Life Through The Eyes of Stacy

2017-05-28T14:10:00.001-07:00

If I have ever loved you be it as a friend, family or other-
I will always care for you.
I just can't turn that off.
Call me foolish or naive...
Laugh at the poor girl that can't let go of people.
But there is no place in my heart where hate shades love.
You may have broken my heart or moved on
(and I have moved on too, don't get me wrong)
but my heart is big enough for all this love.
Believe me, you are in my heart and my thoughts
until my heart and brain no longer exists.

Reaching out is the most difficult part

2016-08-01T03:52:00.001-07:00

Apparently in spite of all the good things in my life I am currently caught, again, in the tight grip of depression. While I've experienced it most of my life, I can't always recognize that is has me until I'm well imprisoned by it's firm hold. One minute I'm laughing and enjoying the little things in life, the next I'm struggling with ugly, broken thoughts. And like pieces of glass in my head, the thoughts cut into the flesh and leave me bleeding only darkness.

When I am in a depressive state I am not sad all the time. There isn't some large black cloud that follows me everywhere. If we are to compare it to weather, which I usually do not, I honestly feel soothed by the darkness because the sunshine is too much a reminder of what I should or could be. Depression for me is eating to try to fill the empty spaces inside. It's denying the sunshine by closing all the blinds. It's sitting at the dining room table with Jesse's family and my own daughter and feeling so disconnected that I could be thousands of miles away for all that I can contribute. It's thoughts that spring wings in my head but die before they make it past my language center. It's coffee with no taste and hugs with no arms. Then there is that other offender to my well-being...Anxiety.

If depression is my wanting to always be asleep, anxiety is a gnat buzzing in my head flashing (sometimes false) PTSD-like memories of falling down a flight of stairs,imagining my accidentally cutting my finger off while simply going over the prep in my mind of a menu for the next day's dinner, wondering why this person hasn't spoken to me in awhile and going over our last conversation to remember if I said something wrong, writing and rewriting a paper for school several times then checking my grades online like a stalker, worrying that people don't like me... Stopping all those intrusive thoughts by forcing myself to think of something, anything, else but then having the same thoughts come back again. It's every fear, everyday in between the pauses of depression.

And it's f*cking exhausting! Depression is trying to lull me to sleep with it's dark and warm silence while anxiety is bouncing from one foot to the other reminding me in high pitched shrieks of everything terrible that could happen if I take a chance. In depression I could stay calm and indifferent to what my mind is telling me the world feels about me. Yet in anxiety I'm constantly being roused by fear of what other people think or will say about me. It reminds me that I could fail all my college courses, that I won't have any friends if I stay being this broken me. It's fight or flight all the damn time. At times anxiety works hand in hand with depression to warn me to abandon my words....Like it is doing at this very moment as I write this because depression says "it doesn't matter. No one cares." and anxiety warns "Don't worry people. You'll regret speaking out tomorrow."

The dialogue between my anxiety and depression goes on incessantly. I try to block out their voices by forcing myself to be positive, by getting out of the house, keeping up with my college work, enjoying my daughter's return to California. Often I watch silly videos on the internet to quiet down all the noise, listen to music, watch television. Facebook used to be a good distraction when I was feeling low. It's the one place that I can catch up with old friends, find inspiration in posts and play mindless games. Lately though it has gotten to be too much. Posts by friends of exciting things going on in their life make me feel happiness for them...but it also makes me feel all the anguish of where I am stuck in my life. More disturbing though is that my newsfeed is overwhelmed by posts about tragedies in the world and the hate born from people fearing other countries, ethnic backgrounds, religions,etc. (Have you ever noticed that the most hateful of people are the loudest???) Politics too. Instead of people posting the positives about the candidate they support, some people are constantly putting down the other party. As someone with high I anxiety I try not to let fear drive me to hate anyone but alas too many people do and the stress continues. The differences in opinions isn't what bothers me at all. It's the bashing of one another person's opinion and candidate, the fear mongering and the hate. It's everywhere and it's like scribbles of a big thick crayon all over any shades of hope I can find.

I've thought of taking a break from the internet. After all, "unfollowing" people who spew hateful remarks can only get me so far. While social media can be great for reconnecting, staying in touch and posting to our friends, I've realized now that I've used it in the absence of real life connections. Go out and make friends, right? That is easier said than done. I've been here in a "new" state and town for over three years and except for Jesse's family I know no one. And I can tell you honestly that while a few of them and I have become friends, I am no closer to many of them now than I was when I met them. It's possible that it's just my own jaded perception of myself. Or maybe it's the loss of their Mom and my being here "instead". It's most likely just me. It's difficult to try to make people "like" or be comfortable with you when you're not comfortable or liking yourself. So that is why I don't step back completely from Fb. I would totally be isolating myself. My depression would love that.

I realize also that my depression isn't due simply to negativity from the "outside" world. Although it certainly piles onto my already struggling psyche, there is already enough self-doubt, fear and lack of self-esteem on good days. But when I'm depressed it's like I'm a walking, talking shape of a person with no real "person" inside. I start to feel the silence from friends as proof that I am worthless. Family forgetting my birthday or something I've told them shows me that I am simply not important. If I ask for attention to an issue I'm feeling I feel the weight of being a burden. I don't know how to express myself while depression smothers me in it's arms. A fog settles in around my brain making it difficult for me to understand the difference between people being busy and people writing me off. It's a war inside my head.

So go to a doctor, find a therapist, I tell myself when some of the darkness melts away. By the time my doctor is open for office hours I'm back under that darkness and it's telling me that no one can help me anyway. "You've been here before. All the therapy and medication didn't help any of the other 30 times..." Medications have only proved to cloud my thinking and, at times, made me suicidal. I'm not going back to "that" place.

Still somewhere amist all that darkness and negativity is a small voice that I can hear when this indifference or hyper-stress isn't blocking my ears. It wants to fight. I want to fight. I don't want to be hugged to death by depression anymore.

I don't want pity. I don't want to be treated differently than anyone else. I want to stop hearing all this noise. I want to stop listening to my depression telling me that no one cares and instead reach out for help before I fall completely under the strangling hold of this nothingness that has taken my brain hostage. I am reaching out now for a hand. It hurts me to ask for help...Still I don't think it's any different than if I was stuck under a car and crying out to be saved. I am stuck under a kind of vehicle really. It is my own brain...My illness.

So if anyone can hear me, I'm reaching out...A "hello", a real conversation, a reminder that I have more to contribute to this world than what my depression and anxiety are telling me. After all, we all need one another, don't we? I think that now more than ever we all need to love one another just a little bit more.

A New Chapter

2016-01-09T14:00:00.001-08:00

I start college on Monday. So excited, like a giddy school girl. I just hope my patience for myself and the 4 subjects I'm studying matches this excitement.

Must listen

2015-10-11T11:17:00.001-07:00

This group is amazing... More people need to listen to Aquilo including the songs "Human" and "You There". <3

"I gave it all" https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=xEbALC15Q1Y
"You There" https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=LlefHgF0kPA
"Human" https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=50fBVpjz8qI

Memories Of You

2015-10-09T13:19:00.000-07:00

One thought of you passes through my mind,
then another~
Before I know it I'm being dragged in from the sun
and swallowed by the darkness of missing you.
Your smile, your voice...
They lure me to stay,
to remember what once was
but now is a gaping abyss inside.
When I search in the ever lapping tides
of my yesterday
hoping to pull out just one memory I can comfort myself with
my hands come up empty.
Were you ever real?
Or just a ghost of what I needed?
Doesn't matter now~
I can't even pretend I ever mattered to you.
One thought, two
and I am taken over again,
enveloped and battered in the questions you never answered.
I pray for memory loss
to keep this heart from forever breaking.

~Stacy J French

"I'm Moving On"

2015-10-03T15:13:00.000-07:00

This song, these lyrics, fit my life...

Rascal Flatts "I'm Moving On"

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=eKIGOHhiDuY

Releasing The Poison

2015-09-28T06:55:00.000-07:00

I tend to keep things to myself when it comes to my anger or annoyance with others. It takes a lot for me to get angry but once I'm there it's like a destination instead of a stop. I figure I've held onto too many things in the past few years and need to vent before I explode. So here goes....

To the very sweet, well-meaning friends (me included) who often think they know better than others and who like to preach. Please, let's stop telling everyone what we "know" is best for them. There is a difference between voicing our concern and being an asshat. Giving advice? Great. But leave out the judgemental jabs as well as any phrases that contain the words 'just get over it', 'I told you so' or 'what's the big deal?' As if we each are the expert on everything? We all go through different things in our lives and we are all just learning as we go. At 4, 40 or 90 years old, we can all learn new lessons and improve ourselves. I know we, as humans, are judgemental, but it doesn't help people to fix issues when others stand over us in judgment as if we are all an all-knowing God. Growing up I thought anyone over 25 was old and I thought going to work and college was the toughest thing I'd probably endure all my life. Nope. There is always older and there's way more stress, hard work and bad experiences to come. There are also many wonderful things awaiting us. Wait for it. In the meantime, let's give one another a break and keep our unwanted perceptions in our own heads. People are going to change and do what they need to when they are ready. It's not that you can't offer advice to others. It's a great thing when you care enough to want to help someone skip over a broken step. Still, to be honest, until we learn that we don't know everything yet (and never will), we cannot possibly fathom everything that everyone is going through. Even if we've experienced similar things, it doesn't mean that we each take them in the same way others may. People know loss I've never experienced...Other people can teach me things I'll never know. Still, preaching is not getting anyone anywhere. I appreciate that we want to "help" others to do this and that, but it's not our choice nor will it be us that has to take the steps to make things happen for others. Like with me, I acknowledge that I have been stuck in a depressed and anxiety-ridden place. I am well aware that it has controlled my happiness. If you don't realize I already kick myself for being paralyzed by things that wouldn't have fazed me before, you would be wrong. I'm determined and I will get there. When I do I'm sure that I'll still mess stuff up. Being human has everything to do with making mistakes and learning from them.

Religion and politics are personal choices. We have the right to express our own opinions but not the right to shove them in other people's throats.

Now on a more personal note~
To the Ex who thinks I still have feelings for him: Yes, I do have strong feelings~ They are called regret and total disenchantment. Whatever it is that I saw in you so many years ago has become a mystery to me. I'm not saying that to be mean but to be honest. How many times did I try to tell you that I was not interested in anything more than friendship once we talked again many years after the end of our relationship? All of the attraction to you I felt for those years before went away when the truth shone through the clouds. I saw your lying, cheating and selfish ways like someone suddenly turned a light onto you. I don't regret knowing you. At least I learned many lessons about life and love from my experience with you. But then again, your constant disappearing from my life and coming back really makes it super difficult for me to trust people. I suppose that's why I push people away like I do...or part of the reason anyway.

To the man who raped me when I was 17. You're mad that I published what you did to me on my blog some time ago? You're angry that I used your first name? Well, I guess you shouldn't have gotten me drunk and raped me then. You can't chase me down the street threatening to kill my family and me anymore, can you? I grew up and found my voice. My only regret (other than meeting you) is that I didn't find my words those many years ago. If I had I could have protected others too. I pray to God that you never did that to anyone else though sadly I doubt that.

To the man who molested me: I imagine you are deceased now and that you are in hell. Maybe you confessed your sins and were forgiven. I just want to say that I forgive you now. You have had too much control over me for decades. I'm certainly not going to allow a hate for you to influence me anymore. I'm taking away your power even if it's only one step at a time. You still sneak into my happy thoughts and you make everything that is pure and clean in the world, dirty and broken to me. Whatever was wrong with you I will never know. You have to be "like" you to get why an older man is attracted to a 7-year-old. The fact that I don't understand is a huge relief... I just think of you and others like you, as evil. It's all I've got to keep me from going back to that awful and confused place that lived in my head since I was a little girl. What you did to me affected my self-esteem and made me doubt that good men existed. For too long I have blamed myself for what you did. I've been overly protective of my own kids and see bad in older men that may not even exist. Not to mention the fact that because of what you did to your granddaughter and me we stopped being friends. She's never spoken to me since. Maybe she has blocked it out or, worse, maybe she blames herself for bringing me to your house. It wasn't her fault. We were not supposed to feel shame for the sin you committed. Yet I wore the shame like a cloak. Like I expressed about the man who raped me, I am so very sorry to any other victims that you may have had after me. Because I didn't tell till many years later I feel like I "allowed" you to possibly molest others. Such a shame that victims are made to feel like they are the ones who did something wrong.

And to myself: Where to start? You are hard on yourself, naive at times and too trusting all at once. You fear the possibility of succeeding. Happiness scares you. You push people away. You hardly ever stand up for yourself but when you do follow your gut instinct, you become so doubtful of yourself that you apologize. You are so scared of not being liked and by being wrong, that you stay silent rather than say what is in your heart. You let what other people think of you affect your actions....and worse, you let your self-doubt taint your perceptions so you don't even know for sure what anyone thinks anyway because in truth those views from "others" are just the negative dialogue in your head. And who cares who doesn't agree? They are just opinions... You are seriously your own worse enemy.You have empathy for others for going through experiences that you won't allow yourself the same understanding for.

And finally, to the 'friends' I've lost because of my own personal struggle with depression and self-doubt. Too bad you were so quick to leave. I'm going to "get better" and when I do I will see who truly cared about me. You ran when things got tough. When I pushed you away you were all too eager to go. But I will no longer let anyone else's opinion or perception of me into my head. There is enough to deal with in there, thanks. Like the saying I've heard so many times (in so many words), take me and accept me at my worse or you don't deserve me at my best. I forgive you anyway. I'm just moving on. Take care of yourself and let people be their real selves, even if their true self is cracked at the time you came into their life. Otherwise, you will never find happiness because let's face it, we are all screwed up in our own way.

~ My Depression Medication Was Killing Me~

2015-08-16T17:19:00.000-07:00

Having depression most of my life I have tried many medications to aid in my treatment. While I'd rather not have to depend on a pill to help me get out of bed and feel even, without it I am not able to deal with day to day life. The medication I was on last, Prozac, was one I had tried many years ago before I had kids. It didn't help me then and now I realize, it was only worse this time around. It was killing me. So I went off of it. For now I am medication free and I have to admit, compared to how the Prozac made me feel, I am better without it. Not cured, not happy. Just no longer hopeless and suicidal.

Prozac works quickly. Within a week it can change your thinking. If its affects were as tame as they were the first month I may not have needed to stop it all together. Still, slowly and without warning I found myself sleeping all day and night in 2-hour increments. When I wasn't sleeping I was staring at the ceiling planning the end of my life and not caring about anything...to say the least. I couldn't make decisions about even the simplest things, like what to eat. More than that, I didn't care if I did eat. I couldn't commit to cleaning or to even sitting in one place because it was too much and I just wanted to close my eyes and shut it all away.. What I did do was hold firm to whatever I did think I needed- like people and things that were bad for me- because it/they were feeding into my way of self-harm. If my heart was breaking I felt like I was receiving what I deserved. My heart broke a lot. But then when people would push me away I'd return to the idea of ending my own breath.

Honestly, it was the medication itself that caused me to stop taking medication all together. About three weeks ago I ran out of them. As usual I called in the prescription but couldn't be bothered to go get it. Who cares anyway, I thought. Certainly not me. Slowly but surely over the next few weeks I came out of the coma of indifference, of self-hate, and into the dim light again. It is NOT EVER okay to just go off your medication without a doctor's okay, but I did. I do not suggest anyone else do this. It could have had very bad results. But it is what it is.

As I said, I am far from on an even plane. I am still depressed, still feeling like why bother with most things, but the difference is that I have good moments shine through like flickering rays of sunshine. I will make an appointment with my doctor where I will explain how and why I stopped his prescription and then I will need to try something else. If I could go without depression medications I would. I'd love to be happy just because the sun is shining, because I am loved and for all the little things in the world that do make me happy when I am not this way, I am aware I have a LOT to be thankful for. But sadly my depression is not a matter of making up my mind to be happy nor is it a lack of practice in faith or counting my blessings.... It's my brain doing all the opposite things that a "normal" (non-chemically depressed brain) does.

I know I'm getting "better" because I am writing this instead of laying in bed hoping for the world to end. One step at a time.

2015-08-14T23:01:00.006-07:00

My memories of you have worn soft and feathery

like the edges of a well-read novel.

I no longer see the colors or shapes

of the memories we made

but instead feel them firing off

the synapses of my mind

as if I was born with the thought of you

already implanted in my d.n.a.

© 2015 Stacy J. French~Roosa (All rights reserved)

I Miss You

2015-06-20T09:05:00.000-07:00

I miss you very, very much,

There is no poetry in that~

Only insufferable silence

hiccupped by a cracking heart.

Love by Jesse Jacobo

2015-06-09T19:22:00.000-07:00

LOVE

Love is such a little word
just four letters long
it represents so much for being so little
there is no limit to it's meaning
there is no limit to it's feeling
when you have it you can be so happy
and if you don't it can make you feel so sad
but when I see my baby the love I feel is so strong
because of that love is huge for me
She makes me smile just being around me
I feel her love every minute she is here
for me that little word Love
is a huge powerful word
because I have My Love with me
Love is a very Huge word for me

by Jesse Jacobo

~ Reflection Of Lies ~

2015-04-23T03:18:00.001-07:00

I thought you were the Moon,
I placed you up among the stars.
I thought if I was good enough
I could feel your glow from Mars.
But you were not what you pretended-
You were merely a reflection in the night.
What I found from you was nothing
but a fleeting flash of light.
I would have followed you through the darkness,
I could have danced with you under the trees.
I would have given you everything
that was shining from within me.
Yet your light dimmed and wavered
in the splinters of your caress-
You left me cold and fractured
in the expanse of total darkness.

~Stacy J. French (Roosa)

I'm Trying To Be Brave...

2015-04-15T23:42:00.001-07:00

I am writing with fear pulsating in my throat and shaking in my fingers. I have been so frightened of my thoughts that I spend most of the day in bed wrapped up in a cocoon of blankets with any mindless show I can find blaring on the t.v. so I don't have to hear my own thoughts. At this very moment I am one word away from going to that place now. Still, I am trying to push through this.

I can't see a tomorrow where I will be free from this feeling of doom inside my head. I don't see any relief from this pain sitting on my heart. Although I know I will have moments of laughter, I doubt I will have any true duration of just being "even". What I wouldn't do to simply be a woman whose mood is affected by life instead of a shell of myself whose life is affected by my mood and depression. I struggle often with the idea that my existence causes more problems than taking my life would. I'm not sure that the pain of my absence is any worse than what I do to people while breathing. Even this damned medication is not helping... All it does it cause a fog so dense that I cannot even see through it to veer out of the way of oncoming problems. Worse, I am noticing I don't care when I can make them out on the horizon. I feel like "why bother?".

What I had a year ago is gone now...What I had 5 years before that is a distant memory. Yes, I do have good things in my life, a few good people, but I am too sad and detached to realize them. Sadly I am living without my kids, in a new world, without the surroundings and people I grew up with. My life is absent of even the little things that I collected and brought along with me in my 40 years. Funny how something as stupid as furniture or a well loved,worn book can give one a feeling of safety and comfort. All my memories of friendships, of my Mother, are locked in my head...I cannot even see them in pictures. And in my head memories are tainted by pain. My childhood home, neighborhood, my Mom's resting place~ I don't have any of that to calm my nerves. And that would be okay, manageable even, if my kids were near me. Just by existing so far away from them and not being able to be a part of their daily lives is causing me great heartache. So many people have gone in the past 5 years, so many things have changed, including myself, and I feel like I am barely holding on by my toes to the edge of this life.

I pull people in. I show them my heart and then when they can't immediately take it in and make sense of the mess that I am, I become embarrassed and ashamed and push them away. I seek validation~ Something I have always done but now seems to be a part of my very outlook on life in these difficult times. I doubt my connection to people, fear that I've been played and I suddenly push people away before they can possibly push me first. I fear being alone, abandoned, and yet sometimes I think I am more scared of being around the ones I love because I don't want to be a burden to them. When you suffer with depression you have a voice that is louder and pushier than your own. It's hard to ignore and is full of self doubt and warns you constantly not trust anyone. It eats at your self esteem while offering a warm, safe place to settle down when the world gets too confusing. But it tells only lies, offers only warmth as long as you feed it more of your pain and it plays on your every fear. It pulls you away from anything that might mean feeling hope again (The scariest of emotions to me because the loss of it means great despair and having to pick up splintered pieces of yourself that were already broken).

I feel like I am simply a waste of space, taking on air I don't deserve. I force a smile, post something positive online and tell people I'm good but inside I am anything but. Out of stress I mindlessly grind my poor teeth all day and night until my head bangs and my teeth and jaw ache. Often I don't eat because I can't be bothered~ until my blood sugar drops so low that I have to force myself to eat even crackers or a something with sugar. When I do eat its because Jesse has made food and sat me down to eat it. But the food doesn't appeal to me. Then after eating I am sick to my stomach.

I cannot make decisions. Where do I want to eat? What should I wear? Should we go to the store? To me making these simple decisions is as difficult as real life altering decisions.

I hate to sleep because I dream of all the things that I fear and worry about when I'm awake...Bills, relationships, my kids' health.... I must dream about every little and big worry I have all in the course of the 2-3 hour span of sleep I do get. But then when I am awake I cannot stand to be in social situations. I find the emotional pain gnawing at my heart and I find myself back in bed praying for sleep and silence from my pain...a nightmare comparable to some horror movie would be more welcome than the reality I dream of.

I have only a few friends that I communicate with regularly. I've lost several to this depression and many more to moving across the country. The ones I do have I feel like I am one bad day from throwing away. I feel like I need to pretend to be okay so that I don't scare anyone. Often I want to delete my facebook, my e-mail and everything else that gives me the ability to reach out and burden others. I feel I'd be doing the world a favor by being silent. It's all I can do at this very moment not to close this stupid blog and leave these words unsaid.

But I'm not going to...I am trying so hard to push through this. I am fighting to find a place for myself in this world without feeling like a burden to my loved ones. More out of fear of the pain and questions my death would leave behind, but also because there is a very tiny part of me that is curious about what is in my future. But I know what I have to do to find it....and it's not going to be found in the dark under the covers with the sun blocked out of the house. I need to fix myself. But the next step is the hardest. It's time to go back to the doctor to change my medication, maybe even seek inpatient treatment. I can't do this alone. Not anymore.

Pinpoint Of Light

2015-03-22T13:57:00.000-07:00

I am letting go
and you won't even notice...
I am but a flicker of light
among a blaze of fire
so my death won't be felt by you.
And only when the rest of the flames
smolder to embers
will you'll realize
how strong I burned for you.

- Not A Word -

2015-01-20T02:16:00.000-08:00

Your silence pains me.
It catches a sigh so deep in my chest
that it hurts to move and to breathe.

Your silence has a way of gobbling up
all of the sweet words you've spoken
until the teeth of doubt chews away at reason.

Your silence haunts me.
Like the one lone shadow in an open,
sun-drenched field
where no objects stand to cause a block of the sun,
your quiet eclipses the sunshine.

Your silence shames me.
I go over every word we have said to eachother.
I pick apart sentences until the words are unlatched
and mixed up.
Then I rearrange them in my head until their meaning is muddy
and I feel a conflict within me.

Your silence breaks me.
I'd rather you voice the truth-
whatever that is-
to clear up all this anxiety storming within.
I continue to feel that I am not worthy of your time...
Even a mere second.

The sharp edges of the words "too busy"
and "not important enough"
cut into the flesh of my brain,
leaking the poison of uncertainty into my heart.

I'd rather hear you talk, sigh, scream-
Whatever it is you feel or don't feel,
than be alone in this haze of this confusion.

Prescription For Numbness

2015-01-17T23:24:00.000-08:00

I have nothing to offer this paper.
Like the pale face of the moon it gleams & invites new adventures
yet I am at a loss for words.

I am at a loss for emotions too.
There is a block, a shadow over this poet.
It feels as big as a skyscraper
but it's as small as the tip of this pen
....which lays here as dry as my eyes.

Every blank space haunts me....
I want to write on the walls,
in the blue stretch of the sky
and on the floors
but the words won't come.
It's as if they are stuck somewhere between my brain
and my hand..

One little pill...A prescription for my depression.
It's all that stands between me and releasing all of these emotions~
From feeling this mess inside of me,
and spreading it onto the paper....
One little capsule filled with a medicine that dulls my sadness
but also my elation, my fear, my hope and my voice.

One little pill that saves my life daily
but kills my spirit.

~ I Choose Pain Over Pills ~

2014-12-24T04:15:00.000-08:00

A year ago today I chose to take my last prescribed pain medication and become clean. It was a Christmas present to myself and one of the most difficult things I've ever done. After 6 plus years of being on pain management for a bad back and taking everything from Vicodin to Percocet and finally Methadone, I was no longer getting relief from the narcotics. I found myself taking them just to feel normal....So as not to go through withdrawal. For the many years I was on the various drugs I lied to myself. I talked myself into believing that they were helping my back and that the euphoric feeling was just a side affect that I could take or leave. Biggest lie of my life.

It is only after a few weeks that a person who takes any of these medications can become physically addicted to them. Mentally it can happen with the first "high". I felt like I could accomplish anything when I was in the arms of that buzz. I was super happy, organized, social and felt positive about the future. Yet the fall was just as steep and I would become easily angered, moody, negative in thoughts and looking to simply feel that euphoria again. I found myself withdrawing from the world as I became addicted. Too many questions from others about what I take and how much. Why was I wide awake at night and sleeping all day... How was I so up one minute then cranky the next? Paranoia ensued. I thought everyone was out to get me. It emotionally screwed me up and I truly believe that mixing these pain medications with my depression led to me becoming a hermit. I no longer wanted to leave my home. For months I didn't except to go to my pain management doctor and to the pharmacy. It was a slippery slope and I wasn't even trying to fight gravity.

Sure, I can put some of the blame on the doctor who so willy~ nilly put me on the medications but the fault lays in my own judgment. I found out when I went to a new doctor that the 90 Mg's of Methadone that my original doctor was prescribing me was never to be taken by someone all at once and in one day unless a doctor very carefully and slowly increased 5 Mg's at a time~ 90 mg being the cut off a day. I was told such a high dose taken so quickly could give me heart issues~Even a heart attack. No wonder I was a zombie. My doctor started me at the top amount and seemed to have no intent to wean me. I was too wrapped up in the arms of that damn drug to see what it was doing to me...

That is until I almost crashed my car falling asleep at the wheel while driving my kids to school. As I looked back at their scared faces and held back tears I realized that I was an addict...No, not an addict who went on the street exchanging money for drugs or, worse, other things, but an addict all the same. That was when I told my doctor that I wanted off the medication. The only way to do that was to wean me. It was a joke really as he only took one or two pills away from the entire script a month...I trusted him. I thought that he knew what was best for me. I also was in no rush as I knew from going off of Vicodin very quickly that a sudden stop would cause such horrible withdrawal symptoms that I would want to die.

For months he "weaned" me very slowly but when we moved to California I was still taking 40 Milligram's. When we got here I searched for a pain clinic. Imagine the look on this new doctors face when I told him that I had been on pain management for 6 years and wanted him to prescribe this Methadone only to be weaned. Many doctors don't give Methadone for pain management. He made phone calls, found out that indeed I had been on it and was on a slow wean. He tested my blood for other drugs and had me sign a contract promising I would take the medication as prescribed. He then knocked me down to 20 Mg's. Over the next few weeks I was weaned down 5 Mg's every 3-4 days until on December 24th I took my very last pill. I thought it would be easier than any other time I ran out of medication because I had stepped down off of them. Wrong. It was 3 months of flu like symptoms, constantly sneezing (like 30 plus times a day), stomach pain, muscle aches, depression...Just wanting to curl up and die.

It was as I became "clean" and stayed that way that I realized the price I paid (and was continuing to pay) for taking this medication. My kids, always amazing and loving, were surprised to see me more alert and awake during the day. I cannot tell you the guilt I felt whenever they would ask me if I was going to take a nap because "if you want to we understand. We can make dinner and do our homework on our own." It was awful to hear that. I had never even let them use the toaster or microwave alone in my normal state. Had it gotten that bad? Had I put down my responsibilities as a Mother as I picked up each pill? No, I would tell them...Mommy doesn't need a nap. (Mommy needs to make up for being a crappy Mommy).

Letting my kids down was the worst of it. Less important, but very real, was the toll the pain medications took on me. I know now that Methadone eats your bones from the inside out. I also realize that in that 6 years I never really slept. I was always on the edge of falling into a deep sleep but never able to let go. Now that I've been off of them I am lucky to get 2-3 hours of sleep at a time. Then there is the mirror.... Never thrilled or happy with the way I looked, now I can't even pass a mirror without wanting to break it. Dark circles under my eyes, loss of muscle, my skin so dry....Like I said, it is the least of the damage I've done but it certainly doesn't help me to forgive myself and move on.

Please know that I am not judging anyone else who is in pain management. If you are truly taking pain medications carefully and with the monitoring of a responsible doctor, pain management can work. All I know is that for many people your pain tolerance gets lower after awhile of taking any narcotic. Soon you are taking more and more of the medication until there is no amount that works. I find that now that I don't take pain medication at all that I've learned other ways to deal with my back pain. It's not ever a "Quick fix" but unlike the pills it is safer. There are people that will be on long term pain management who take the medications only for the pain relief benefits. I've even met a few people who hate the side affects of the medications. I wish I had been one of those people. The narcotics never made me feel sick...

So, its a year and I am pain medication free. I still struggle of course. My body isn't the same anymore...I am taking medications for my depression but I've had that issue all my life. Unlike the narcotics, the depression medications don't make me feel instantly euphoric....They just even me out. Well, sometimes they numb me but that's another topic. I have come to terms with the fact that I will have to take these medications for the rest of my life. Still, I never plan on taking pain pills for long term pain management ever again. I am still struggling after a year to get back to who I was 6 or so years ago, before the medications stole my feeling of self worth as well as any desire to be sociable and worse, the respect of my family and friends. I am certainly not going back to that hole again. Life is difficult enough without adding to it such a controlling substance.

The MisAdventures Of Bailey Bear

2014-12-15T10:24:00.001-08:00

When my son Bailey was 4 (he's 17 now) he loved to get into everything...And when I say everything I mean just that. I would come downstairs from getting his sister out of her crib or simply turn my back for a minute and I would find all kinds of disasters instigated by Bailey Bear. One time he decided that the fish needed to be fed so he added coffee grounds, ketchup and God only knows what else to their tank. Another time he decorated the carpet, walls and stairs with chocolate syrup... And yet another time while we were all tucked in bed asleep he hunted down the key to the deadbolt and let himself out of the house and up the street to a little girls house. (The deadbolt was put in just for this reason...and so were the motion detectors that we installed right after this incident. ) It was 2 in the morning when he went two houses up, in the dark of night, in his footie pajamas, to woo a girl 2 years his senior. Boy, those police men must have been ready to give me the mother of the year award.

I certainly could write a book about Bailey and his adventures starting when he began pulling himself up and walking around the house at 6 months old. He was on a mission to seek and destroy. Don't get me wrong though. He was not a bad kid...He was a good kid with bad ideas, fueled by a curiosity that no one could control. Those were fun times....I aged about 20 years in the course of his toddler days.

This is the ant, Flik, from the 1998 movie, "A Bug's Life". Bailey had a 2 foot plastic toy of this little guy. When you moved his hand he would say lines from the movie... One of his sayings was "Hey! Hey!" That quickly became what Bailey called this little fella. It made him very curious about ants.... Here is a silly poem I wrote back then inspired by very true (and icky) events.

Bailey Bear's Adventures

The ant never knew

when it chittered through the dew

and in the side of the house

found a crack

that it should surely turn back.

The ant never saw,

as on crumbs it began to gnaw,

a little boy hovered

and with two hands covered...

Big blue eyes stared,

the ant was scared

as a set of lips neared.

'I got an ant! He's my pet!'

The words came screaming

as the ants body laid reaming

under the pinch of his fingers

The pain still lingers--

In a matchbox car he's put-

door shut on his foot,

driving what is 200 miles an hour

to a poor little ant.

On to a bowl of milk where the ant sinks

and tries desperately to climb

but Bailey drinks!

All the way down the tunnels

the ants body pummels

and he wonders all the way-

Why at home didn't I stay?

May 2001

As I've said, I could write a book about this kid...His sister Tessa, (two years younger than Bailey and 15 now) would certainly be a leading character too as she tried to keep up with her brother as his side kick. After I wrote this poem Bailey actually helped me made a booklet of it with his own drawings of "hey hey"... That activity kept him busy for a few minutes before he went onto discover the fun of riding a sled down a flight of stairs....He also had many questions about what became of that ant that he ate. There's nothing like teaching a 4 year old about the digestive system when referring to an Ant's life. I am not sure how any of us got through those crazy toddler years. Now he's learning to drive.......I have no words. I pray a lot.

~ How Do I Stop Being Me? ~

2014-12-07T16:43:00.000-08:00

I am the kind of girl who has always given 2nd and 3rd chances to people...Even after I've recognized that a person is not good for me, I let them back in when they apologize. That goes for friends, significant others and family.

I get hurt a lot. Actually, that is an understatement...I become devastated. The feeling of renewed rejection after all the strength it took me to forgive the person takes yet another piece of me with them as they go. I expect that people will have the same heart as me and very often I learn that they don't. I find out that they only wanted me back in their life for their own benefit and once I am no longer needed they are gone again. The reasoning with myself that I did in order to let that person back in turns into self hatred and shame. I swear off all people and love. I want to hide in my cocoon of safety.

Sadly (usually) those very people have gone onto hurt me all over again. Their words were barely out of their mouth and hanging in the air at the same time that their actions burst them like bubbles. All that remains is my broken heart. I get so tired of being hurt.

Often I sit here wondering what it is that makes me this way...Why do I allow myself to feel such hope and forgiveness for others? I don't even give myself a small amount of the empathy I feel for others. I cannot imagine that people would hurt others on purpose. Is it that I am strong and loving enough to forgive others? Or is it that I am too weak to hold my own and stand up for myself?

I am ready to change for the better...I recognize that I need a lot of work. Yet I don't know where to start....For how can I decide to stop being me?? In all the work to put back together my fractured heart again and again I think one thing is true...Weak or strong, foolish or loving, I'd rather be like me than to ever be like them.

~ The Silencing Of An Abused Voice ~

2014-11-17T05:56:00.001-08:00

When you go through life feeling almost everything that happens around you, it can be very difficult to separate your heart from your mind and what you feel from what you know. Most thoughts are rooted in emotions when you feel so much. Your perception of the world and how it views you is influenced by your own self-worth.

Perhaps over feeling everything has to do with being abused~ At least for me. Sexually, mentally and physically~ All forms of abuse can eat away at the core of self worth and become so overwhelming that in time it's all one can do to not pick everything apart-even compliments-for some hidden insult. It's exhausting, to say the least, and it can put a lot of distance between yourself and others. As if you aren't lonely enough in that dark and cold place, you become a victim of your own thoughts, doubts and worries. You feel shame for the abuse because in your heart, you wonder what you did to deserve it, to cause it. Your brain tells you that these thoughts are ridiculous but you've learned shame at the hands of your abuser.

On that note, I am not sure that it's the actual abuse itself that causes these feelings of inadequacy, or if it is also the secrets that follow. An abuser continues to abuse by making threats toward your family, your friends and often your very life~Whatever is important to the victim is used against him/her and it's all fair game to an abuser. Still, that is just the beginning of the war inside. If you keep the secret hidden, it eats you from the inside out. You feel a shame that can be so devastating that your future relationships are all built on sand, where your self doubt is the ebbing tides that pull the earth out from beneath your feet. No one else can "fix" you or hold together a relationship with you if you are not fighting against the power of the tides.

If you feel safe enough and compelled to let someone, anyone, in on your secret as I did many years later, the reactions of those around you can further hurt you and rot away your strength. I told my Mother, who with all good intentions, warned me to keep it a secret because she worried that my father might find out and take things into his own hands and hurt or kill my abuser.

Imagine, you've been feeling the weight and deep pain of this secret for so many years alone but when you finally allow this very scary secret to be voiced, you are silenced all over again. You hoped to finally feel some relief from the strangle hold its had on your body and heart but instead you are told to push it down deeper.

In my Mother's defense, she did not ask me to stay silent with any bad intent. She truly wanted to protect me....She felt great pain for what I had endured. Still, she also wanted to shield her husband from reacting in his own way which, she reasoned, might have caused him to do something bad to my abuser. A year or so before my Mom died she begged me for my forgiveness, because in the aftermath she realized that helping keep the dirty secret was worse for me.

I didn't know in any one moment back then that Mom's reaction would further stunt my own healing process. I only realized it later when the secret was bigger than the abuse in many ways..

All that abuse, the silence and suffering that followed caused the demise of my self esteem. I don't know how to take a compliment, or worse, criticism. Ironically, I often take things very personally that, in fact, have nothing at all to do with me. How can I both think that I deserve nothing from this world but also believe that if someone is upset that it has to do with me? I don't think that the world~or anyone in it~awaits my opinion or hopes to impress me and yet somehow I often worry that something I've done has great influence on someone elses day. I suppose that is because for me, other people and their opinion and reactions, truly do have power over my happiness and self esteem. I look for validation often~In my writing, on my personal appearance and even in my thoughts and words. My brain tells me to stop looking outside for others to give me a pat on the back but I still continue to do it... I don't know how not to.

I have to admit though, thankfully, that I do not feel all things as I used to. Somewhere back in my teen years, perhaps when I was cutting my skin daily and contemplating taking my own life, I somehow turned down the volume of all that painful chatter just enough to stay sane. If I had continued to feel the pangs of everything from our family pets to the world around me, I doubt I would be here writing this today. Imagine feeling pity and aching for almost everyone around you, even people you don't "like" very much. Imagine having a voice in your head that is like the conscience of every living being around you. It makes it difficult to be around others because you don't want to feel all that suffering all the time.

Whenever it was that the grip was loosened from my heart, I was still dealing with being overwrought with guilt, pain and shame. I cannot tell how others feel inside and whether their emotions are as quick to become derailed by what another person says or thinks, but I can only gather by the reactions of others to being treated similarly that I must take things harder...Or else I don't hide it as well, In my life I have come across people who are like me. Usually, they too have suffered abuse of one kind or another. I am immediately drawn to and put off by them at the same time. I want to be around people who know what it's like to be this way yet when I recognize my own characteristics in others I sometimes become overwhelmed and want to hide from the reminder of who I am.. I know how scary it can be in a tough world to be soft. I know the longing to be around other people with understanding hearts and I'm often saddened at finding people who have a hardened shell. People who don't suffer such painful pasts and who don't know the internal fight of self doubt will often tell you to "get over it", "move on" or any number of other well meaning things. Yet telling a survivor of abuse to forget the past is like asking us not to remember our name. The abuse has both weakened and strengthened us. It has the ability to make us fight harder and live deeper.

I both pity and admire tough skinned people. There I go again being a contradiction...I can't even figure out which direction my heart goes on the subject of people different than me. Yet, I understand that it is part of me...I will always be one to see both sides...To admire and dislike how it must feel to be free of caring what other people think, yet feeling a bit brave to have this hope and trust in a world where I have known great ugliness.

If you meet someone like me and wonder how such a "train wreck" exists, don't be too judgmental. We all have pasts. Some of you can take all that pain and internalize it while others like me will put it out into the world as poetry, music or teaching others.. I am grateful for my voice when for so long I had none.

My Life by Jesse Jacobo

2014-11-13T17:02:00.000-08:00

My Life I wake up and my body aches my back, knee, neck and feet hurt. All the aches and pains can be difficult to bear This life I live can really suck with all the aches and pains I sometimes feel I want to be a turtle to slink into my shell and hide from the pain to let the world pass me by to not be in pain or hurt in any way I have to work even when I really don't want to so I have money to pay bills, put a roof over my head So I can feed my face to pay for things that are needed My family all live lives of there own sometimes they even remember that I exist A simple call to say hello how you doing it's such a difficult thing My life is not great and wonderful I wish it was better To not have to work or feel the pains to have all the money I need But I don't have all the money I do feel the pain, I have to work I have a screwed up family a family that isn't perfect What I do have is a woman that when I wake up each day she makes my smile She puts a smile on my face Makes me feel like I have a million bucks She isn't perfect, far from it But she is perfect for me She is the reason I can work through the pain I can live each day a very happy man I would not give her up for anything in the world she is my everything I love her so very much She is the other half on me

~Jesse Jacobo

~ Making Friends Online ~

2014-11-03T19:10:00.003-08:00

Since we moved to California about a year ago I have fallen into a deeper and darker depression than I've ever known. It's not just the move itself, as it has its positive points too starting over but it is the sum of losing so many important things. I lost my Mom 5 years ago and not being able to visit her grave site or, more importantly, places we visited together in our hometown is very difficult. Also, my 15 and 17 year old are no longer here with me. As a Mom who respects her kids, I let them choose to move back East after only a short stay here because they too missed their friends and the familiarity of home. I've been sick physically and on top of that have only recently been able to get health insurance and begin taking the medications I need for my depression and anxiety...It is all part of who I am now but it is not all that I am. Its just a stumbling block for me. One I will overcome.

It's an awful feeling to be so alone in a place where the only people I know are Jesse and his family. After Jesse leaves for work I either go hide in bed and pray for sleep or I put on my headphones and listen to the music on my Ipod. I settle in with my thoughts and my worries because to spite the sadness they give me, they are real and honest though, at times, very self defeating...and they keep my company. Even though I wasn't the most social person back home in Massachusetts, at least I had familiar and safe places to go and family I could talk to and visit. Here I know no one. It's why I am on social networking more than ever...

Being alone isn't upsetting in itself. I like my "me" time. I can listen to whatever music I like, write, clean, not clean (lol), and watch whatever I want on the television. But there are times that even my self isolation is too much and I find myself drowning in it. Like a great wave that kicks out the earth below my feet, I have to hold on for the ride and let it overwhelm me because I have no control... I need someone to talk out loud to~ I need to hear a human voice and know that I am connecting to something more than this depression. Otherwise the silence gets so overbearing and the loneliness becomes a way of life. I sink deeper into my own world.

I have some very good friends online~ Some of them are old classmates, some are family and friends I've known all my life and others are people I've met strictly online. It can be difficult to bond with new people. New friends don't yet know your stories, your quirks or what you've been through...And you don't know the same things about them. There is only so much you can tell another person through messages and texting. And lets face it, no matter how good you might be at writing and describing your life, it's up to time and the other person's understanding to get across your true self. Especially because reading eachother's texts and messages is not the same as hearing one another's voices. How can I know what the true emotions they are putting forth are and how can I convey my own true feelings?

I have been lucky enough to "meet" a few very good people this way. The relationships didn't happen overnight. Often I've given a lot of time and attention to people who I thought meant well only to learn that they were feigning interest to get my trust and set themselves up to hurt me. It took a long time to get in a comfortable groove where I could trust that what I wrote, that the truth I told, would be taken to heart and not used against me, only to have a few people unexpectedly turn on me or disappear. Too many people online seem to be looking for someone like me to take advantage of. It's nothing personal, they just suck. I think that is the one of saddest things I've learned in this life.

So, I beg for myself and all trusting people like me everywhere to those people out "there" in real life and online,~ please don't take it for granted when someone takes the time to get to know you, to share their worst fears and greatest dreams and to give you their precious time. You may be one of a very small amount of people that "we" trust...You may be the only person in our lives that we think we can be real with. So having a person come along and earn our trust and time only to find out that the person was using us, is heartbreaking. I know that there will always be users as long as there is money, sex or ego to be gained, but I pray that the people that I give my time to are giving back just as much of themselves...That they truly mean well. If they don't, I beg of them to move on...Find some other form of abuse to put your energy into that doesn't include hurting us trusting and loving people. This world is broken, I am too broken, and life is too short to be giving out oneself to people who only want you when they need something or have time for you. Maybe I am the biggest fool, but I have yet to learn not to trust. I have to believe that there are still good people in this world and that even bad people can change.

In time I will get through this and all the people with bad intentions will prove and weed themselves out. I won't give them a second or a third chance anymore. Life is just too short and I'd rather be alone than be with anyone who doesn't see me for the good, albeit broken, woman I am.

How To Lose A Facebook Pervert In 10 Easy Steps

2014-10-14T19:44:00.005-07:00

If you are a woman and on Facebook (or any social network), you know the drama that comes along with friending some people. If you are like me, you've friended people who you may not know outside in the "real" world but who have similar interests or play online games you do. Some strangers can be perverts for sure but sadly sometimes it's people you went to school or worked with that are now suddenly "brave" enough to hit on you because they are safe behind a computer screen. Some of the pervs come out of nowhere and even without being your fb friend send you messages. (Case in point...Just got this in my "other" file of my messages.

" Hi, I got attracted to your profile while browsing through, I must be frank with you and say; you are looking quite cute and beautiful in your profile picture, though I’m much more humbled by the serene looks of your eyes and your smile. I am Jason, and I'd like to get to know you, and be your friend... if u don't mind."

Yeah, Jason...Like that is going to happen ;)

It doesn't matter what your relationship status is or if you go on and on in your status updates about how happy you are in your relationship, you will find your message box and wall chock full of messages from men...and some women. Some are scammers hoping to tell you their "sob" stories in hopes that you will send them money. Other are just pure perverts. Period. Well, it's taken me some time but I've finally figured out which ones are perverts with bad intentions and which ones are nice guys who just happen to be perverted. This is how you figure them out and below this list is my best advice on how to get rid of them...

1) When "they" start a random conversation with you assume immediately that they have bad intentions because from my experience, most of them do. This way you will have your guard up. If they sincerely just want to chat then you can be pleasantly surprised.

2) If you are like me and you're too nice and feel you must reply back with a "hello" to someone who greets you in your messages, don't be surprised if the next line is "You are soooo pretty." or some kind of line like that. While we all like compliments, very few real friendships start with a judgment of your outside...It's up to you if you want to give that person more time but if you do watch out for number 3.

3) They ask you if you are with someone. Duh, read my relationship status. It's not hidden. And no matter what you say they don't care. They are just pretending they do.

4) You post a status about something and they are the first to like it and reply with some sexual comment. Now we all have friends like that...and if you know them, great. But if you don't know them from Adam then they are a Pervert.

5) They say they "accidentally" sent you a message. They meant to click on a friend they know well but inadvertently clicked your name. And started a conversation. And didn't notice that the picture and name wasn't their friend? Yeah, ok. Shaking my head.

6) They have something, anything, in common with you.... They noticed it when looking through your FB page. Yet they didn't notice that you are engaged, married, in a relationship? Yeah sure.

7) They read your stuff and tell you how "talented" you are yet never go back to read it after the initial one. Why? Because they were only doing it to feign interest.

8) They are nowhere to be found when you want to chat yet when they want to talk, they expect you to be there waiting.

9) They ask for pictures... I know, right. That is an easy one but the "smart" ones wait a little while before dropping that bomb.

10) They have no interest in you after the initial time they pretended to care. They never ask how you are, what you are doing or ask you about something you mentioned before. If someone really cares they won't forget that you told them you have an important doctors appointment that is causing you concern or that you were stressed over the next day at work..Etc, etc.

I can add to this list forever....There are so many schemes. Honestly, I have more respect for the ones that just get the point right away...Instead of wasting your time pretending they know you, want to know you, give a crap at all~They state that they want a friend with benefits and blah blah blah. At least they aren't acting like they care, aren't playing on your emotions, etc.

I admit, it's not always so clear what someone's intentions are. I've met people on face book who seemed to truly want friendship. They've played the part of "friend" so well that it was difficult to tell that they were playing me. One in particular would give just enough information about himself and show just enough concern to make me think we had what was a possible lasting relationship.I think those are the worst types, the lowest of the low, because they hide their intentions deeply within a facade of being a friend. I only realized too late that I was only good for him when he was bored...I didn't have any real value to him and my purpose in his life was just as a "plan b". The signs were all there but I was too overtaken by my own naivity and sincere hope to see it. The list to figure it out is the same as above but be warned... If they are any good at the game their motives will be glossed over by promises of "maybe someday" and by telling you what you want to hear.

Here are ways to make most perverts run (Other than blocking them which isn't as fun and let's face it, they will possibly just make a new facebook account with a different identity and try to friend you again anyway...True story..)

1) Talk... A lot. Tell them your entire life story (of course making up most of it because who wants a pervert to know the intimate details.) Make it interesting but for the love of GOD, Do NOT talk about anything remotely sexy. This part is difficult because a true perv finds almost everything sexy.

2) Talk about your cats. A LOT. (Or whatever animal you choose). There is nothing "Sexier" than a person who talks about their pets like they are people and rambles on about everything from the cute things they do to their toilet habits.

3) Tell them you're dying. It's not a lie. We all are. No perv finds death sexy...Well, I've been told that a few do but I am NOT going there. That is where the block and report buttons come in handy.

4) Tell the Pervert that your significant other reads all your messages and can (and has) tracked down any man who messages you.

5) Ask for money.

6) Ask for a kidney.

7) Ask about their relationship with their Mother.

8) Tell them you were once a man. Hopefully they won't like that.

9) If they ask you for your skype or your phone number, give them your significant others details. That will go over well.

10) Last, but certainly not least, if none of the above works, simply become clingy. Start to ask them lots of questions, "Where have you been? Why weren't you online? Why didn't you like my status? Where will you be tomorrow?? What will you be doing? Will you be thinking of me???" You get the point. The secret is to act like you want them more than they want you. Lots of people don't like it if there is no "chase".

If that doesn't work ask them if you can move in with them. No, you don't have money, you can't work and you have a few issues that need immediate doctor's attention but you will be fine in a few treatments of antibiotics. If that doesn't work then you really have found yourself a true freak.

~ When You Left ~

2014-10-06T20:08:00.001-07:00

Since you left, I don't cry over much anymore. I know real loss now so anything less does not cause me tears. There are so many things I miss about you, I wouldn't even know where to begin in order to make a list...In the end though, it's a colder world without you in it.

I often think about that last day. What I could have said, done, to help you stay. I know that I may not have had much power over your last breath but I cannot help but wonder. When the doctor said those final words, that you had left us, all I could think about, selfishly, was that there was no one left on the face of this earth that I could trust, who loved me like you did, and who could help all of us, including your Grandkids, see the world through your amazing eyes.

I have many regrets about those days. I was thrown into the position of having to plan your funeral and be the strong one. I admit I wasn't very good at it. I did have help from other family members~ Your siblings, your Mom and my sister. Still, in the end as Dad sat next to me in that funeral home as vulnerable as I'd ever seen him, I knew that life for us would never be the same. It came down to ordering flowers, picking out a casket, an outfit for you and so many other details. I remember someone from the hospital calling me at home to ask if I'd consider donating your organs, tissue, eyes. I remember feeling both insulted and confused. Confused because I couldn't recall if you'd ever shared your wishes about donation...Insulted because I couldn't imagine the Mother I idolized and loved for both her inner and outer beauty, separated from yourself. I do feel badly over my quick and emotional (probably selfish) answer to them. If I had said "yes" you may have been even a strangers reason for happiness and not just your family and friends.

I remember going into writer mode. You had been so proud of my writing. You thought I'd be a well known and published poet. My last gift to you was to write and read outloud to a church full of mourning family and friends about how you lit up a room, how your wonderful personality attracted even strangers and the beauty you carried and shared.

Mom, there aren't enough words to explain how sad we all were-how your loss continues to haunt us. My kids, your Grandkids, miss you so very much and talk of you often. We laugh about how you would get "upset" at Tessa for rolling her eyes. How Bailey was your first Grandchild and how Dad and you pretty much moved in with us once he was born. I am sad that they will not have the privelege of growing up with you at their side. You were, are, and will always be a beautiful memory to them. Honestly, they have nothing negative to say about you as you brought such joy and love to them. I never thought you could be anymore gorgeous or loving yet each Grandkid that came into this world brought out even more love and beauty from you.

Tomorrow would have been your birthday. While everyday is difficult without you here, there are certain days that are harder than others...The anniversary of your passing, Christmas, my birthday, your birthday, your anniversary date to Dad... I have more good days than bad, that's true, and I try not to feel sad when I think of you because I know you would have never wanted any of us to feel any of the pain we felt. But there are times, even on good days, that I remember that you no longer walk this earth and the loss I feel all over again coupled with the feeling of dread at the thought is just too much to bear.

I hope that there is a heaven, that God exists and that you are watching over us...I hope especially that you are watching over all your Grandkids including my two who are not here with me anymore. (The pain of that is a close second to losing you.) I pray that you are the angel watching over them. With you on their side, they are the luckiest kids.

Tears are rolling down my cheeks but not only for my own sadness over losing you. I cry also because I am just so very thankful that I was blessed with having you as my Mother and my best friend. The good in me is thanks to you and to Dad. I hope you are in Heaven looking down on us smiling that bright red, gorgeous smile. I hope I will make you proud. You continue to be my inspiration. I love you and I thank you.

~ Hope ~

2014-10-05T04:17:00.001-07:00

You awaken Hope,
raising it from a coma
with promises of a tomorrow.
Like a wounded bird it flutters
but does not yet fly.
It's wing is bent.
You pick up Hope,
bandage it there gently
then all at once toss it up into the air
and set it free.
It stutters, it begins to fall
but with some struggle,
it finds it's strength and takes on the sky.
Hope flies with such grace
and beauty...
It feels like another life came to it~
...Like it was never broken before.
Just as it begins to climb
and finds itself in the breath
of a gentle breeze~
Just as it lets it's wings go by it's side
and allows itself to glide~
you yank Hope down like it was always
connected to a string...
~Like it was a kite for which you played with
for your own amusement.
Hope nose dives to the hard earth
and crashes there
where it's only another fatality to you.

And it suffers there~
It's very last thought
undeserved but sadly of you.

© 2014 Stacy J French (Roosa) (All rights reserved)