Saturday, May 11, 2013
I never wanted an ex, and I have to say, that fact that I do is both very unsettling and very unfair.
I spent the majority of my childhood praying for my future husband. i prayed for his wisdom and spiritual growth, both his physical and spiritual; protection- I prayed that he would love the Lord and and not be sucked into the evils that this world has to offer masquerading as fun and normalcy. Yet here I am, scarred, scorned and burned by the very person I thought I was praying for. I was not wanted...not enough anyway. I was definitely easy to get over-apparently. One minute he's laying on the floor saying he wants to die, but that God told him he wouldn't be alone long; less than a week later he is "in love" with a chat room girl in Australia.
He fell hard, and he fell fast- all the while sharing intimate details of both our lives in order to accumulate pity. Funny thing, she ended up burning him the exact same way he did me. But as is his way, he quickly moved on to another unattainable fling that he was "so in love" with. Seriously, this guy falls in love at least once every 3 months. I'm beginning to think he has absolutely no idea what it really means to love. At any rate, # 2 didn't last either...even with all the pet names,incessant texting and inappropriate pics they sent each other( don't ask how I found out, just rest in the fact that I have now realized he is both a perv and still a liar....) and now he has moved on to #'s 3 and 4. (This basically is achieved by setting your sights on one while growing a "friendship" with another-who by the way dumped her boyfriend for him and knows his feelings for #3..this girl seems truly lame, but I have to say, I don't completely hate her yet,lol.)
I say all this because looking back, I haven't had too many romantic "movie moments". The kind of moments where you can practically hear light songs in the background. Yet he is getting them with these girls. And who I love now has gotten them in the past. But here I remain. Don't get me wrong, I have had more with who I love now then I ever had before. But I just feel so old and stupid and ugly right now. This may seem pretty shallow of me, but I am woman and am prone to those moments. As I write this, I have just about 2 hours before my night shift at my new job (head hung low, it ain't glamorous), I am covered head to ankle in either violently itchy blisters from poison ivy or the crusted scabs that healing from them are leaving me with, I have re-gained at least 20lbs that I have lost...and I have been reminded at least 8 times in 3 days that I will be turning 32 next month.
I'm beginning to wonder when my moment will come- my vindication. At what point, if ever, will God finally raise me from the ground, dust me off and show the world that i'm His daughter again? When will those who have wronged me be punished, those who have laughed at me stand with mouths agape, when those who have believed lies learn the truth????
This was actually written 4 days ago when i was at my lowest point this month so far. I have LOTS of these. Watching the people who have destroyed your heart and the hearts of those you love continue on blissfully down their petal laden paths is almost maddening. It's like they just get away with murder, because they did. They killed who we used to be,who we wanted to be with them. I know I am not who I want to be anymore, but I'm beginning to think that's the process. Seeds are buried deep within the earth with dirt piled upon them. They are hidden away from the light where it is dark and cold and it rains on them. This rain covers them in mud. But without that rain and the protection the darkness provides against the blistering heat of the sun, it would not be able to grow. And also, for it to grow, it cannot stay as it is. It does not get a say in what it will become. All it can do, is wait-seemingly alone for days on end-then, crack and split it's skin and give birth to new life. From within it will be given insurmountable strength to push aside the filth and cold and darkness and break through to the light and finally blossom into what it's Creator had in mind for it's life. That's why, whether it's an orchid or a redwood, it's a miracle....because quite frankly, those are the seeds that end up being put in places of awe and wonder- and it's the dandelions and weeds that get to easily and quickly sprout up anywhere the wind blows them. It's also those same plants that no one wants, and they get ripped up and mowed down again and again.
Saturday, March 23, 2013
You have released me from my torment
sent me soaring to places I've never found
Then in an instant it all changes
as you yank me back down.
Sometimes I swear you do it just so you can control
one last shred of your life
that you can choose to hold or let go.
You know that you own me, from day one
I was a fool
I let you know too much too soon,well played
you were cool.
You played your hands but always keep that Ace
meanwhile I betrayed all my thoughts and hands
on my face.
They say I'm cold,distant and cruel and I wish I had become
the very fact that I'm not has proven what they say.
I've never been here before and I don't know this road.
I've heard of it in nightmares from others who have told
of broken promises and lies and half committed hearts
and how talks of forever tear braided cords apart.
Now all I long for is the boisterous solitude
of a mundane life taken for granted
surrounded by my brood.
Tuesday, March 19, 2013
So I'm having a hard time this week, and trying desperately not to complain (too much at least) about it. Somewhere along the line, my stay at home status seems to have earned me the right to have to deal with people assumiong that I have no desire to work and just want a man to take care of me. You know, the whole Peg Bundy bonbon eater thing. This couldn't be further from the truth. I actually loved working when I actually did it for a paycheck. I have been a waitress in an upscale Victorian tearoom (LOVED IT!) and I have taken care of mentally disabled residents in several group homes (that could be a challenge, but also real fun) and then there was my last and most recent job of educating mother's and fathers...an the community.... on breastfeeding and the benefits of it.That one was darn near my favorite one thus far. It was a desk job, and although I'm more comfortable up and moving around, the desk did give an air of importance that I've never felt before.
Well, I'm beginning to realize the ability to work and actually generate a sustainable income while being at home for my children is becoming darn near impossible. And not from a lack of trying have I learned this. I have been and continue to sell items and services on Craigslist and eBay and Fiverr but responses are few and far between, as are people's interest. I want to be here for my children not so that I can sit around watching TV( don't have TV-I actually cancelled it to save money and because, let's be honest, is there really anything on it worth subjecting our children to anymore???) but so that i can continue being their teacher, full time parent and support. I hope this doesn't open up a can of dump on Maria, because I don't have an evil thing to say about working mothers. I was the child of a single working mother for years, and I have NOTHING but the utmost respect and awe of them and how they juggle EVERYTHING without cracking.
But I need a job, and I need one, like, yesterday. I have filled out so many applications it was like a rendition of This is your Life for me for a while. I actually loathe applications now. I find ads on Craigslist and in the paper, but most are scams or dead ends with no leads. I don't know. This is partially the reason I attempted the fast the other day. I seriously need guidance from the Lord. I need hope. I have no problem at all admitting that I am a stupid human being who has no business trying to make her own decisions for her life. I have too many people counting on me and I can't afford to fail. The only the way that that is to going to happen is if God leads me where and how I should go.
Sunday, March 17, 2013
Clearly, He was no wimp. And He also fished with his disciples and helped them haul up a net so full of fish that it began to break. That takes some serious strength!
And even His death; any regular man-let alone the wussy version of Jesus- would have died simply from the beatings He took, but Jesus survived the beatings, the crown of thorns, the lack of sleep and hunger/dehydration that came with the Crucifixion. Personally, I think it was the suffocation that finally ended Him up there.
This past Friday, I learned firsthand how strong and tough my Lord is when I attempted my first no eat fast.
I have done different variations of fasting before- all very hard, but extremely beneficial and spiritually amazing. The first 3 days have always been the hardest. I've done the 30 hour famine my sophomore year in high school, the fasting from TV for a week as a senior in high school and the Daniel's Fast for 11 days 2 years ago (that was unbelievable!) But things in my life right now have been so painful, so confusing and so seemingly left-to-chance that I have been praying nonstop for answers and direction from the Lord, but with no seeming answers in sight. Some days it seems like there is no hope and I'm am terrified. Other days there are nothing but options upon option but everythig hinges on something else that hinges on something else. It's an insane domino effect. It's like when we were trying to buy the house here in WV. We needed a job here to get approved for a loan, but we needed a home with an address to be able to get work. See tat vicious cycle? That's kinda where I am now.
So the other night I woke up around 4:30am from a terrifying nightmare. I have always had this reoccurring dream that this monstrous wave is building on the crest of the sea a few houses down from where we used to live in NJ and just before it breaks, I rush inside and cover my children and hold them tight and cry and pray. We can hear the roar of the waves covering the house and glimpses at the window reveal dead bodies, cars and debris floating by or submerged. It's a horrifying sight, but somehow, we are always ok.
This time my dream happened much like all the other times, except for the fact that the wave crashed through that big bay window, glass shattering all around us and my children are screaming. I see the wide eyed terror on 4 little faces, my youngest screaming for me to help her as her curly head disappears beneath the rising water. I'm alone, one child drowning, one swimming toward me, one clinging to me choking and my only son is missing.
And I am alone.
There is no one there to help me reach my babies, and I have to try and choose, split second, which to save and which to leave in God's hands. The grief is literally breaking my heart as I awake sobbing and shaking.
I realized in that moment that I HAVE GOT to get God's attention and decided to fast. No food, for at least 7 days or until He answered me. I wrote down my top 3 questions and the signs I requested (kinda like Gideon did) to verify what the Lord wanted me to do and tucked the little paper away in my Bible.
The first hour or so, for whatever reason my stomach was in knots and I as i prayed I got hungrier and hungrier. Then after a bit, it just stopped. I made it all day without really telling anyone, but by 10 pm I was so weak. My head was throbbing and I just fell asleep to my oldest child petting my head. I awoke around 5am Saturday more in the worst shape then I have ever been in. Dizzy, nauseous, pounding migraine, weak and slurring my words( at least it felt like I was) I tried to sit up and drink some lemon water, but it just made me feel sicker. Sobbing, I stumbled downstairs and out to the kitchen where I drank some grape juice and nibbled on slice of bread. By the time i got upstairs I thought I was dying and passed out in bed. i haven't felt that weak and flimsy since S was born.
I woke up late yesterday and just felt so pathetic. I couldn't believe that I had given in to my flesh so easily- and when I had so many important things to get answered. I am still loathing myself, and even though I know God hears me and knows my heart, I feel like I just proved to Him why He shouldn't take my prayers seriously.
Jesus was no joke. He was no wimp. That man went 40days and nights in the wilderness without a thing to eat or drink. Yes, He is God, but He was also man and lived for 33 years in a flesh and blood shell that felt everything we feel. He went that long with 0 sustenance, was tempted with power and riches and the chance to give in and eat and could still have the strength and presence of mind to quote Scripture back and do warfare with the Devil. I love how Matthew 4:11 says the Devil left him, and angels came and ministered to him. I wonder if that means they fed Him, or ministered to His exhausted spirit?
At any rate, I have resolved to try and do the Daniel's Fast again. At least I am seriously thinking about it. I don't think I am strong enough to go without eating ANYTHING, but I don't want to let that get in the way of hearing my Father again. I need answers, ones that only He can give.
Tuesday, February 26, 2013
How quickly things can change, literally in an instant.
I was sitting in the woods today absolutely fuming at something that I'm sure will have escaped my memory in the coming months and I began to look over my life- but more specifically the past year. So much has happened and I have been put through so much that I can hardly believe that I am still sane.Maybe my sanity is still in question, who knows?
I have spent the past 12 months devastated at losing my best friend to mistrust and lies, feeling completely worthless as a woman and a failure at being the rock of a mother my children need, fighting panic attacks at the frightening realization that for the first time in my life I must be a sole provider/teacher/friend/entertainer/comfort and confidant to these 4 precious souls; I have fallen in love again and stupidly allowed another flesh and blood man to gain my fragile and tattered trust, realized that even though we are all different and unique we are also all ironically the same;I have cried,laughed,raged,questioned,feared,worried,prayed ,given up and continued on.
I have felt defeated and crushed but at the same time allowed myself to hope and dream.
I dream that my love of writing ends up slowly creating a ripple effect that happens to touch hundreds, or maybe even thousands of lives for the better.
I dream that my little hobby of photography somehow earns me enough money to purchase a real professional camera, and the pictures of the ordinary things in life invoke such a sense of beauty and emotion in people that I end up becoming a well known and sought after photographer.
I dream of somehow managing to save up enough money to put 20% down on this beautifully modest home here in West Virginia- the one that I found online today that sits on a 10½ acre piece of land that boasts a barn and 3 separate storage buildings; I dream of my children playing tag and hide and seek among the tall grass and only their shrieks and giggles at being found can be heard over the crickets chirping and bullfrogs groaning.
I dream that they grow up unscathed and almost better now then they would have been had everything remained the same. Although there are moments where I seem delusional, even to myself, I continue to allow myself to dream. Why couldn't it happen? Why couldn't miracle after miracle happen for me and my little family? Why couldn't it all work out and I finally get my life's happy ending? Isn't that, afterall, what Hope does?
The night that I started this particular blog, I knew in my heart- that even as tears flowed freely and scowls of resentment twisted across my face subconsciously while I typed away- even then I knew that I wanted this blog to be more than a place where I rant and rave and cry. My writings have never meant to be just about me, but rater to use me and my life's moments for the betterment of others. The Heart of Ruth was all about that, and even though it never became this mega-blog with throngs of eager followers, I consider it my greatest literary success. Now I want to try and continue that legacy that I started, even as I go through this new chapter in my life. I want to do my best to use my fears and failures to bring Hope and the ability to continue to Dream big to those who feel they shouldn't or can't allow themselves the privilege of doing so for themselves. The remaining 3 remain for a reason, and I intend on choosing JOY. Maybe not always immediately or easily, but rather eventually. Even if I never get to live my dreams, at least I tried to be JOYful while pursuing them.
Thursday, February 14, 2013
I have officially come to the decision that I am a complete and utter idiot. Either that or I am a magnet for pain.
Ever since I was a little girl, holidays have been an intricate and anxiously awaited part of my life. Every year, my my grandmother would have me or my grandfather climb up into the attic with all it's distant memories and familiar smells to retrieve a box for the upcoming holiday. Easter had painted egg wall hangings and obnoxiously colored wicker baskets with leftover plastic grass; Christmas gave way to the giant plastic manager scene and a cardboard fireplace from the 70's that was riddled with thumbtack holes from "hanging the stockings gently with care" for decades.
And then there was Valentine's Day.
Red,white and pink overtook the house for a week before til the day after. Hearts and lace and Victorian Scripted "I love you"'s everywhere. My grandfather would proudly have flowers delivered to our house for my Nan and waiting for the florist van to pull up for her was as exciting as waiting for Christmas Eve to give birth to early Christmas morning. Every year she acted as surprised and thankful as she probably genuinely was the first time he did it for her. My grandparents set the stage for how I was to view holidays for the rest of my life.
Which is why I blame them entirely for my yearly heartache and disappointments in these stupid time honored celebration of certain days. I grew into womanhood with the expectation woven throughout my being that someday there would be my loving husband, on Christmas and my birthday and Valentine's Day, our anniversary and Mother's Day, dutifully hearing my wishes and desires throughout the year and lovingly allowing me to cross each and every one off my mental list over time. To me, the love of a man towards his wife was more than just providing a shelter and utilities for his family, it was going the extra mile to do things he didn't necessarily want to do or enjoy because in the end, her smile and her feeling valued above all other women( if even for a moment during a holiday) was reflected in his smile and it bonded them together. Well, I got news for you.
It's all hooey.
This is what I've learned of holidays and their correlation to love since 1999.
- No man innately wants to do romantic things for his woman.It is purely a ruse- a type of primal hunting,if you will- to shoot down the female of his choosing so he can drag her off and say he was man enough to get her. He was just that good-that romantic- that she couldn't help herself. Ladies, once he has you...it's over. Your romantic dreams will now have to be scaled down tremendously from once dreaming of candlelit dinners and hotel getaways to settling for lukewarm meals you coked and compromising on a movie/tv program that you don't mind and he loves.
- "Just Because" gifts exist just because you watched a stupid romance comedy and some underpaid script writer gave the heroine in the film that moment that she didn't actually deserve, and now you in real life are hooked on having that same moment, sans script writer. Good luck with that.
- Holidays are rooted in evil. No matter how you spin it, when you break down the word you get "holy" and "days". I fully believe that you are responsible for what you know and so now, thanks to this new-found knowledge, there is a whole lot of guilt and inner turmoil for me. I was reared in the joys of celebrating holidays and now I discover that it was all wrong. I have learned that as a Christian there are 7 Holidays in the Bible that God only ever mentioned to be celebrated and observed, none of which include a tree or wall hangings or gift giving. In case you were curious these holidays are :
- First and Last Day of the Feast of Unleavened Bread
- The Day of Pentecost
- The Feast of Trumpets
- The Day of Atonement
- The Feast of Tabernacles (The Feast of Booths)
- The Great Last Day
Look, this little corner of the electrical universe was never meant to just be a daily or close to daily tirade about woe is me and how miserable am I. Truth be told, I do actually have good days. I do laugh-believe it or not I have a pretty intense belly laugh that has caused quite a few headaches. I find beauty in things around, hence the photography page on here that I'm working on. It's just that i also have had an awful lot of really bad and painful things to go through in my life., and when it gets to the point where you have a hard time remembering the days with a smile because the bad days outnumber them or you miss them so much you wanna cry, you need to vent somewhere. Since I have no "right there in front of me" tangible friends that I cry with or on, I blog. I used to be such an encourager and I've always been a great listener. But now, now it's my season for needing to be listened to and needing an encourager. I'm in a lot of pain. I get angry and frustrated at my life and how it twists and turns, and rarely in my favor anymore. I'm angry that there seems to be no end in sight to all the pain and bad and that the people I love around me are going through their own pain and bad and I can't ease it or make it stop.
This blog was meant to be a safe place to vent and to find the 3 things that remain...Faith,Hope and Love....because they are the only 3 that ever do. Even when your faith feels like it's gone, you know it isn't if you are able to keep hoping and finding away to open your eyes and get out of bed. Heck, there have been days where my act of faith was to open my swollen tear filled eyes in the morning and just stare. It was like my hearts little act of defiance against just wanting to be dead. Faith and hope shall always remain. Love, well the world's idea of love comes and goes. But true Love always remains, never changes, and will always always continue.....because God is Love.
Hey, i actually ended on a good note!
Saturday, February 9, 2013
One of the most painful parts of going through circumstances like mine is the remembrance of when things were better- days when there was laughter, nights filled with snuggling and feeling loved and needed....like the one who laid beside me could never function an hour without my love and affection.I felt so loved, I felt so valued and treasured. Going to bed angry was absurd.
Now, the reason I say that the remembrance of these things are so painful, aren't just because I don't feel these anymore- but because I can distinctly remember the night I realized that these memories were all false. I was kneeling on the floor in the dark at the foot of my bed; my whole world had just crumbled around me an hour prior and my destroyer lay snoring peacefully in bed, having unloaded years and years worth of secrets and guilt on me out of nowhere. Every good feeling and every moment of Wow, I'm am the luckiest woman alive was based on something that never existed. I had been in love with a lie that had masqueraded as reality from the very beginning.That's what hurts the most.
I can remember being looked at in intimate moments with so much desire, never realizing at that moment I was not the one that was being seen. Fights never happened and angry bedtimes didn't exist because I held my tongue so hard some nights I could almost taste blood. Simple requests were overlooked or forgotten and I carried on, sometimes feeling unimportant and when I finally demanded things that others receive so freely, they still were not meant to be and I would just shake my head and sigh it away. As long as I didn't complain too much or rock the boat, we were a happy family. The children could laugh and feel secure and memories could be made.
Now it's my time to be "selfish". Right here, at 2am...I make no apologies and I just don't care. Right now, I don't care what anyone thinks, how they take what I am about to write....I will worry about that tomorrow.Or maybe the next day.So here it goes.....
I have had it.
I am broken and I am tired and I have had it. I am a freaking human being. I get just as tired as the next person and I demand the same respect and rest time and help as anybody in my situation would. I am sick of being the only to do laundry and organize piles of clothing that are sky high. I am fed up with being the only one who can replace an empty toilet paper roll for everyone else's convenience but there is never one there for me. I am tired of cooking meals for people who are unappreciative and nit pick it apart from the way it looks to the way they "know" it tastes without ever even trying it. I am sick of everyone boo hooing about their lack of comfort when their level of comfort is something I crave. To wake and sit in front of a video game or computer or TV with my eyes glazing over....to have a hot plate of breakfast and a cold cup of coffee is something I have to wait for a holiday for to enjoy. To just decide, Eh-I don't see those toys strewn about or the spill on the table or the muddy paw prints tracked through the house. I'm gonna lock myself in my room, drop the curtain and let someone else deal with it- for me would be lunacy but for other's it's called Monday-Sunday.
I have had it.
I have been robbed of time. And dignity. And respect. I have to lend an ear and endure long conversations about others' woes and insignificant hardships and heartaches while the very fabric of my sanity somedays is barely a thread's worth. I have to pull pieces of myself apart like string cheese to this one and be a loving daughter, and these 4 to be a strong and capable mother, and this one to be a true and loyal friend and this one to be a patient and knowledgeable teacher, and this one to be a good-natured and sweet....whatever the heck I am, and this One to be a pure and blemish free servant.
I CAN'T DO IT!!!!!!
Ya wanna know what I want? I want to wake up every morning in someone's arms and hear Good Morning my Love and get sweet kisses. I want equal distribution of housework, and not it all put on me, along with educating the children, and making and cleaning up the meals, and cleaning up every mess I see, and raising the children alone and breaking up fights and disagreements and remembering what bill is due when and staying up til 4am trying to make finances balance and appease demanding debtors, and getting up to the minute reports on which- kid- did- what- thing- you- don't- like on top of texts starting out with "If you're not busy" or "Could you do me a favor?"....
When the Hades am I not busy?!
I want what every girl wants and deserves. I want compliments and lots of them. I've been stress eating and I'm too poor to go to the gym and I wanna know that I'm still beautiful to someone other than my 3year old. I want gifts- and not just scribbled drawings and yarn necklaces. (Do you know I lost a yarn necklace tonight? It was made by 7 year old daughter for me for Valentine's Day, because even she knows I never get anything on that day. She gave it to me early a few days ago to cheer me up because I had been crying about something. And do you know I bawled when I couldn't find it? What 30 something woman goes sobbing hysterically to a 7 year old to ask for forgiveness for losing a pink yarn necklace?? ME! While her father stood there asking what's the big deal? You're acting like some died, right there in front of of her!! Really?!
I don't care if holidays are pagan or commercialized or whatever the new reason is I have to get used to killing the natural excitement and anticipation of days where every other woman is spoiled....if it's on the calender and I grew up celebrating it, I want it to continue. A freaking handwritten note. A stolen flower from a wild hedge by my pillow. A $5 necklace that I can treat like a string of diamonds. Yes, i sound like a spoiled brat and like I said at the beginning- I don't care. Anyone who comes into my life is going to have exes that will have experienced and received things I never have and never will.That's not fair. Anyone who comes into my ex's life will get to experience and receive things I didn't.That's not fair. I will always either have arrived too late or have been the lesson learned from, but never the one babied.
I have spent my ENTIRE life caring and worrying about others' feelings, and what are they going to think and what are they going to say. The devil with my feelings and what I may say. No one replays their words in their heads for my comfort level, so screw it. Like the saying goes, If people can't handle me at my worst, they don't deserve me at my best. I can say with full confidence there is not one person under my roof who is hurting as much or is as scared or screwed or uncomfortable or jipped or robbed or broken or angry or whatever as me. I based my whole future, my happiness, my trust, my sanity, my security and my strength on something that NEVER EXISTED. Take everything you have been taught and known to be true...your very foundation and discover it was all a lie and then try giving your all and function properly and that's where I am. And you know what? I think all things considered, I'm doing a d@!* good job.
So, tirade over. GASP! I'm human. Welcome to a sliver of what goes on in my head when I'm not speaking. So just remember people, the next time you ask a woman, "What's wrong?" -you better actually care and be willing to hear it all....You may have no idea what's behind her casual,Nothing. I'm just tired.