Never Grow Up

Never Grow Up

This is  from the perspective of an 11 year old boy.

My mom has taken a temporary vacation to never-never land. Again. She must have been side tracked while caring for all the lost boys, because to me, it feels as if she rarely returns.  When she does visit me, she seems to have morphed herself into Peter Pan  She  never seemed to grow up.

 She’d sneak through my window late at night, linger just long enough to make me believe in fairy tales and happy dreams, then she’d fly away again. When her heart felt lonely or bored, she would return to me.  I’ll never know why she would vanish, nor do I really care, I only needed to know that she would return. The worst thing about being abandoned by a parent is this: you still love them even when they don’t deserve it.

At night, I’d sit on my window-sill looking for the second star to the right, all the while wondering if she was looking too. I was almost a teen when she went away, so doing things such as wishing on pennies made me feel so childish. I wished anyway. I think every person has a small section of their heart designated to their inner child. That way, when something from your innocence as big as your mother suddenly leaving, your inner child awakens and begins to cry.

Unfortunately, in my case, it was a long time before she came back to soothe me, but she did come back.

I had become so obsessed with waiting for her that eventually the ticking of clocks became as painful as crocodile teeth in my skin.

That’s why I never frowned upon hook; it isn’t until you experience pain that you start to realize sometimes the bad guy makes more sense.

 And even after five years I still feel like Wendy, waiting in my bed every night for one last kiss. Reciting how much I believe in fairies and hoping that one day I’ll be able to fly off into the night, to feel my mothers love again.

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A Mom’s Love…a poem

A Mom’s Love…a poem

God’s calling you home, and I must let you go.

I’ll cherish every moment, I want you to know.

You’ve wiped all my tears but just once again,  you’re more than my mother, your my very best friend.

There’s things that I’ll miss, and I will everyday.

I won’t say goodbye, cause I want you to stay. Just know that I love you and we’re never far apart, you’ll be closer than ever cause you’ll live in my heart

So I’ll kiss your cheek, and hold onto your hand; everything happens for a reason, I just wish I’d understand.

Now hold me closer, let me feel your soft touch,

Your the best mom for me, and I will miss you so much.

You are my angel and it’s now time to go fly.

So remember my smile and don’t see me cry.

We’ve had ups and downs of course through he years, but the love you’ve shown me, outweighs all the tears.

I couldn’t be prouder to say you belong to me, we’ll meet again in heaven, just wait and see.




What i feel for him now borders on insanity. I mean, is it natural for such a positive, life loving woman like me to feel such a charge, such a physical reaction to his mere presence?  This reaction cant be normal. Even now, almost two decades after our first encounter, regardless of the absolute hell we have made it through, I still have an almost visceral reaction to every look or word he directs at me.
I’m absolutly certain that those of you reading this are thinking, “why is this even an issue? Grab hold and never let go.” Which is exactly what I crave to do and exactly what I wish I could do. Here’s the rub. If you read some of my other posts, then you may have some idea as to what the ever growing, ever evolving barrier between not only him and I, but him and everyone else is. If not, allow me to enlighten you.  He is sick.  Very sick.  Mental illness, schizophrenia to be exact.  It has slowly, but very accurately, stolen him from me. Piece by piece and memory by memory. The man that I fell madly In love with at first sight, is now gone. image

I am a rare breed when it comes to love and relationships. If I had to compare my idea of commitment to something, it would be as if I were the captain of a sinking ship. Well, I am that captain that goes down with his ship. Or at least for the last 2 decades i have been. And now it’s reached clutch time, sink or swim. I want to swim, but my heart and loyalty tells me to go down with the ship.
My inspiration for this post stems from a 4 day period.  I spent them with him. It broke my heart into a million pieces to wittness the tremendous amount of torment and pain that he is in. He is now a prisoner in his own mind, and as I quickly learned, there is no penetrating the walls he has unknowingly constructed all around his tortured world. The voices control his every nuance and action now. In the the begining he used to try to hide the fact that he heard them, but as I found out while in the shower, he can no longer distinguish fact from fiction. In fact, it almost seems to me that the voices and people he sees are more real to him than reality. And if being ignored is not painful enough, now he says things like “They hurt me all the time”. But the one statement that he made during our brief, four day visit, sent chills down my spine. It was not even the words, but the conviction behind them. He calmly stated that it would all be ok soon, because he was going to blow his brains out, and that he was looking forward to the silence.
I have begged and begged him to get help, I have told his father about this new development, as he also knows firsthand how sick he is. His mother shot herself at about his age. What can I do? Please, any and all advice is needed and welcome. The clock is ticking.

Blame- The Begining

Blame- The Begining


I am adopted.

Now, please, don’t feel bad for me; I don’t.  I was only 3 days old when I was placed with my family, so it’s pretty safe to say that I never even met my birth mother.  The only information I have been given is that she was very ‘young’.  I got this little tidbit of information from a letter I found as a teenager while snooping in my parent’s files. The letter was from the lawyer who handled my adoption.  I only bring it up, because as far back as I can remember, adoption has been my chosen crutch for my HUGE fear of being abandoned.  In reality, I probably fear being abandoned because so far every single person I have loved or cared about has left me in one way or another.  Some by distance in miles, some by distance in their hearts, and some by distance in worlds (they died).

It is my fear of abandonment that has directly influenced many of my life choices over the years.  One such choice has been to leave or push away anyone I care about before they can leave or push me away.  Needless to say, this was not a life-enhancing decision. Only now, after all of my trial and error experiments, I simply enjoy my time with whoever enters my life.  I no longer push people away.  At some point, I realized that everyone who has come into my life, all at specific points in time, have done so for a reason.  All I know for certain is that every interaction has a role in the tapestry of my life.  Even the seemingly insignificant ones.  Either they needed me at some point in their life, or I needed them.  By choosing to not push people away I opened myself to either learn from or help another through a challenging point in their life.  Also by not pushing people away, I have gained a couple of friends that have actually stuck by me through thick and thin, and this is a reward in of itself.


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The Fallout- Rock Bottom

The Fallout- Rock Bottom

Everyone makes mistakes.”  I swear on all I have that I have heard this statement, literally, thousands of times.  Unfortunately for me, this seemingly forgiving statement was only said to me throughout my, shall we say, ‘younger years.’  During my late 20’s, I clearly remember going through an embarrassingly long period of denial about the seriously messed up state I found my life in. 

Even now, as I am writing this, I find my self snorting in derision. My very unladylike snort is due to the fact that, even now, that ‘messed up’ time in my 20’s? Well, that was a freaking walk in the park on a warm spring day, compared to my present circumstances, which I am, from here on out, going to refer to as ‘the fallout’. wp-1452460643075.jpg
Now, let me clarify something.  Anytime I say anything on the messed up state my life is currently in, I am not referring to my present living circumstances. I have actually been ‘living’ in a very nice, extended stay hotel however, before the ‘fallout’, i owned my very own, amazing home. Which I resided in with the only real true love of my life my amazing son, also living there was my then boyfriend of 6 years LJ, 2 dogs, 13 cats, 2 chickens (Bessie & Millie), 5 fish tanks, and for a very short time: 2 ducks. But I’m rambling. My point is, ‘the fallout’ is referring to the many friends, job, family, etc. that, due to MY bad choices, decisions, and behaviors I lost. The changes that I am in the process of making, i hope, will help me get back on the road that one day will lead me back to what really matters…so stay tuned readers…cropped-wp-1451993858267.jpg