Brunch

He climbs into her car and inhales her sweet body splash. The adrenaline rush from sneaking around makes them both shake as they embrace.

“We have to leave, we can’t stay here she’s shopping nearby. Let’s go.”

The driver takes off to the motel as he pulls together the cash he carefully squirreled away without his wife’s notice. They only have a few hours together and can’t waste a second, so the typical area traffic makes them both even edgier.

“Two hours please” she says as they grab the room key. The place is what you expect, a shitty roadside motel. The kind of place built for affairs and day hookers.

The room itself is gross but they don’t care. They have been talking, dreaming, writing about this moment for over a year and won’t let anything ruin it. It’s not about the room, their spouses, or anything else other than their own passion and desire.

The hours fly by as they entwine themselves with reckless abandon. Not a care in the world as they shower off the stench of their betrayal. He texts his wife as they leave and head to the diner for their cover story.

They cuddle up in a booth, play footsie, kiss, and chat. Relive the memory of their deepest darkest secret, the one they will take to the grave. He knows her husband won’t stand for this, even if caught he’ll deny this ever happened. He must protect her and this at all costs, even if it means he loses his wife, he cares not.

No one will ever know the details, even they will have different versions of the same stolen moments. However I like to think that the reality of the story, is far more scandalous than I could ever dream up.

The Wound

First time I anticipated the cut and saw the steel of the blade before it ever pierced the skin

The second time I was not so lucky,  it entered next to the first while that one was still barely stitched together

One puncture was now two gaping holes, and neither one given any time to heal like it needed

I was undeserving of medical care and left alone to lick my gashes, given salt from time to time to remind me

Years passed in the same cycle: pick till it bleeds, rub, pain, remember your mistake, punish yourself

Over and over again until the scar still shows the thick keloiding that comes with a repeated assault

A reminder so large now that there is no way to ignore it and no way to pretend you don’t know what caused it

The size and shape make it clear to all those who glimpse it what came before, and how I healed it

The horrors that brought that reminder, the actions of mine that brought on the attack and how I felt I deserved it

I remember every moment in exquisite agony every time I pick at it, I punish myself by making it bigger, adding to the layers of scar tissue

But no more, today I have finally been given the tool needed to lop off the entire scar

It will cut deep into my skin and free me from the prison of my own obsessive need to relive the trauma

This is the chance to finally let go of the raised ugly scar and behaviour that imprisons me

It will be a painful complicated surgery without anesthesia, going possibly down to the bone

Every possible bit of scar tissue will be removed, no chance taken this time with the proper doctor in tow

Surgery will leave a permanent mark but this scar will be different, stitched together with precision and given the proper aftercare

Allowed to heal the right way, in a calm relaxing environment and with an attentive nurse to watch over my progress

I’ll trade the old complicated oozing scar that plagued me, for a deep red line across my heart

You’ll still be able to see the scar, but now you’ll see the aftercare and love that proper healing brings to a wound of this nature

I’ll be able to display this badge of courage as a reminder of the unconditional love that fixed it, rather than the evil that caused it so long ago

Glass Shards

It was like a slow motion replay

I knew the bullet was coming

I could see it in the distance and yet I did not move

I felt the words on your lips before they passed through them

I knew the answer to the question before I even asked it

and yet still I am shattered

Still this glass heart broke into tiny shards

When you think it can’t be more broken

Just when you think the light is coming

That is when you realize that the light was not the end

but merely the eye of this terrible storm

Hang on tight my dear,

this is going to be a big one.

If I never get better

What if, it never gets better. What if this is all there is? Can I learn to accept that I might never feel better? I might never feel worthy or worth it, I might always feel like a burden. Though this happens less, it still happens. Dealing with my trauma and healing from it makes it wax and wane, but it’s always there.

It’s there in the smile that I missed, in the kind words I didn’t hear. The feeling has nothing to do with my actual worth, and more to do with my illness, but still it remains. As I heal it can get better, but the truth it it’s like any recovery: it’s forever. No matter how good a handle you think you have on it, the universe finds ways to throw you that curve ball.

So I ask myself again, can you live with yourself? Can I go on forever knowing that I will always have this feeling that I am not good enough. That I may never believe anyone will love me unconditionally? That because I don’t have the ability to trust myself, I won’t be able to trust others? What if this is who I am now?

It’s not, right? It’s not because even as I go back now and look at my writing the weak caterpillar, yes woman, blinded by success and money is no longer there. I’m in flux, I am changing, I am capable of change… and I have to see that. If I am ever to break free from this cocoon I must remember a few things:

  1. The only constant is that everything changes
  2. That recovery is forever but it gets easier with time
  3. The time it takes for you to grow is the time it takes, it cannot be rushed or forced
  4. Before you can feel unconditional love from another, you need to have it for yourself
  5. I am a flawed human and will make mistakes
  6. That in the cocoon only at the very beginning and the very end do you know what you are
  7. The in between is just messy goo, self digested and ready for rebuilding
  8. Until I can digest all that was, I will not be able to start putting it back together

Back to eating shit for a while I guess… but hope renewed. Even if I never feel better, I will at some point learn to love and forgive myself for issues that will come up. That I will learn from them and move on. And that even if my trauma wins, I have already done so much good work, and so much good for others, that I should be proud.

If I can learn to have half the compassion that I have for others, for myself, then I am going to make it. You will too.

 

 

Daddy Dearest

To my Dearest Father,

Where were you? I needed you.

Your absence in my life has caused me more paid than I can even begin to explain. I  know I have said over and over again I didn’t need you, but that was never true. I was trained from birth to be strong, to be independent, to not show weakness. I had to create a brick wall around myself and my feelings. I became so strong I was made of stone. No one came in, nothing mattered. I could cut anyone out at any time and never let anyone know I needed them. Why? Because I don’t know how to need someone, I don’t know how to trust. I needed my father to show me what love from a man looked like, and without that I became hollow inside.

I was abused by my uncle for as long as I can recall. I developed an eating disorder at 9, and lied my way through middle school. I allowed a boyfriend to beat me. I allowed myself to be assaulted by an older male boss in high school. I was groomed by a much older man from when I was 15. I was drugged in college and almost assaulted. I have abused others because I thought that was “love”, and let loved ones abuse me thinking I deserved it. I am broken from what happened to me and having no one to talk to. I never had a male figure in my life I could trust and so I never learned that men were trustworthy. I self sabotaged my marriage and every relationship I had because “all men will leave you in the end”.

I became very good at wearing a mask of independence and strength. I had to learn to turn off my emotions, otherwise I would have crumbled. I had very strong female role models, but none to show me what love and trust really look like. I missed the bond that every girl craves, and by the time a semi-solid male figure showed up I was already well trained to not NEED a man… so I didn’t let him in either. I don’t blame you for what happened to me, nor do I blame my family. It’s MY story, it’s part of who I am… but it’s not who I am anymore. I have been working really hard in the last two years since taking over my Grandmother’s care and I want you to know.

I want you to know that it did hurt me to not have you. It hurt every time I thought you would show up, and didn’t. It hurt me to watch you blame my mom, my aunts, and everyone else but yourself that we didn’t have a relationship. You need to know at the end of the day, that was on you. You could have made it happen, you were my father. You knew where I lived, you knew my grandmother loved you, and you knew my mom worked. You could have come come for me… I wish you did. I wish you were at my wedding, I wish I could have have that moment. I didn’t need you to give me away, but I needed to know a father’s love before entering into a lifelong commitment. It hurt my heart that you didn’t even send a card or a note. You didn’t even acknowledge the biggest moment in my life. I didn’t need you there, but I wanted you there. I never said that to anyone because I thought it would make me look weak, and I was never that on the outside.

But I am on the inside, I’m still that little girl who didn’t get to have her daddy in her life. Father daughter dances make me crumble. I cry and I can’t stop it. Every wedding I go to reminds me that I’m still without that love. I hate that this makes me look weak, and I don’t want people to know but I have to get it out or I won’t heal… and that’s what I’m trying to do. I’m growing now. Now that I am free from the chains that tie me to my abuse and my abusive thoughts I am becoming a woman… and I forgive myself and I forgive you. I know you did the best you could with what you had. That you were broken too and just child yourself then. I understand why, and while I wish it wasn’t true, it is.

I never showed you how grateful I was for the times you were there. For the car, for inviting me into your home, and giving me another extended family. I didn’t know how to react to it then, but I am thankful for it now. While neither of us can go back and fix the past, I need you to know that it hurt me. I need you to know what it did to me, and that I’m sorry I hurt you, and that I hope all can be forgiven, even if it will never be forgotten or fixed. I need to me able to move on with my life and I can’t without getting it out.

I don’t know if we’ll ever be close, I don’t know if my sisters will ever be friends of mine. It’s the situation and decisions you made in the beginning, but we both made in the end that brought us here. I hope you can take responsibility for your decisions, as I have for mine. I hope that knowing that frees you a little bit too. I love you dad, even if I’ll never really be able to show you the way you want to see it. And now I know you love me, even though you may never show me the way I want you to. You hurt me, but I can now see beauty in the darkness and pain. It made me who I am today, and while I’m still a work in progress I am proud of what I’ve done so far.

Love,

The Daughter (you left behind)

 

 

The late night call

He gets a text and says, I’ll be back in a bit, I have to make a call. Probably be back in about an hour…

Fine right? Nothing weird here… except Anxiety!

He’s down there talking to someone he doesn’t want me to know about, why can’t he tell me who it is? Why don’t you just ask? Because if he wanted me to know he would have told me who it was. Why doesn’t he want to tell me? Is it because it’s her? Because I’m fine with that, he knows that then why not tell me? Why go down stairs?

DAMN IT! I lose and while I am going to tough it out, and get through it my anxiety has written a beautiful short story about it.

It’s her, you’re telling her that you have to stop talking like this. Sneaking around is no good for either of you. That you guys are both married, and that you should love the one you’re with if you can’t be with the one you love. You talk of how it could be, how you guys love each other, and long for a different world. You talk dirty to each other and exchange pictures before clearing your histories and hopping into bed with your spouses.

Goodbye Letters

*Trigger Warning* I am safe, but these letters can invoke some sadness. Please be cautious if you are triggered by suicide.

To my Dearest Best Friend,

I moved away a long time ago, but this is the final time I message you. I will miss you, I hope that now your little family will keep you strong. My absence from your life will not be felt long, please love that little man more than anyone else in the world.

You were someone whom I could really trust, and I think the only person who never let me down. I will always remember the kindness and love you showed me. I treasure all that you did and am thankful I had someone in my life like you.

Sincerely,

Me

 

To my Mom,

I hope the money you put before all of us keeps you warm now that I am gone. You were not there for me like we needed, you let me fall, and treated me like a Parent rather than the child. I loved you so much, I thought we would be friends one day, but your actions during Grandma’s transition and passing showed me otherwise. I hope you wake up and realize before it’s too late for Ash and James… you need to step up and be a better mom.

Sincerely,

Angel Face

 

To my Siblings,

I’m sorry. I’m sorry I couldn’t save you, I’m sorry I was such a bad sister. I tried to be mom and sister for you guys but it never really worked out the way I wanted it to. I love you both, and you were one of the only reasons I hung on as long as I did. I hope that this gives mom and Mike the wake up they need to be there for you like they should be.

Remember, you are stronger than I am. You can and will make it… just hang onto each other.  Stay in each other’s corner. Help each other.

Sincerely,

Me

 

To my Spouse,

I release you from your ties to my awfulness. You have stayed with me through the worst and while I wish I could say it was enough to make me stay. In the end it was this that made me walk away. I truly feel like nothing more than a burden to you. That you are staying with me out of pity, or just out of boredom. I feel like your heart has been elsewhere since Mike’s passing and I am too far gone to reach it.

Either all these things were true, or I am really that crazy… and we know the answer to that. So I’m doing you this favor. You’re sadness will be short and will bring a creative wave that will launch that career you want. Your friends will gather and help you through this time, and your true love will finally arrive.

I Loved you with everything I had, till the last breath of my body. I wish I was stronger, I wish I was the one, I wish that this pain was fixable… but none of that is true. I am too broken to be Loved the way I Love you. Thank you for everything.

Sincerely,

Chrysalis