Merry Christmas…

I used to love Christmas, but this year I don’t like it anymore. It’s just another day. I know it’s Jesus’s birthday and I’m happy that he died for our sins. But I don’t like this holiday. People are just fake. No one cares about anybody but themselves. It’s unbelievable to me the people treat each other so badly.

I’ve been trying so hard to figure out what I’m doing wrong. Why can’t I ever get it right? Why does it have to be so hard? Why does my family not support me? Why does my daughter hate me and won’t talk to me?

I was told by someone much younger than me, that I have never taken responsibility for my actions. I didn’t deserve to be a mother. I’m telling you I could have went through the internet and pull that girls hair out of her head. She doesn’t have a clue what I’ve been through. She’s never walked in my shoes. But she blames me for things she did as a child. Talk about taking responsibility for your own actions, please!!!

I don’t know what I’m going to do. I don’t know if I’m going to stay in California or I’m going to go back east. I know I’ve never dealt with any of my problems. I’ve always been told just keep on going. I wasn’t even supposed to mourn William but a week. You stand in somebody’s blood and tell me that it’ll only take you a week to get better. I drank and I drank a lot and yes I wanted to talk about it. But every time I did I was told to shut up. I just want to get better. I just want to be happy. I want my family back. But I won’t get it. Maybe one day my daughter will love me again. I hope so. I hope it’s before I die. If not then I’ll just have to live with that. Because I can’t make her do anything, I never could, I wasn’t allowed. I never had anybody that was there for me. People say it’s not all about you and I know that’s true. But they sure do think a lot about themselves and how they’re so much better than me. If that’s the way you’re supposed to be to be a good person, I don’t want to be one!

So, Merry Christmas…

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Dear Santa,,,

Oh, I thought long and hard before I began to write this. I feel that there has been enough time, although there is never really enough time. I had to learn the hard way, so it seems. Suicide, it’s debilitating. So, this time of year, fond memories start slowly creeping in…

Santa Claus, oh what a happy memory. I remember that some of the best days of my life were at Christmas and the worse days too. Even if it was not heartfelt all the time, people tried to keep it together a little better than the rest of the year. It was something in the air- the smell of red-eye gravy, homemade biscuits and coffee and it was death too. Uncle Harry died.

He was my dad’s youngest brother. He was extremely tall and apparently the blood reverses flow, at times and it didn’t start back for Uncle Harry. He worked across the street from the hospital that I was born. CPR would have saved him, but in 1967, it hadn’t been discovered.

On December 27, 1967 my baby brother was born, six months premature. The lining of the womb had a tear and he didn’t make it home to meet me. He would be 50 this year. Happy Birthday, baby Brother! I miss him and I never laid eyes on him. The months that followed were hard on my mom and dad. This is where mine and my mother’s relationship ceased to exist and we even know it. My mom, she’s tough, couldn’t show signs of weakness. I, however, could bring out the worst in her. It was definitely not the sign of a weak woman.

I remember good times at Christmas. Seems we could always count on Christmas making things “alright” again. Just give me a Sears and Roebuck catalog, oh my God I would sit for hours writing down page numbers, sizes. What Santa could get if they were out of this or that. I bet I must have had a hundred things that Santa could choose from and I just wanted one. But I would make a long list, just to make sure that I got something that I wanted. Something he didn’t have to worry about was me being picky. I wanted to make sure he had eaten his cookies and drank his milk. He had a lot of that on Christmas Eve night, you know?? I didn’t at 3, lol.

I just wanted to fill you in on the significance of Christmas. It was such a big part of my memories throughout my life. I didn’t realize it for a long time, but as I grew older and moved and moved and moved again, I would come back to the house. It wasn’t the same house, but it was their house, my parents house.

Everyone has to get up early on Christmas morning and if we didn’t spend the night there the night before, they waited on everybody to get there. That was a chore for Miss E. We ate a huge breakfast with grits, biscuits and gravy, sausage & cheese egg casserole. It wasn’t the same as when I was little, but for a little girl name Miss E, it was the beginning of her enjoyment of Santa.

How I miss those mornings, watching her open presents. One Christmas she’s hollering, “Oh Mommy, mommy I got socks!” If I could take it all back now, everything I ever did I would. But I can’t, so now I’m asking Santa to listen very carefully, because what I want for Christmas is not going to be an easy task.

I want to be forgiven, by a little angel named Miss E. I know I don’t deserve it, but I ask you with all my heart, to show her how to forgive me. So that she can go on and live, without regret. I don’t want to cause her anymore pain.

I used to sing to her until she went to sleep. She was in junior high before she wouldn’t let me do it anymore. “You Are My Sunshine”, I sang that song so many times. I’d be horse, but I did it over and over, just for her, because I loved her more than I love myself. I got lost and forgotten. Trampled on and beaten, until I couldn’t see the things around me. I gave up, not on her, but on me. She means everything to me. Some people say I was a bad mother. Maybe I was. People say that I’ve never taken accountability for my actions, never taken responsibility. They also blame me for doing things that even they knew they shouldn’t do. Because why?? Because they took responsibility and learned from their mistakes?? I on the other hand, should be a better person than that. I should not have allowed it. Maybe so. I don’t remember getting the memo on how you’re supposed to take on the weight of the world. Sure they may not get in trouble, but I didn’t even get the book on how to raise child and do it right.

No regrets. I do remember my mom telling me that I was a good mother. I was at one time. I don’t think I was that bad a mother. I did the best I knew to do at the time. They had no regard for what I wanted anyway, it was all about what she wanted and what they wanted and the hell with Kim and what she wants. She’s only the mother. The same people didn’t talk to me for 3 months after I told them I was pregnant and not married. These people were my parents.

Santa, take care of my Miss E. I always gave her the best of things. It wasn’t enough. I thought she had forgiven me, but apparently I was wrong. Give me the strength to not get mad when people say foolish things that they have no idea about. Help me to understand that I am human. That I’m not perfect and I have made a lot of mistakes. I would just like one day to be able to hold her in my arms again and love her the way I used to do when she was a child. Maybe coax her to call me sometimes, LOL. I don’t think she’s a bad person. I think she’s been misguided. I think she needs to learn forgiveness and compassion. Make the light shine on her this year. Let her know every turn every Moon every Star that falls from the sky that I’m there with her always. I will be with her even after death. I don’t want her to have to suffer and learn things over again and again like I have.

Thank you Santa. I hope I know what I’m doing now. Things have been so disorganized and bad since William died. It left me in a hell of a mess. I have nowhere to go anymore. I don’t have a purpose. But I’m trying to heal. I know people think I’m not trying at all, but I am. Also I just like to say this while I’m asking Santa, would you please give us this year.? I really feel like this year I’ll be at a point that she’ll understand me now. I think she’s grown up enough. Just open her eyes and let her see me! Because I’m not that bad person that I used to be. I’m her mommy or as she used to say, Mammy. Give her big hugs and kisses for me please and I’ll just wait patiently. I know patience is not my virtue, but I am learning to be more patient and understanding.

Thank you Santa. Thank you God. Bless everyone this year…

Dear Santa,,,

I’m Lost,Will I Be Found???

I don’t know how people do it. I guess I’m not as refined as most. I still have’t found my way back to life. I lost William, I lost my daughter and I got lost. It wasn’t very hard to do either. No one seems to notice that my life is at rock bottom. Of course I have to say this birthday was a HELL of a lot better than last year. Last year I was in jail for 25 days after that. This year I was just alone. Friends on FB wished me well, but Miss E still didn’t call, send a card or anything. My family included. The one thing that saved the day was a message I got. My mom leading the Happy Birthday song with a couple of other people chiming in. It brought tears to my eyes. I’m not sure, but I think one was my daddy.

I’ve been told that I am a spirit in a body, not a body with a spirit. I’m not quite sure I understand what that means. Except that maybe I inhabit a body and the body doesn’t inhabit me. It’s just a shell. Not who I am. Apparently, I’ve lived many lives. One in which I was not faithful to my husband, of an arraigned marriage. The guilt that I felt from this, left me with no choice, but to commit suicide. I always did what I was told, when I was told, no questions asked. Even if it was something I didn’t want to do, I did it.

These bad things followed me into this lifetime. I don’t really understand all of this but I feel that it’s close to the truth. I’ve lived 17 lifetimes. That’s why they call me an “old soul” I guess. You ever wondered about that?

I found that there are people here that want to do harm to me. Jealousy plays such a role in how people act and the way they treat people. It’s an ugly, cruel emotion. How can people live with all the negative energy around them? They just stir the pot to keep things going. With all this new information I should be able to amend my ways and move forward with my life, knowing now that I’m here to heal and help others. I want to be a better person than I have been. Its a shame that we have to hurt ourselves or other in order to learn the lessons we need to grow.

Some people never learn. They feel more powerful when they hurt others. They enjoy seeing them suffer. They get pleasure from it, but don’t give into their petty jealousy. Truth will prevail!

I’m lost, will I found???

 

 

After Time…

Hey, it’s me again. I’m at least going a month at a time now. I’m still with my roommate or as we say, life partner. We’re not together, as far as a sexual relationship. I find myself, at times, forgetting that part, lol. He’s true and true. 

We have been working on a new business. We’re trying to advertise his creations by imprinted on buttons, stickers or shirts. We are planning to pitch this very soon. I feel we will be able to get a start up loan. Just starting to apply, so I’ll get back to you on that.

Thanksgiving and Christmas were just another day. We decorated our little room the best we could. It was a pleasant reminder of the holidays. Still, Miss E never called, never text and didn’t send a thing. I don’t know why I would expect her to do anything else. Should I? My mom sent a few things haphazardly. But it’s the thought and I believe her heart was in the right place, I hope it was. I do have gifts for all of them. I’m  mailing them this week, late. But last year I sent nothing.

I made it through the holidays and then came January 15th. You probably think what so special about that day Cica. Well, it’s my William’s birthday. He died at 49. He never experienced his 50’s.  We never had the big 50th Birthday parties. We had planned everything down to the tee. This year was his 53rd birthday. I made a live presentation on FB to honor him. He would be very proud of me.  I now actually ride all public transportation that’s offered, including  Lyft and Uber or I just walk.

Walking is what I try to xdo. Ms K and I walked to dinner one night and I passed out standing up, twice by the table. Then on a trolley trip with my LP-lol, I took a dive off the two steps in the trolley. All air until I hit the floor. I slid, bouncing my head twice on the metal floor. It maked me weak, body aching, couldn’t walk home. I wasn’t even a third of the way there. By then, I realized I should probably go to the ER. I didn’t make it there though. I felt fine otherwise. But now  I’m going to be going to physical therapy. It’s been a couple of months since my swan dive-three ER trips and one Drs appointment. Tomorrow will be the assessment appointment. I’ll keep you posted.

 I’m finally ready to file my insurance claims on the 2 break-ins on the storage building, while I was incarcerated. Things that can’t be replaced is what I’m so upset about, but the way my life has been traveling since I moved to CA, I put nothing to chance. I’m learning patience, to be humble, watch my tone and especially my expressions. All of this is relevant to my life now. Everything happens After Time…

REALLY Living Without Him…

It’s been quite sometime since I’ve been here. It’s been a hell of ride and not all good. I’ve had most of my belongings, including William’s and mine wedding rings. All the photographs, baby books, teeth and hair from E growing up. Even her graduation pictures I had framed. I’ve even been arrested and I spent 49 DAYS in jail. I’m talking from murderers to gang members from the Cripps and Bloods .

I lost a lot of respect for my family. At least my dad made sure my mom sent money for coffee and things. E still hasn’t talked or gotten in touch with me. It’s been almost two years. There is nothing I can do about it though, she’s 21 now and a grown woman. While I was in jail, my mom told me they had already done enough for me in my lifetime and they didn’t want me coming back home. At least not now. I was devastated. I couldn’t believe it, but I had to accept it and now I’m trying to forgive them.

No one calls me or checks on me except my friend Steph. She also wrote a letter to the judge, on my behalf, for my final sentence. I believe it made a huge difference in my sentence. I was charged with two felonies and one misdemeanor.  The judge reduced my sentence to a misdemeanor and the low end of probation. I was blessed that day. This has been an experience that I would have never thought would happen to me. I had gotten caught up in a bad relationship and let this person manipulate me.

The afternoon, after court, I was released. I put the same clothes on and they gave me flip-flops to wear because I came in with no shoes on my feet. I had kicked one-off when they arrested me and they said with my attitude I could go without. I learned that you don’t fuck around with authorities, especially when incarcerated. They let you know real quick that you are nobody and remind you are in jail. Like you forgot. WTF…WE were under lockdown sometimes 24 hours, maybe more. My one salvation was we had an enclosed patio and we were allowed to walk to lunch and dinner. Some units weren’t allowed. Of course all our privileges were under the discretion of the Deputies.

As I walked out of my place of residence, I had never felt so free. The air even smelled different. I walked over 2 miles to the trolley station, with my brown grocery bags. I went into CVS and bought makeup, sunglasses and a backpack. With the jail being in this town, everyone knew what I was and where I had been. A criminal. They had given me an all day pass for Trolley. As the Trolley pulled away I finally could breathe. I had been freed.

Events after this have changed me forever. The guy I went to jailook with had been stringing me along and basically used me.  He led me to believe we were going to finally have a long-term relationship. Even had me looking for places to live. Needless to say we are not a COUPLE anymore. That wasn’t the kicker, all my belongings in storage had been stolen while I was away. Nobody gave a shit. I was told, YOU HAD TOO MUCH ANYWAY.

I’ve since been in and out of hotels, one was my regular place. I call it The Crazy 8, lol. On my 3rd SRO now. That’s Single Room Occupancy. They charge if you have an overnight guest. They tell you when visitors have to leave at night and some say only one visitor allowed at a time. It’s a lot different from anywhere I’ve been before.It seems to be working out for now.

I have a male roommate and he is tall, dark and handsome. Even better for my self-esteem, he’s 12 years younger  than him. Some days it’s as if we are 100 miles apart, but then I’ll catch him looking at me, like a look I used to see. Of course I’m snapped back in reality. We both agree that we are not in a relationship and either/or can do what they want when they want it. This man is gifted. Off the charts brilliant. Music, drawings, graphics  and the list could go on. He will find a younger, not so wrinkled woman, lol. He tells me I’m just a “mature” woman. I say he’s sweet, even charming and chivalry has not died, just as he said to me the night we met. This is REALLY Living Without Him…

In Three Days…

It will be three days until the morning of William’s suicide. Suicide has been a hard thing for me to grasp for the past two years. I’ve made so many stories up in my head I really don’t know what I believe anymore. 

I’ve found a gentleman who makes me feel like a woman and friend. He’s very straight forward and harsh at moments, but I think that I’ve known him before. You know, when I made the decision to come back to right my wrongs. It’s a struggle at moments, but I like him a lot. Maybe it’s love. It’s not the same. I can’t change this man to be what I had. 

We’re trying to get a place together and tonight we’re in Carlsbad, CA, on the way back from Oceanside. We had the most wonderful dinner. We were walking towards town and these lights caught my eyes. It was a winery Restuarant, PAEO. It was the first really nice dinner we’ve had since we met. 

The boat will be my new home. Live aboard status, as they say. I’ll have a HOME, again. It’s taken 2 years to be able to let myself try to love again. It’s very hard for me to think he’s really gone. These next days are going to be a blur. My family, Miss E have no memory of what’s gone through my mind. They thought they knew me, but I don’t even know myself. In the next three days…

This Time…

I find myself alone again, maybe the first time since I moved to California. This month is very emotional for me. This is August. The 12th was Miss E’s bday, the 16th my daddy’s. Then the dreaded 26th. That day all over again. My new beau seems to understand at moments. I believe he just gives up. He’s a person of words. The hit to the bone, but that’s not really him. He’s been through things that are so unbelievable that they have to be true. I just feel as if I’m paying for it sometimes. I “see” him. Not who he thinks he has to be.  Sometimes I can’t even look a certain way, it’s like he’s trying to run me off.

He was supposed to be going fishing tonight, but idk something happened and it’s going to be tomorrow night. I’m sorta glad he didn’t go,it meant he would hopefully come back to me. I’m selfish that way I guess. I also wish he had gone. He needed to be away from me as much as I needed to be alone. I haven’t written in so long. It’s my therapy, so why do I not take care of myself?

I’m so upset with Miss E, I could send her to the moon. She didn’t answer my text or my phone calls for her bday. I finally called and sang “Happy Birthday” and left it on her voicemail. Still, no answer. Not even FUCK YOU! I guess I really am the selfish, cold-hearted, bitch that everyone thinks I am. I really don’t care anymore. I just want to be ME. Whoever that is now. Some moments I feel as though I know who I am and what I want out of life. Other times I feel that no one understands me and I’m at the end of my rope.

The closer it gets to the “two” year anniversary mark I get more emotional. I guess in a way I feel that I’m not being faithful. In other ways, I forget, then there are days I want to crawl under a rock and hide from everyone and forget what’s happened. It works sometimes, even if just for a moment. But then the dreaded truth comes back to my head and I remember the last moments of “our” life together. The waking up with my remarkable husband, holding me and making love to me. Me, rolling over to ask what he wanted for breakfast and then off to make the coffee. I can’t remember if he even drank a sip. The last time I saw his living being, before it all ended and I lost my world. I found out how the world really is and what people think of me and who is also there for me, in a time that I need them. I’ve found that’s not too many people.

People forget. People don’t want to hear what you NEED to talk about. They use all your insecurities against you and hate you because they believe you to be a victim. I have been a victim, but I’m not using it as an excuse to like or hate me. I am who I am. I don’t try to be anything I’m not. I’ve had people tell me, “just be yourself”. The problem with that is I’m always myself. Maybe to afraid sometimes to say what I’m really thinking, but always me. This time…