Welcome to my Stains from another Life.

These are ALL MY memories. Most of them seem so long ago and feel like another lifetime or like they happened to another person.

In my 20 years of conventional therapy, 10 years of it being cognitive behavioral therapy, I have some significant insight into my warped, overly analytical, critical, hyperactive brain that just can’t relax! So, I am taking a shot at these writing remedies in hopes to heal and realize a mental calm.


The posts SHOULD be read in chronological order, The first post will be the "first chapter" and the most recent post will be the "lastest chapter" and so on. So, for those of you new to my blog, start at Scar #1. This is important to follow my life events in order to be able to understand and follow.

Anyway~ I hope you enjoy! And I don't want, need or expect ANY sympothy...this is just the way my life has been...it is what it is. I wouldn't be me without this history and right now I don't think I'm that bad. Key words; RIGHT NOW!

However, you are welcome to follow me and feel sorry for me on my facebook page..that page is Exclusively for bitching and complaining about my current life!

Be Well and Happy!

www.facebook.com/ScarsAndCircumstance




Sunday, March 22, 2015

Are you gonna be Our Mom?


I wanted nothing more in life than to be a mother and have a family. After one failed marriage under my belt (8 years together) and the realization that I would never have children of my own found me in great despair in May 2002. I wound up in the psych ward after learning my first husband was having a baby with another woman and we had only been legally divorced for a month. I was so distraught and jealous and monumentally wounded that the love of my life at that point was having a child with someone else. I had always hoped it was not only just me that couldn’t but maybe, just maybe he couldn’t either and that was ok with him and me, but his mother felt emphatically the opposite.

This hospital stay, I met Luis. Luis was a veteran who was just returned from fighting in Bosnia but was hospitalized because his wife of 9 years, left he and their two young children for good. Giovanni was 5 and Nina was 3. She had not really been apart of their lives much in the role of mother their entire lives, but made it official, she was OUT in May 2002. Same month as my realization that I wouldn’t be a mother. He was a dad left with two children and no mother… PERFECT, RIGHT???!!!! It seemed pretty perfect. It ended up being a challenge, raising someone else’s children, them depending on you for everything, calling me mom, but I loved every moment of it. I can remember Giovanni and his little sweet 5 year old voice asking me on the phone when he was in Texas with Luis’ parents (where they spent 90% of their lives at that point because their mother always shipped them to his parents and Luis was always deployed overseas) if I was going to marry his dad, if I was going to be he and Nina’s step-mom, if he could call me Mom? I asked him; do you want me to? His reply was yes! And from that point on I was Mom, for the next 11 years. I’ve been gone from them since August 2013. My heart aches for the way our lives used to be. The holidays, the birthdays, the milestones, girlscouts, baseball, basketball, drama, hockey, the flu, home sick, home schooling, brushing teeth, getting ready for bed, school, homework, first period, the hug, the kisses, the I love u's, braces, boobs, mustaches, breakfast, lunch, dinner, snacks, being snowed in, first girl friends, sleep overs, snow days, vacations, adventures, our animals, Vinnie, Lola, Lucy and Chloe, HOME. I miss it all soooo terribly. I cannot describe to you the level of loss. It’s immeasurable. But home is a state of mind, right? That’s what I’ve heard. I’ve also heard it’s where the heart is. I believe both to be true. Like Luther Vandross’ A House is Not a Home. JUST EMPTY!

These are some of the casualties of war.

Luis now sits in a 600k dollar home with a $3,000 mortgage, on Workers Compensation alone in the ruins of what was once our refuge. Everything personal is gone, everything sold, all the pictures put away, the wall collages of our life in boxes. He is alone in his world and I alone in mine. I have No relationship with any family or friends from that time in my life. NONE! NOT ONE FUCKING PERSON! I am on Social Security Disability living 2500 miles from “home” where I KNOW NO ONE AND HAVE NO FUCKING SUPPORT OR HELP, I have no one to care for anymore, no one to look after, not even an animal. Trying to stay alive physically and mentally. Trying to get to this place where I can breathe without the disparaging feeling in my chest and throat, where I can’t swallow and I cry sooo hard I feel things pop in my head, like flashes of lightning. Where my crying makes me puke or dry heave depending on weather I have eaten, which hasn’t been that often the last few weeks. Just franticly trying to find the fucking answers. I thought the answer was to disconnect from people. People only hurt, that is what I have convinced myself of, it is my armor; it is my defense and offense. I am better off alone, for the majority of my time, but this isolation from human beings, basic human contact, a hug a kiss a smile being able to look at someone, anyone in the eye and feel loved… haven’t had that in what feels like an eternity. I really don’t trust anyone wholly and completely. I have my reservations about everyone and everything. I am skeptical and doubtful of anyone and their “word”. I have been abandoned and hurt by all I have loved and my soul annihilated, like the target of a 107 rocket. OBLITERATED! Now to OBLITERATE all these feelings and HEAL!

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