This is the first time I am publishing this piece publicly.

It was written in 2009/2010  and placed on private journal entry.

At the time I could not share my pain. I couldn’t share anything. i could only wrap myself within myself and scream inside.

Today in some ways i am still screaming inside

I have learned one thing. one very important thing

to endure

 

it is a deep despair inside, a restlessness borne of not knowing but a the same time having to bear the contemplative thoughts of what will be and even worse what can be.

It is the realization that nothing, not even your children are truly yours, they belong to the state to banter and pass around like marketable goods.

These are my children, I chose to be a mum, I chose all that came with being a mum. I am not perfect and perhaps in the God’s eyes I have failed, or found to be lacking but to be judged by a stranger?

to have society and some one far away from the realities of our family, sitting in such high judgment of us who holds the ability in his hands to take all from under us, to take from us all we have , all we have built, and all we have planned and all we are is I guess to feel the ultimate loss. The loss of life, the loss of freedom, the loss of hat should be

The pain is unbearable, every minute I stop and heave a deep sigh, as if something is trapped and held within my very soul,  bursting to tear it’s way out to cause the ultimate pain a mother can bear. The loss of a child or the threat of the loss of a child.

I just tucked Kahleah into bed …I do feel my heart breaking with every breath. I watch their angelic faces as they begin to bloom again, only to face that it all might be ripped from us again. The tranquility and healing shattered, our family fragmented and forgotten.

My babies.  The pain is too much too keep writing, my tears beg annoyingly to be wiped away as they run in a constant stream down my cheeks unheeded. My vision is blurred. my heart is so heavy. I can’t  stop the waves of pain that rip through my soul.

it is the worse, it is rock bottom, it is the devastation that only a parent could dread. The memories flash like replay in full Technicolor windscreen through my mind of our life together, of our dreams, our hopes, and of our fear, of our nightmare.

Yet that nightmare, it was nothing, it had nothing  on this nightmare. This is the ultimate pain, the ultimate sequel to end the saga. The final control, the final cut.  and yes, it is the deepest, far deeper than I have evr endured from him before. Far worse than too much, it hurts so bad.

what registers is my babies, of my bond with them

of B as he says, “I hope you bought a hug with you mum” or “I know what you bought me home from the shop mummy, you bought me a kiss”.

Of listening to S’s operatic tones pierce my head in perfect pitch as she merrily dances around the house and her smiles at

me the love the bond between us as mother and daughter. Of K, my little sunshine, Her earnest blue eyes looking deeply into mine as she tells me one of her stories.

We are just now only beginning to find each other again. We are just beginning to mend and learning to walk all over again and now it is threatened with a destruction that i am powerless to stop.

and it hurts ………. bad….

I’m sorry i just need an outlet for this pain and I can’t publish this publicly….. I hurt

It’s funny. I am such an optimist. My motto in life is “the sun willl always shine tomorrow. Even if it is cloudy and stormy now, the sun is still up there shining and sooner or later those clouds are going to rain out and a big wind come and clear up the skies”.

 

 

 

But after picking up one of my diaries today that was written in 1982 I see now that it wasn’t always sunshine and puppies for me.

I had a hard adolescence. I was confused and sad and lost. I had no sense of identity and I was always searching for myself. Many of my readers know I was adopted out at birth after being born in a morgue and that struggle and search for identity seemed twice as hard to me than to anyone else.

I drifted from scene to scene, searching and looking for the place I belonged, with others who were like me, with people who could understand how I was thinking and why i was thinking it. They weren’t there. I was alone and lost in a world that was strange and alien to me. I would lie on my roof at night and look up at the stars, wanting to be out there amongst them and waiting for the aliens who dropped me off to realize that they had left me in the wrong place. This wasn’t my place, this wasn’t my life, this wasn’t my time.

Some of you know how much “trouble” I got into as a kid. I’m not going to go into details today about that but I am pretty open on it all. Looking back at my old journals though, I realized something.

 

Everything was so dark and dire and it was. I grew up too fast. I was a very old and deep thinking head inside a 15 year olds body with heaps of juvenile hormones running around. I was a loner and unable to find that sense of belonging or identity that seemed to slide so easily over the shoulders of those around me. I was very deeply introspective.

Nowadays I have a neat little label for myself. I don’t use it as I don’t feel even that label fits comfortably tagged on me. But having said that I do understand now and can in turn give that gift of understanding to my own children in order for them to make a much smoother transition from child to adult than I ever could of dreamed of.

No one understood me but in my search for understanding myself. I now understand my children.

See Now I know this is my life and I know this is my place and I know this is my time.. and its all good.

Did you have a hard time as a teen? Or was your transition smooth and easy flowing ebb, into the world of an adult.