies;
and little girls get forgotten by their mommies;
and daddies don't know what to do, so they leave;
and mommies get left, so they get mad.

I cried because I had a little boy,
and because I was a little girl,
and because I was a mommy
who didn't know what to do,
and because I wanted my daddy to be there
for me so badly until I ached.

Yesterday, I cried.
I cried because I hurt.
I cried because I was hurt.
I cried because hurt has no place to go
except deeper into the pain that
caused it in the first place,
and when it gets there,
the hurt wakes you up.

I cried because it was too late.
I cried because it was time.
I cried because my soul knew that I didn't know
that my soul knew everything I needed to know.

I cried a soulful cry yesterday,
and it felt so good.
It felt so very, very bad.
In the midst of my crying,
I felt my freedom coming,
Because Yesterday,
I cried with an agenda.

Today...

I wish I could go back to being numb. The gamut of emotions I've experienced today is enough to make me walk around in a Prozac, Cymbalta, Valium haze for life. I understand the alcoholic and drug addicts need to self medicate – TOTALLY, at times, even enviously because I have too much discipline to let go of the control.

I quit, really I do. I refuse to let myself be in this position again. What a joke those words are. I promised myself when I left my ex-husband that I would never let him hurt the kids or me again and during this whole custody thing I've tripped up time and again and been hit square between the eyes by him but today has been the worst. Part of this is about me and my demons too. Sores I was willing to bet Vegas style on that they were healed have had the scabs ripped clean off and are pouring out blood. For the umpteenth time my heart has been ripped apart and left hemorrhaging at the scene.

But what can I do? Pray and let it go? I can't, not right now. I'm not super-Christian; my flesh is still stronger than my spirit and the need for vengeance is running through my veins. Yet I've been castrated by my conscience and so I will cry, rant, rave and wallow for my child and my inner child and then I will pick myself up, tap further into resources that can help me try to explain this to my children and try to implement this with the least amount of tearing apart as possible. Because, that is who I am.