They Have it Worse

They Have it Worse

You think you got it bad there is someone who always has it worse.

They took your pride but they left your purse.

Is that supposed to make me feel better?

I could sit down and detail it in a letter.

You have no idea what I’ve been through.

Your eyes would cry a tear if you knew,

Or maybe you would talk the same way.

Judge me, then invite me to pray.

You think you know what it is like to walk in my shoes,

Do you know what it’s like to feel so blue?

To sit and wonder what your child would have been?

To question every moment, if not then?

Then times that by two and add abuse and a rape.

Are you astonished? Is that a gape?

Some have it worse, but some have it milder.

Some like it nice and some like it wilder.

Some think I’m a bitch, and some think I am kind.

I invite you to come inside my shady mind.

Then you’ll see the darkest, deepest corners,

Where they scream and claw at this greatest mourner.

I see my baby in my dreams.

She is perfect, life is what it seems.

But that dream fades and in comes the fear.

The reapers are all around. Their breath is near.

They take her away and leave me pleading.

She is fresh and I am still bleeding.

Then tease me with a greater life.

Hit me once, now hit me twice.

He was the flawless son.

His potential had just begun...

The harvester couldn’t take this one in the dark.

This time the jaws were as mean as a shark.

He left a scar that no one could hide.

He pilfered what was left inside.

The grim he took the future and left me blind.

Now who has it worst? Who can you find?

You know nothing about them, just as you know nothing about me.

Open your eyes and get off your worn knees.

God never made you judge over anyone.

You say he sent his Only Begotten Son?

That is for your mind not for mine.

Being on your knees weakens the spine.

So, tell me again how Some have it worse.

Because my life feels like it has been cursed.

I am not looking for your pity.

Asking you to get down and gritty.

I am not asking for anything at all.

You’re the reason I built a large wall.

To keep the Pharisees out and let no one else in.

Your words will not penetrate the skin.

Leave me alone and take your own course.

Empathy is one thing no one can force.

You can choose to be happy

As you know reading this blog I have chose not to have religion or god in my life. The pain and guilt attached to the two is more that I can handle. I choose not to believe in a God that closes his eyes and ignores the suffering of his creations on Earth. I am constantly looking for something that will ease this pain and longing of losing two children.

Today is the day Rhiannon died. 29 years ago she left me. She was laying next to me in bed. I woke up to find her cold and blue with blood coming from her nose. The images never leave my mind. So the day after Memorial day I am grieving like it was yesterday, but I have been grieving for what seems an eternity. One of Maya's friends is pregnant. She brings back so many memories for me. She sang in her last choir concert. She graduated. She stands proud. I want to put my arms around her and tell her to take everyday as a gift, to love that little girl, to take picture after picture. Not to be like me and take life for granted, to not take pictures, and to hold her every minute of every day.

The person who should be my biggest supporter has grown tired of my sadness and depression. He yelled at me and told me it has been long enough. He said 9 years is time enough to get over the death of my son. I said that I still haven't done it in 29 years. I cannot choose to be happy. There are days I am happy. I am coaching Lea's softball team again this year. I love it. I am happy some of the time, but some times I am paralyzed with the panic, anxiety and sadness. Some days I have a hard time getting out of bed. It makes me feel worthless. It makes me feel like I will never be normal again. Do you think I choose to be debilitated? He has diabetes. I told him he should choose not to have diabetes. I don't see a difference. I do not choose to have PTSD. I do not choose to be paralyzed when sirens go off. I do not choose to have uncontrolled shaking when a cop is behind me. I do not choose to have tremors so bad I can't write the roster for my softball team. I do not choose any of them. I do not chose to be miserable, but some days I am.

I did not choose to be sexually abused.

 I did not choose to lose my virginity to a 30 year old man who raped me when I was passed out drunk at 16.

 I did not choose to lose my baby girl when I was alone at the age of 18 and I did not choose to drive into a parked farm truck killing my handsome son, injuring 3 of my other children. I did not choose it. I am doing the best I can. 

Please don't place more guilt on me. Please don't knock me down further. Don't hold my head deeper under the water. I am losing consciousness. I am drowning. It doesn't matter the amount of time that passes, 9 years, 29 years, 31 years, or 38 years. I am doing the best I can. It may not be what you think is the best I can, but I am trying everyday I get out of bed. Everyday I love my babies. Everyday I do what I can to help them in their lives. If they call I am there for them. I am happy for Cyrus and his upcoming nuptials. I have the invitations done.

So there it is. Whatever you hear in church or on your radio Christian shows it is not true. I am not able to CHOOSE TO BE HAPPY.  These people , these church leaders and speakers think they know. I hope one day that diseases of the mind will be treated with the same attitude as diseases of the any other part of the body. PTSD cannot be prayed away. It cannot be wished away. There is no magic  cure, no blessing that will miraculously fix it. It is a difficult and excruciating process to be able to function in this world. I take my medicine. I see my counselor. I am trying.

I just wish the world could understand. I wish my loved ones could too. But just like CHOOSING to be happy it isn't that easy. If only I could choose I would.

Can I handle the seasons of my life?

Skip ahead to Landslide on the Playlist at the top of the page.

"I took my love, I took it down

Climbed a mountain and I turned around
And I saw my reflection in the snow covered hills
'Til the landslide brought it down
Oh, mirror in the sky
What is love?
Can the child within my heart rise above?
Can I sail through the changin' ocean tides?
Can I handle the seasons of my life?

Well, I've been afraid of changin'
'Cause I've built my life around you
But time makes you bolder
Even children get older
And I'm getting older, too"

Fleetwood Mac Landslide

I was walking in a retail store yesterday looking for a black dress for Lea and Maya for an upcoming occasion. When I passed the children section I became dark. At first I thought I am so glad that I am passed this time in my life, but then I got a bit uglier. I don't even want grandkids. I don't want to worry anymore. I don't want the chance of a loss again. It is better not to ever love than to love and lost. 

I am not handling the seasons of my life. I think I have reverted to the anger stage once again in this ongoing grief. Cyrus is getting married in 90 days. WOW! Maybe this "changin' ocean tide" is taking me under. Not that I am not ecstatic for him, I am. I am happy for him. He is happier than I have seen him in 9 years. She does that for him. 

It just sucks Loughlin won't be here to watch his lil brother tie the knot, or better yet tie the knot himself.