Saturday, December 27, 2014

The Hole

Wandering the aisles of the grocery store I ask myself what it is that I am looking for, but I don't have the answer. I am searching but I don't know what for.  Suddenly it hits me.  I am looking for something, anything to fill the hole I feel in my soul. The hole that supposedly only God could fill if I'd let him, but I don't. I search for quick fixes. Food, hobbies, sex, drama. All leave the hole even bigger, but I just keep stuffing things in.  I need something every night to shove in the caverns inside me, to make me feel like I am still alive when so much of me seems cold and dormant, already dead and wasting away.

What am I afraid of? What can make me feel the fire of life and passion again? Why is it so hard for me to let go and let God?

Wednesday, November 19, 2014


The strangest thing I have learned since moving back to Colorado,  is the extent to which I left so many trails of bad memories. ..

Monday, November 10, 2014

The What Ifs

And some days the what Ifs strike.
What if my husband was willing to have a conversation with me... just because?
What if he could look at me with warmth and make me feel like I add something to his life ?
What if I spend the whole rest of my life this lonely?
What if I don't?

Monday, November 3, 2014


Yesterday the Huffington Post featured a front page full of readers stories based on the hashtag #beenrapedneverreported.  This morning I woke to a stream of overwhelming memories that just needed to be written.  Regardless of what my past holds, these things do not define me. Sure they were a part of shaping me, but everyone has their junk.  Most importantly, I have resisted writing details of my story because it seemed self-serving, wallowing, and pointless. Now I realize it really should be told. Not for any benefit to me, but because maybe others will learn that they are not alone.


I tried to tell them that nothing had happened.  But my journal said otherwise.  It was a hardbound book with a puffy purple cover. Something for silly little girls to write about crushes and best friends and breakups.  Mine told of long phone conversations with someone I had never met.  He was nice to me.  We talked for hours after school while I waited for my mom to come home from her college classes, my brothers did who knows what, and my dad worked.  I described my room to him, pink and sweet. A trundle bed and a closet where I hid the cigarrettes I stole from the grocery store each week. My black cat Domino following me wherever I went and kneading her paws across my chest,  purring as I stretched my tall eleven year old frame out on the bed.  He asked if I had heard of hide the quarter.  I had not.  We played our own version of it almost every day.  I hid the quarter somewhere on my body and he described how he wanted my hands to explore the landscape until he guided them to the right spot.  "Good." He said, "Now somewhere even harder to find." I giggled.  It was so forbidden, but it was exciting and fun.

We talked about my parents liquor cabinet and he encouraged me to try a rum and coke. It tasted terrible. But I drank it down anyway.  We talked about meeting up, and when we finally did, I saw that he was nothing like I had imagined.  He was shorter and full of acne.  He was not my age or anywhere near, that was for sure.  He saw me briefly, sizing him up, and then I hid.  But I didn't write about that in my diary. I translated my disappointment into an elaborate story involving alcohol and speed and sex.  It was my diary after all. No one would ever see it.  Until they did.

By the time the court date came around I had become a different girl.  I wore dark flannels, Guns and Roses Tshirts and torn jeans. I didn't take care of myself anymore. I was angry.  Guilt was eating me alive.  I threw up when they told me he had the names and phone numbers of over 120 girls in his room at his mother's house.  All between the ages of 11 and 14.  I was instructed to testify wearing something that would make me look more innocent.  A light colored collared shirt and a skirt maybe?

His eyes burned truth into me from his seat behind the defendant's table, but mine threw their own dose of truth back at him.  I threw up again when the verdict came back "Not Guilty."

Suddenly I knew there was no going back. I was tainted and torn. A liar who still had a secret that didn't seem to compare to the stories I had told. My best friend was dating a 15 year old, and one day after school, while she talked to him on the payphone, I struck up my own conversation with her older brother who was 18.  7 years wasn't such a big deal after all. Was it?  Besides, I was almost 12.  Within a few weeks he was driving out to Parker to meet me at youth group since that was the only place my parents ever left me, knowing I'd be under the supervision of another trusted adult.  I snuck him down to the basement of the old church house. He snuck my hand down his pants, and taught me what to do with what I found down there.  Then one day he disappeared. His mother told me sweetly that he had moved to Florida to be with his father.  There was no judgement in her pleading voice when she told me to please take care of myself.  She asked shakily how old I was, and when I told her, she said "Please, sweety, don't try to call him anymore, ok?"

The carelessness with which I put myself in situation after situation just asking for trouble became a life long pattern. And when I paid the price with violence, I knew it was what I deserved. A pennance of sorts. I wasn't about to make any reports.  Who would believe a little liar like me? And who would believe one person could be telling the truth about rape in her twenties after accusing someone of statutory rape as a child.  I had no credibility.  I had cried wolf as a child, and as an adult would have no one on my side if they knew.  As an adult I was raped twice.  Both times because I was drunk.  Both times I cried as he did what he did. I cried because I already knew I'd have to keep this time a secret too. I cried because I deserved it.  I cried because I wanted to be a better person than this.

Wednesday, September 10, 2014


Hurting myself has always been a way of life for me.  I have no idea why.  I suppose emotions have just been too sharp and overwhelming for me. Suicide has always been an option, and I have attempted several times, each time with the honest to God intent not to survive.  Each time God has intervened. I don't know why. So far I have not proven to be of any real significance to anyone but my children.  That's why when I feel like I am failing them, like they would be better without me, its hard not to jump down into the blackest emotional pit.

It may seem that I am just a week individual, not strong enough to withstand the normal ups and downs of life.  I would argue that the pain I feel is so strong, and so sharp, and so heavy, that making it this far sometimes makes me feel like I am pretty strong.  So why do I think I have more pain that is normal?  I have no idea.  I feel at times like I was born without the skin that protects the oversensitive nerves that we all have, but on an emotional level instead of physical.  I can tolerate physical pain just fine. In fact I have often inflicted it on myself.

I'm going to be honest. The last few weeks I have spent the majority of my physical energy on survival.  Not enough has gotten done on the house and with the kids. But each night I go to bed exhausted from the tireless thought processes spinning through my head. Never slowing down. Never stopping.  Like I'm wading through a dense jungle marsh without a machete.

Saturday, August 30, 2014

Full Moon

I've always been a little crazy,
Some days more than not
I've chased my share of friends away
Not one have I forgot.

But those still standing at my side
Have weathered scary stormy tides
They've learned this too shall pass and soon
I'll ride the waves and be the moon

Regret is in my DNA
I may not make it through,
I'll take the days and love the sun,
Each time it can shine new,

And tuck my head
and hide in bed
When the night binds up my mind
And sanity is hard to find,

And in the morn,
Each time I wake
I'll thank my God
for those that stayed


I have this rule.  No plungers, toilet bowl cleaners or vibrators are allowed as a part of a move.  I mean really, they need to be thrown away every once in awhile, and while the cleanliness issue is obvious for the first two, the third item is really left out as a matter of risk.  Am I really going to remember what box I packed my buzzy friend in when we get to our destination?  I'm certainly not going to write "Sex Toys" on the box, although Dan did that once when we moved just as a joke. I think the box was actually filled with Towels and soaps etc.  There were several helpful friends who were quite taken aback when that was the next box in line to be moved during our last few transitions. And what happens if someone is kind enough to want to help you unpack?  How'd you like to unwrap a used Rabbit while helping your friend unpack the non-essentials?

What if you die in transit in a fiery car accident leaving your parents and brothers to manage the things you left behind?  Good grief, I may be paranoid, but I even make sure my closest friends are on board for sex toy cleanup should anything happen to me every time I go on vacation. Listen, its not like I'm a hoarder of all things crude and pornographic.  I have one item at any given time.  One. But not when its time to move.

So this week was the perfect time to clean out my dirty little closet so to speak since Dan was out of town, we were almost done with showings and inspections, and me being the only one responsible for taking the trash out.  I pushed that bad boy carefully down in the trash can under my sink, thinking that my next job was trash collection throughout the house.  I'll get there, I told myself.

Then the phone rang.

There was a showing scheduled, and as we were still not officially under contract it was important not to cancel showings.  I gathered the kids up as quickly as I could, kenneled the dogs and headed out.

And hour later we walked back in the house, and as I went to let the dogs out of their kennels I heard, through the wall, my bathroom trash can vibrating violently, and the door to the bathroom firmly shut.

OMG how did this happen? Were they digging in my trash?  Did someone touch it?? Are they going to tell my realtor? There is this portal where they can post their feedback regarding the house online. They could totally post "House showed great until my child pulled a vibrator out of the trash can." "Great house if you're a freak" "Beware of vibrators"

I mean this mofo was pretty big! I can just hear it in my horrified head: "Look Mommy, what is this toy for?"

The plot thickened.  I recieved an email from my realtor thanking me for letting the buyers in to look around again today.  The buyers.  The people who I have to sit across from at closing in a few short weeks signing my house over to their horrified mugs.  Its going to be great. "So, any interesting finds lately?"  "Which room vibrate- I mean do you like the most?"  

And this is why I have a blog. Because you can't just let a part of your history like this horrifying day slip out of your memory.  It needs to be recorded. Remembered. And hopefully eventually, laughed about.

Monday, August 25, 2014

Psalm 40:2

Psalm 40:2 2 "He drew me up from the pit of destruction, out of the miry bog, and set my feet upon a rock, making my steps secure."

Sunday, August 24, 2014


By the end of the day, the cloud lifts and I can see again. But the darkness still taunts from just below the surface. Sneering at me every time I smile or laugh.

Saturday, August 23, 2014

Whisper- Evanescence


Catch me as I fall
Say you're here and it's all over now
Speaking to the atmosphere
No one's here and I fall into myself
This truth drives me
Into madness
I know I can stop the pain
If I will it all away
If i will it all away

Don't turn away
(Don't give in to the pain)
Don't try to hide
(Though they're screaming your name)
Don't close your eyes
(God knows what lies behind them)
Don't turn out the light
(Never sleep never die)

I'm frightened by what I see
But somehow I know
That there's much more to come
Immobilized by my fear
And soon to be
Blinded by tears
I can stop the pain
If I will it all away
If i will it all away


Fallen angels at my feet
Whispered voices at my ear
Death before my eyes
Lying next to me I fear
She beckons me
Shall I give in
Upon my end shall I begin
Forsaking all I've fallen for
I rise to meet the end

[Chorus x3]
Servatis a periculum [save us from danger].
Servatis a maleficum [save us from evil].

Monday, August 18, 2014

This Time it's Going to be Different

How many times do we say that to ourselves? Not that we should stop trying, but still.

I always think this time it'll be different. I'll be different. I'll keep it all packaged inside with nearly neatly tied bows, and stiff sides that don't allude to the bulging mass of emotions that are always swarming beneath.  But this time it really is different. Because this time I know it won't be. It's a fresh start, but its not going to solve anything.  I'll hold on as tight as I ever have, but I won't hang onto the illusion that it will be easier here.  That doesn't mean it won't be good. I have every intention of doing my best to make the best. But I don't see how I'll ever be able to open up and have friends the way I have here.  The messy ends are just too painful and humiliating. And always the same. Its me. Too much of me. Too much emotion. Too much drama. Too much too much too much.  I will always be too much.  And never quite enough. Apportioned in all the wrong ways and places, and not really destined to make it very far.  Broken and muddling.

In the good moments my faith in God is so strong that I can trust and believe that he will fill in for all of the gaps. He will hold me together like some sort of cosmic glue. I am ashamed that in these darker moments, I find myself assuming  he won't.  Thinking that maybe part of God's will is for my life to be a lesson to others. But a lesson in what? Just a stepping stone, a tragic backstory for my kids to overcome in order to be stronger adults?

I find myself realizing, this time with a calmness and acceptance, that this charade will not continue forever.  There will be a time when I will implode.  You can't shove this much emotion down without the pressure slowly mounting.  And let me tell you, it is at an all time high.  I've come to the point where I can't open up the tiniest crack without a downpour squeezing its way out onto whoever happens to be too close at the moment.  I'm the TMI girl, desperate for someone to take on just a little of the weight inside, but even those little bits are too damn much, and they have no idea that the amount still stuffed inside is infinitely more, and bigger, and heavier.  Like Sylvia Plath and Anne Sexton (I'll never be the writers they were, that's not the comparison here) I'm just not meant to last here.  Good Lord, if Robin Williams can't hang on, how the hell can I?

I'm safe for now. I can't abandon my family in such a time, but I fear its only a matter of time. One or two breakdowns away... I just need to find a reason to fight it, rather than embrace it.

Monday, June 23, 2014

I Wonder

Sometimes I wonder if I just wasn't meant to make it through all this. I was built with cracks, sharp edges, chipped corners, and weak glue. And the showers have been wearing down all that glue.

I don't know if I am strong enough to get through this. There are a lot of times I think I really may not.

Saturday, June 21, 2014


Wondering on what day, if ever, I will know that I am no longer a ticking time bomb. Will it be when I give up? Or when I overcome?

Friday, June 20, 2014

Down The Rabbit Hole

It has been a difficult year. Not necessarily a bad year. It has had some really really really bad parts. But those have often been counter-balanced by good parts.  Here's where I'm at now: we are moving back to CO... which I have wanted with all my heart for the last 8 or so years. So this is wonderful.  And oh my gosh so freaking hard.  Our house finally hit the market this morning, and we have already had 4 showings.

In the midst of all of this I feel like I am losing my mind. My grip on reality. My emotions. My ability to relate to people.  The marriage went through some very hard times. I chose to stick it out again. One day at a time. I lost my best friend because she didn't want to stick around for the drama. And then when she left I just couldn't let it go. I made an ass of myself. And I have been spiraling ever since. I don't feel like that was the catalyst... maybe just the thing that made it show. That brought my crazy into the light. It didn't create it.

Last night I chose to smoke with Dan which was a terrible. idea. I almost never do it, but I have been so insanely stressed, busy, and upset that I felt it would be helpful. The first time it was. The second time it was. Last night it was like the walls I have been using to hold myself up just crumbled away and left me high, spinning, and dropping down into the despair I fight so hard to stay out of.  Suddenly all of the pain and regret and sorrow I have held in my heart was stripped bare, raw nerves exposed, and I felt like Alice falling down into the to rabbit hole.  I'm glad that Dan was there to make me stand up and helped bring me back to my senses a bit. But that weight I felt. The guilt. The sorrow. The shame. Was so heavy it will not soon leave my heart or mind. It made for a very heavy day.

I've been analyzing a lot, the way in which I process emotion, partly because the intensity of my emotions is curious, but also because Sara, and sometimes Gabriel seem to be showing that same searing intensity.  I believe it is likely related to ADD.  To start, I will say that through insecurity, or mental illness, I often don't actually connect with my emotions.  I know that sounds impossible, but let me explain.  When I feel, I feel super intensely... and yet there is this part of my brain that sits back analyzing my responses. Analyzing the validity of my feelings. Observing and carefully crafting interactions with people in which my emotions or emotional state is made known to someone around me.  It begins to feel like I am faking the emotion, so I step back, re-evaluate the facts, try to compare them against m reaction, and convince myself that I am being genuine, but I A) am too obsessed with how others percieve me - which ironically often backfires. and B) I'm not really normal.

So I read an article about ADHD and emotion, and something called flooding. Where someone with ADHD is capable of feeling something, but not without his or her whole brain latching onto that feeling and going full boar with it. That sounds just like me. And just like Gabriel, and possibly even Sara. Here's what my brain seems to do.  Picture a circle of Trumpet players, all facing outward and waiting.  When emotional stimulus happens its like a Bingo Ball popping into the middle of the trumpets, objectively identifying the emotion that should be felt.  "Cue Angry."  And suddenly all of the trumpets take their cue and play angry emotion as loud as they can, no filter, no volume control, no further analysis of the situation.

I am too tired to type more.
I just want to say that if I am going to lose my mind, as I seem to be doing, it would be so much nicer if I could be oblivious to losing it.  Being acutely aware of my descent into insanity is freaking - excruciating.

Thursday, June 19, 2014

And sometimes

And sometimes you realize there is not a soul in the world you can talk to.

Wednesday, June 18, 2014

To say I've been stuck between a rock and a hard place for the last few months would be an understatement.  I've already blogged about some of this earlier, and I really don't need to be repetitive, but I'm in a rut.  Which seems to be getting deeper, and also lonelier.

When you have depression, there are those who encourage, which is wonderful and needed. Those who tell you to be and think more positive and positive change will follow. They are somewhat right, and should continue their reminders. But sometimes in their attempts to help they grow weary.  They don't understand that the feelings of despair and deep down brokenness can't often be switched off or on like a 100 watt light bulb, eradicating all sign of darkness. Depression is a puzzle, and also a winding stairway in an Escher-esque room that doesn't always make clear whether you are on an upward or a downward path.  Often a person with depression gets comfortable in their direction, steps are firm, life seems to work, all is calm. Sometimes they have been taking, by virtue of grace or chance, all the right steps, and can thank the stars and God that the sunlight is sure to shine a little longer.

Sometimes with sure or unsure steps a person with depression creeps slowly and cautiously, trying to enjoy the light they have, when suddenly either the stairway flips and they find themselves upside down and in the dark again due to unforeseen circumstances, combined with an inhibited ability to deal with upset on the fly.  And sometimes, they simply come to realize that gradually the dark has crept in little by little, step by step, unnoticed until it nearly envelops the world around. 

I have found myself in the blackness in each of these ways.  And have always managed to find my way back. The thing, though, that is hard to understand for someone on the outside, is that often getting back into daylight is a little more complicated than it might seem. Maybe complicated isn't the right word.  What I mean to say, is that it is a slower journey back to the light than it is for most. There is most certainly a way out. There always is. The sun is always there waiting patiently, but it is so much harder for people to wait.

To find the way out of the haze and darkness of depression, one must first find a reason.  Motivation is critical. And next come tentative steps in various directions testing the levels of light. Am I closer now? Further?  And once a clear path is found, there is the hike back up through the layers. This can be rather quick, or awfully slow depending on the complexity of the "issue." Often times there doesn't even seem to be a real issue or root cause, making it harder to ascend quickly.  But given time and support, a person who struggles with depression can find their way out of these dark pits that regularly loom, and live a relatively normal existence.

The hard part for me though, is when I find myself in a particularly dark and sticky pit, with an abnormally windy path out.  Friends begin to give up. To walk away from the negativity... and heck, I'd probably do the same.  I feel the silent label of negativity stamped accross my head and across everything I say and do.  I fight it, only to find it harder and harder to fight.  Suddenly I find that I am too much for any of my loved ones.  Too much for my friends to bear.  They may still wear the facade of friendship, but I learn one by one that they can't take my confidences anymore.  You begin to meet new people, your church, for example, and realize that your life is too messy to bring to them. And up go the walls.  Someone will breach them, because many church people are well intentioned, wanting to get to know the people they see there, and then fear sets in and you notice you have begun setting up an escape plan. And then you suddenly see that you have been here before. This is a pattern you are repeating once again... Too much.

I felt this way today. Too much. At the edge of several friendships that are more behind me than anything else. A husband who has his hands full just dealing with my moods and my inability to manage our house and kids.  A church full of people who I cannot let into the darkness, because I know I will never be able to escape it in their eyes once they see it.  I felt sad and beaten down. My kids were tired and bored and testy. Needing more but not knowing what they need... and I know that what they need is more of me, as I try not to pull away.

Then there was the tantrum. An hour and fifteen minutes of screaming.  I screamed back. I cried, I begged, I had some terrible parenting moments in that hour and a half.  Something about not being able to console my child cuts me as deep as any other wound could. And then I make it worse by screaming back.  I'm tempted to say "it was only once," but once is too much. There is no "only."  The fit calmed and we went about our evening of Bible Camp uneventfully.  And then there were fits over bedtime.

This time I was calm and cool, and resolved. My voice didn't raise, my stance was steady, but I still felt that something was broken. Had been ruined. A vase somewhere in that little heart was cracked or crushed.  But when I finally kept my promise to come back in her room if she calmed herself, I reached down to kiss her cheek and she said the most unexpected thing ever.  "I'll never give up on you mama."  And I sobbed. She kissed my cheek and wiped away my tears.

In that moment, I knew that she was right. She never would. And I found a glimmer of hope, that maybe just maybe I really can trust God to make up for my mistakes. And maybe I can find a way to be a better me.  Because I really don't want to let my sweet angel daughter down.  I want to give her something to believe it. Something other than a legacy of tears. Hers and mine both.

Tuesday, June 17, 2014

Batcave Crafting

A few years ago my dad build a two story indoor fort in our playroom which we call the "Batcave." It has a ladder, a ramp with climbing "stones," and a carpeted upper level. The kids have loved and used it literally every day of the last few years.  They still play there daily and make forts, houses, schools, ships, stages, etc out of it, but as they have (suddenly???) reached the ages of reading etc, I decided it was time to make at least the lower level into a sort of reading area - which of course requires some cushions!

We have a bazillion uncovered pillows stuffed in closets, so I dragged them out, had each kid choose one, and then drug my flannel and minky fabric stash out to let them sift through.  I worked with each kiddo to pick out their favorite combination of fabric and whipped all three up in a day!  Here are some pictures of the final products and my little showoffs making use of them... and pretending to sleep. :) Note that Maddox could not be persuaded to be a part of these pictures ;0).

Saturday, June 14, 2014

Bye Bye Facebook

As mentioned before, I recently dumped my mistress (mister???). Its name was Facebook.  And while I will still occasionally be online for this or that reason, I have decided to try to keep it out of my life as much as possible... which leaves my poor mama kindof high and dry when it comes to pictures of the kiddos.  Plus I need somewhere to post the funny things my kids say and do... which is why I'm here!!  This summer I have a variety of adventures and activities planned for us, and I hope to snap pics along the way, and at least once a week visit here to share the highlights and lowlights, leaving me a bit more hands-free to enjoy my family!

Our first adventure this last week was an attempt at Geocaching.  And while we did not in fact find a cache, I refuse to call it a complete failure.

We got out in the sun together
Saw beautiful horses

Got some good excercize
Talked about and touched moss on a tree

Took lots of pictures, learned about latitude and longitude
Found a playground

A big playground

And laughed and giggled!
  After which, the kiddos were beyond tired... my timing may have left a lot to be desired.  But we did it!  I awarded Maddox the Super-Trooper award for keeping up and walking the whole way without needing to be carried, and without complaining.  The other two both needed to be carried a bit, and did quite a lot of complaining lol.  There were definitely some kinks to work out, but I think we will definitely try it again sometime!

This post is already getting long, so I'll post more tomorrow if I can!

Tuesday, June 10, 2014

A New Adventure

Today I am saying goodbye to Facebook for awhile, and hello to my family! Hello to living in the present, and loving what it I have! Because I have SO MUCH to love and be thankful for.  It is the second day of summer, and I hope to fill each day with adventure, family time, and lots of love for my kiddos.  I hope to check back in here regularly and post pictures and updates of our adventures!!

Today we are beginning our exploration into the world of Geocaching.  This is something I have wanted to try for some time.  I finally showed the kids a fun video about it, and they are excited too!!
sara who just typed her own name is excited too! 

Friday, April 25, 2014

Moth wings and dust

To be but a moth on the wall
brushed aside as needed
a voice so small
you drown it out.
To be un-heeded.