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Rest in peace

July 8, 2011 By ANONYMOUS 6 Comments

Dear Dad,

I hope that you are finally at peace. It has been 40 years since you took a shotgun, placed it between your legs and pulled the trigger with your toes.

I can’t say that I was bereaved. I didn’t feel much of anything except great relief that you would no longer be there to torment me. I was glad that you were dead. I found in you nothing that was redeemable. You were the terror in my life. You were the fear I lived with every single day.

Now, that 40 years have passed, I have come to the place where I am seeing for the first time some of the good things you gave to me. There are some good memories that I can grab on to and dream that you loved me.

I remember the swing set that you built for me and my sister. It was a masterpiece. There is a picture of me pushing “B” on the swing and there was delight in both of our faces.

I remember a trip that you took to Wyoming to hunt for deer. You brought me a beautiful necklace and to this day I can still see the image within it.

I remember the tee-pee you created and had mother sew for us. It was made from old car seat covers. We had fun playing in it and pretending that we were Native American princesses.

I remember the one and only birthday card you ever sent to me and you signed it “Love Dad.” You must have loved me! I never knew.

So, dad, I do hope that you have found peace because I have finally found the peace that I’ve been searching for.

 

Filed Under: Childhood, Family Tagged With: , , , , , , , ,

Grandpa’s farm

June 3, 2011 By ANONYMOUS 3 Comments

My fondest memories from my childhood are the times my family and I went to Grandpa’s farm. It was so quiet there and we could smell the wheat growing and smell the hay in the barn. We got to watch as my grandpa milked ol’ Bessie. He used to squirt the farm cats with the fresh warm milk. As kids we enjoyed a freedom that we never had at home. Our dad kept tight reigns on us all the time and we didn’t have the luxury of just running around and playing freely. But, at Grandpa’s, we had all the freedom we needed.

We haunted the woods behind the house and walked through weeds and cactus. We found a spring of wonderful cold water to refresh us during the hot summer days. The water was clear and clean and we could actually drink it. Try to find that kind of water today. Further on we came upon the old cow pond. Oh, the fun we could have there. Believe it or not (and it sounds yucky now) we would swim in that dirty old pond and pretend that it was our own swimming pool.  It was another wonder of being on the farm. We never thought of not being able to run all over the place and discovering the special places that were offered to us. We never worried about getting lost. We were free.

There was a river at the end of the fields of wheat my grandpa had. We loved going there although we could never go into the water for fear of drowning. On occasion my folks, Grandpa and us kids would go down to the river and have a weenie roast and other delightful foods. It was such a celebration.Those happy memories. I just wish we could go back there again and roam the acres that were so familiar to us.

Unfortunately, Grandpa is gone and so is the farm. But, I can always travel there within my memories.

Filed Under: Childhood, Family Tagged With: , , , , , , , , , , ,

When all you have is a hammer

April 25, 2011 By ANONYMOUS 3 Comments

Ever wonder why you turned out the way you did?  As it’s not really my way to be too introspective, I didn’t spend too much time on it.  Lately, though, I’ve begun wondering about what makes me, well, me.  Here’s what got the whole ball rolling.

I’ve a friend who recently figured out that her mother is suffering from a Narcissistic Personality Disorder (NPD).  Well, her mom doesn’t suffer, but everybody else around her sure does.  I have found books, and support groups, and lots of help for my friend, and at last she seems to be finding some peace.

But now I’ve begun wondering about my own childhood.  There’s an old saying about how when the only tool you have is a hammer, everything starts to look like a nail.  And with over 1.5 million Americans diagnosed with NPD, there are a lot of nails wandering around loose.   Example: imagine a seven-year-old child whose mom is trying to type a college term paper.  The slightest noise would set off screaming and throwing, so everybody tip-toed until she was done.  Even at seven, I knew better than to make noise, so I went into my room, closed the door, and played quietly.  After a time, I began to sing quietly to myself, as seven-year-old children will.  After a minute or two, the typewriter stopped.  My first inkling something might be wrong was when the bedroom door slammed open.  Through the portal stormed a demon I had trouble recognizing as my own mother, trailing a thin leather belt from one claw.  She dragged me to my feet by my hair, and screaming something about how she needed silence for her work, she proceeded to lash me from ankles to shoulders with the belt.  Everywhere it bit, I bled.

I cannot tell you how long it went on.   The demon finally tossed me in a corner and left.  I didn’t dare so much as whimper, lest the demon return and start in again.  After a few moments, the typewriter again began its uneven beat, as if nothing at all had happened.  After a few minutes, I managed to crawl to the bathroom to tend my wounds. My father came in about then, and helped me with the ones I couldn’t reach.  He kept telling me to be quiet so my mother wouldn’t come in and “”finish the job.”"

To this day, people accuse me of a certain level of exaggeration about this incident.  That’s when I lift my shirt and show them the marks.  Some of them did not heal perfectly, and jokes about old girlfriends or the time I wrestled the tiger don’t erase the truth. Others say she was probably in a “”black rage,”" and didn’t know what she was doing.  Sorry, but in one of those blind rages, you pick up and use any convenient object.  That belt was chosen specifically because it would cut and bloody me.  That damage was intentional as hell.  In this day and age, she would have been thrown in jail, and her children removed to foster care.  In that day and age, they gave her a teaching credential and allowed her to inhabit a classroom for 30 years.

Good Old Days?  Perhaps not.  Of course, helping my friend find answers to her personal demons has given me a new tool for my own “toolbox.”  I’m beginning to think mom’s pathological behaviors, psychotic breaks, and screaming rages are proof of an undiagnosed NPD.  Yep, Mom’s a nail.  She’s why I defend the helpless, and fight for those who can’t.  Thanks, Mom, for everything.

 

photo courtesy of Google Images

Filed Under: Childhood, Confession, Family Tagged With: , , , , , , ,

Good Cheating?

March 28, 2011 By ANONYMOUS 3 Comments

imageI am a very bright person. My downfall? I’m a follower. She has to succeed for me to succeed. How do I help? In elementary school, my dad would be sitting at the kitchen table helping my sister with her homework. She never understood how to do it, but I did. I was 3 years younger than her, but these things just came to me. I was always just smarter. So I would do it for her. I thought I was helping, but I know she didn’t learn anything that way.

High school, I was kicked out of 2 my 10th grade year along with my older sister. I dropped out of high school the 2nd week into my senior year. Why? Because my sister (whom is my best friend) dropped out before me.

I recently got my life in order and registered for classes at a local community college, while my sister is still struggling. She is a single mother of my amazing nephew who has saved my life, and probably hers too. She hasn’t graduated high school yet but just wants to go to college. There is a way she can, by passing the GED test or scoring college level on the placement test. She failed the GED test and didn’t score high enough on the placement test. I on the other hand placed college level in 9th grade, I probably could of done it earlier if I had attempted. To take the test all they do it check your id and then you log onto a computer with your social security number, they don’t check anything else. The plan? Me and my sister are going to take the test the same time (as we had when I was in 9th grade) but I will log in as her and she will log in as me, since I am already enrolled into another college, it wont matter if she fails me. All I want is for my sister to succeed, do I feel bad? Of course. Cheating isn’t the best thing, I don’t want to set her up for failure, but I just wanna push her in the right direction. She is the type to get discouraged easily and just stop. I need her to succeed so I have the motivation to succeed myself in my own life. I live off other people, this is how I am, and I’m not sure how to change that.
I don’t wanna live her life for her, but I want to help her. This is how I help her. Will she ever learn on her own? I hope so, I’m just getting her foot in the door. Am I trying to justify what I will be doing? Of course.

Filed Under: Confession, Family, Shh. Secrets.

It’s right, but it sucks.

February 28, 2011 By ANONYMOUS 5 Comments

imageAbout two weeks after my son’s 18th birthday, he decided, after much mental and verbal preparation ("When I turn 18, I can do whatever I want to."), to turn in his house key and I haven’t seen him since. The rules (simple ones I assure you), were too much to bear. Here’s what happened:

The day he turned 18, he got laid off from his job of nearly two years. At least, I thought, he will have the safety of home, the support and encouragement to get out there and find another way to pay for gas and his expensive phone. School work will be easier to complete with more available time. Wrong thinking. Not only did he seemingly not crack a book, he proceeded to blow through his remaining funds even faster than before, and began asking ME to fund his extra-curricular life (did I mention that he does not eat at home…and yes, I can cook). I refused.

I began to see less and less of him, and had to resort to calling the various parents where he typically "hangs." Yes, he had been there. No, not EVERY night. Yes, we’ll keep an eye on him when he’s here, etc. But that was then…now it’s different. I don’t know where he is. He doesn’t answer his text messages (phone calls? Are you kidding me?). He did manage a text the other morning, asking me to call the school because he "forgot" to do an important assignment. I refused.

"I’m screwed," he responded.

So am I.

Smartly Comment policy: Comments are not needed if you are going to bash, be critical or name call. We are not here to be judge and jury. We are hear to read. To listen. And to hopefully allow the writer to tangibly express emotions that have yet to be fully articulated. Remember you do not HAVE to comment, so if you do Smartly asks that you comment responsibly. Thank you.

Filed Under: Family, Regrets

An Unlikely Teacher

February 24, 2011 By ANONYMOUS 5 Comments

imageI’ve had many teachers in my life, some who succeeded in teaching me something valuable, and some I ignored. But one person has taught me more than anyone I’ve ever met.

Because of him, I have a strong work ethic so I don’t get fired time and again.

Because of him, I pay my bills on time and manage my money well so I don’t end up mooching off my friends and family.

Because of him, I respect my child and am respected in return.

Because of him, I keep my promises so my friends and family don’t think I’m a flake.

Because of him, I am honest so people aren’t always wary of my words.

Because of him, I donate my time, money and self lest I be thought of as selfish.

I am constantly learning from him. My ex-husband.

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Filed Under: Confession, Family, Marriage

Grief.

February 14, 2011 By ANONYMOUS 1 Comment

imageI have been going through the deepest grief I’ve ever experienced before. My dearest, precious cousin just died suddenly and my heart has been broken. I would like to share with you a poem I wrote about this sorrow.

When does the crying cease?
When will the sorrow lift from my soul?
Will the grief finally end?

Why does it hurt so much?
I have trouble describing the loss I feel.
I find no comfort for my breaking heart.

I’ve never hurt this way before
How many pieces of my heart can be broken?
When will the pain go away?

I look for you in my dreams
I listen for your voice.
I can’t find you anywhere.

I miss your laugh
I miss your comfort
I miss you so much!

Filed Under: Family

With Regrets…

January 21, 2011 By ANONYMOUS 3 Comments

imageTo my children’s grandparents:

I’d like to apologize for having given birth to inconvenient grandchildren. I wouldn’t call them imperfect, because there’s no such thing as a perfect human being. So ‘inconvenient’ will have to suffice, for why else would you find it so difficult to spend time with them like you do your other grandchild?

It’s not jealousy that prompts this – I’m the mother of all of your grandchildren. Perhaps that’s why it grates so badly. I see the way you treat my eldest, the easy one. She’s fairly neurotypical, very mature for her age, eager to please and to try new things, an easy traveler – in short, she doesn’t take much effort.

Not so her siblings. They both have "issues" – nothing that can’t be overcome with some effort. We (their parents) do it, their teachers do it, our friends try, and I do see you trying sometimes too. But you give up far too quickly. It’s as if they just aren’t worth your best effort.  They are worth all that and more, and I promise that you’d see a return on your efforts if you’d only take the extra time and effort that we do. They love you. You love them. Why is it so hard for you to spend the extra time with them the way you so willingly do with the "easy" one?  It doesn’t even have to be equal amount if time – just equitable.  The easy one understands the dilemma and wants the others to enjoy the same type of relationship with their grandparents.  If a child can see the issue and solution, why not the adults?

It’s your loss, ultimately. If we play things right, they may never notice that you play favorites. But it will be a loss to you, and to them, and to your relationship with the eldest. She notices. She sees. She understands.

I hope that you will too.

Smartly Comment policy: Comments are not needed if you are going to bash, be critical or name call. We are not here to be judge and jury. We are hear to read. To listen. And to hopefully allow the writer to tangibly express emotions that have yet to be fully articulated. Remember you do not HAVE to comment, so if you do Smartly asks that you comment responsibly. Thank you.

Filed Under: Family, Rant

Horrible In-Laws

January 18, 2011 By ANONYMOUS 1 Comment

My husband is an only child of a single mother and his mother has a mental illness. Before we met, he was badly affected by her illness and there was no one to help him get her better. He was only 6 or 8 when he first remembers his mother thretening to kill herself because "nobody loved her and they wouldn't notice she was dead". Since then this has happened time and time again.

She almost ruined our relationship in the begining by calling me horrible names but it was all because she didn't want to loose her only support in life. He took care of her financialy and socially. When she didn't change even if I tried to be nice to her, I resorted to being mean. It didn't really make any difference.

When we had our first child, I told her she would never be allowed to babysit him because I didn't trust her. She tried to hit me and I had to throw her out, almost getting physical. She ended up calling her siblings and mother to tell them how horrible I was and that she was going to the local mental institution to talk to them about me and how insane I was! She was ofcourse only trying to get attention, not help, but the staff at the hospital realized she was a sick woman and she was committed for 2 weeks.

In those 2 weeks my husband finally felt like someone else could take care of his mother and togeather we drew a line she couldn't cross.

So instead of talking to her on the phone 3-7 times a day, sometimes as late as 11pm, he answers the phone 1-2 a day and never after 9pm.  Instead of having to go to her to fix something she could well do herself (he used to go over to change lightbulbs for her), he only goes to help her when it's something hard she can not do by herself. Instead of giving her money to pay for her house and car, he just lets her deal with the bank herself.

She is still a disruptive force in our life, but we realize it and try to minimize the effect by not talking to her to much.  She spends Christmas day with us, but no other holliday and she will never get to babysit my kids, I will rather leave my husband then let her poison their lives like she poisoned his for 30 years.

My biggest secret is that I look forward to her death since I feel like our lives will not be perfect until she is no longer any part of it.
I'm not proud of it, but it is the truth.

Filed Under: Confession, Family, Shh. Secrets.

Family Ties

January 12, 2011 By ANONYMOUS 5 Comments

imageI have spent the last year studying self help and motivation books. They all tell me to eliminate the negative people from my life. If you want to succeed and grow, surround yourself with people who are doing the same. It really does make sense. Then the people around you will help you beat your fears and rise with you. You are motivating to them, they are motivating to you. What about family? You really can’t just drop them like the high school friends who switched paths. They are the one really, really negative voice in my life. The one voice that always tells me i’m too fat, to dumb, too much of a dreamer. The voice that seems to back up all the thoughts in my bad self image (which I am doing daily affirmations to counter!)
My family has no desire to change their lives. They are content living pay check to pay check and struggling to pay the bills. that is how their parents did it, so why try to break the cycle? When I read the books or go to the seminars they just laugh at me and ask when I am going to give up and start a normal life. I think I have a normal life so far. Married with plans for kids in the future, cats to keep my house a little chaotic, the standard 9 to 5 desk job.
Can I drop them? Will I ever be able to just tell them that I don’t need them there?

Filed Under: Family
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