Wednesday, July 16, 2014


Each day, well it felt like each day, I woke, getting ready for work, literally begging god to help me find a way out.  One particular week, I noticed the beginning of a small, never ending, slight pain on my left side. Annoying, nothing more. While sitting in our hot tub at night, I floated, touching my ribs, feeling what felt like lumps. I quickly stopped touching that area. I went back, yep, it was lumps. But, I decided it had to be some sort of body part.
I had my regular yearly check up in sept, the beginning. Everything went well, urine, blood tests all good. I got the usual lecture about having a mammogram, I left. I never had a mammogram, never would.
This particular week, this pestering nuisance pain stayed.  I noticed while driving I shifted often to see if it would help. It came and went. At work, I just got crabbier and crabbier. Some of my work relationships disintegrated. Well, one. It had been a slow boil for awhile. Looking back I think each of us had valid points, each of us had stressors, but my newness of telling it like it is, brought it open. I was slowly learning to tell people when they piss me off, when I felt wronged, when in didn't agree. I was slowly learning to speak up. Things had been going on for awhile, things being said to my boss,  about me, things being said about other employees, that I felt were untrue and set ups for definitely trying to get someone fired. Also, I didn't like being asked to do things, they were not willing to do. Yes my job description was different, but we were so overloaded, each of us at times needed to do more. I did my more, but I was tired of some who passed the buck. Anyhow, it was not customary for me to stand up for myself. All my life I've held it in. I've taken the crap. I boiled inside. When I did stand up, I sounded like a nutcase because I took it for so long. I began thinking back to my childhood, my parents abusing me. The police laughing while I told my story of being molested by my father. The days of being served my meal thru a slot in the door because I was a runaway, I mean, why would I run away from a home of horrors? The days I finally got put into a foster home, get into high school, only to be shun, teased, bullied, by my peers. It was funny I was in foster care. It was funny I had little clothing, stunk, etc. I became the joke. I looked back on all this, the center of my pain. But,,,,one day, I took a job. I worked. I taught myself how to fix my hair, wear make up, I bought clothing. I returned to high school, with the guys wanting to date me! I joined clubs, I knew I was pretty. Not only was I pretty, I was nice. I was just a nice, quiet, sincere girl. I didn't get into the drama, I didn't play games. I just slowly began to live, to have a voice. My graduation to me, was a day again like my Kia, that only god understood. No one in my birth family had graduated high school. No distant relatives, no one. I almost quit to, as I grew very tired of studying, working to pay rent, etc. but,,,,I held on. I cried that day because despite all odds I did it. My marriage wasn't to far after high school. Of course because I wasn't fixed from all my childhood damage, my marriage was very unhealthy. Add to my inside pain, 20+ years of severe dysfunction. I had my 5 children, I kept some distance from my birth family, but hey, I still allowed some abuse. I'm jumping all over here, I hope you keep up! For some reason, this particular week, I was looking closer at my life. My childhood, my marriage, and now a job where I felt the same feelings of mistreatment. Frustration was huge for me. Now I'm not feeling well and I'm old, tired and dammit I'm going to speak up. I did many things those years to "fix" my life. Counseling, divorce, move. It all helped. I finally got to a place though that I decided, I would now walk the remainder of my life with a limp. Not a huge limp, but a limp. I remarried. We lost everything. Our kids hurt. But, we fought to rebuild a healthier life. It was and is but it's never going to be what it should have been. We are both wounded people, and trust is very hard to find.

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Ginger said...

I don't blame you for being frustrated with all you had going on, plus the crap you had to deal with as a child.