This must have been a practice run

I have shared my "ugly" abuse with you and you all have been more than kind to me. It has helped me to face it but I must tell you that it has also come with another tentacle. I envision this past event like an octopus sort of creature.

After really looking at "our", Shelley, the kids, and me, episodes, it is apparent that we need to address this with the children's counselors. Not something I look forward to doing but a necessary thing for them. If it will help them get on down the road to recovery and wholeness I am all for it. And yes you do sense a but.

I am wondering and worrying about my wholeness. I don't think I have integrated all of my "ugly" especially in view of the children's problems. I have had some really strong reactions to stressful situations. Some have been way out of proportion to the incidents and now I am being asked to go to the kids sessions. I am frightened.

I will do it. Right now, I don't know if I can do it. There is a saying, if wishes we horses then beggars would ride. I wish I could take it all away from the kids and I know that my going and participating in their sessions could very well do that, but I am scared. Of what I am not sure. Oh yes, I am sure I know....pain. Real gut wrenching awareness pain. It makes me sound so shallow and petty thinking of me but I am. 

So once again, there is the truth...I don't like it but there it is. I am scared of having to face my past again through helping the kids deal with there own personal pain. Yikes, what a coward.

Do any of you have suggestion for protection or preparedness for this thing that has to be done? If so, I would so appreciate it. I am in a fog right now with this hanging over me. I do know that venting through blogging has given me insights I didn't have before so I am open for whatever suggestions you may have as well.

Why??

I realize that I will never have an answer to the question I am about to pose but in the spirit of getting all the "ugly" out of my system, I must.

Why, if the "older" females in my family had been molested by my father, did they not try to save the younger females from the same fate?

My Mother must not have believed my sister's claim when she voiced her complaint to Mother. My Sis kept her own daughter, six years my junior, away from him. I'm not seeking any kind of pity party attendance here, I am just pondering. In my case, I repressed my memories or at least that's what my counselors have told me.

I've told you that I had my awakening after my Mother died so there was no asking her. But I did ask my Sis. Said she'd get back to me on that and it's been 5 years now, so I guess that I'm not getting an answer there either. The one thing my Sis did say was that she hadn't wanted to get on Mother's wrong side so that's why she never talked with Mother about her own abuse at his hands other than the initial complaint.

I have made every excuse I can think of for them, all of them, my parents, siblings, relatives, neighbors, friends of my parents. I have been so angry and betrayed and abandoned but that's crap. It boils down to this. I couldn't handle the abuse any other way than to cram it down inside of me as a child but the others were awake, in attendance, living and looking and chose to do nothing (for whatever lame ass excuse).

Today, at this moment, I choose to never forgive them for what they didn't do but I do forgive myself for accepting guilt over all this for all these years. This damn ugly fear/guilt weighs 100 extra pounds of body weight, has taken the best years of my life and happiness and I will not let "it" have any other sacrifices in order to appease this pain. I am at this moment free from "it" forever.

whelm (hwelm), v.t. to submerge, cover, or engulf.


I am always apologizing to SM, telling him I am sorry for being such a _________ (fill in the blank with bitch, grump, cry baby, bad mouth and on and on). This has been more frequent since the grands moved in with us. Poor man, 38 years of this up and down roller coaster I call my emotions. But it has come to a fever pitch as of late. The kids are making me nutz. I love um but nutz. SM's response is always, "babe, you're okay, you're just overwhelmed. Okay do I get to say No shit Sherlock here?


I wasn't sure there was a whelm word, so that's why I included the definition for you as well. Okay, so if we take SM at his word, which gawd knows he thinks you should, then I am over submerged, over covered, over engulfed. Sounds to me like I'm drowning...and btw, feels like it too.

In my adult brain, yeah that's a lie, I know that they are just kids, that soon they will be grown, that I am over reacting to the mess, noise, smell, lack of space, lack of privacy, lack of SM time....but ya know after working with other peoples kids for over 20 years and enduring them, having all of Shelley's friends be at our house, which I was thankful for most of the time, we got used to having things our way.

I know you have heard me bitch about this before but I am on the verge of exploding. As a matter of fact, I did just that yesterday on top of Shelley's ego.

Along with the reduction of space to breathe, think and live in, I (for those who have forgotten my main bitch of my life) don't have the use of a vehicle. My car, an orange (just because I could) Caliber. I had the dash cover embroidered with Oma's, have a back seat cover especially for the dogs, have crates fitted in the back for shopping bags to not slide and I can't drive the damn thing. I sit home 7 days a week without transport while Joe and Shelley go to work. When I arranged  told my family that I had to have the car one day of the week.....well let's just say it wasn't met with, why of course you do Mom, or let's do this more than one day a week, or it won't be long until I buy a car of my own and you can have yours back. Not until yesterday after Mount Oma blew her top.

I love to cook. I don't love to fix the same boring meals over and over because the kids won't try anything new. I even have a list of things they will eat and was asked to stick to it. WTH. Ry, with all his quirks requires some structure to his life and one of those ways of control is his control of what he eats and Gerea is a picky ass. So I go against the grain and fix something different and the whining and wailing begins. Shelley makes them eat it anyway but it just wears me down.

I has taken me 7 months to put my supplies from my studio back to some semblance of order so that I can get back to what I (not just want, not just need, not just desire) must do for my sanity and well being. I am a creator, maker, crafter, designer, person with a soul that craves doing and I have been in "can't find the shit I need" prison. 

And funny thing is, if I hadn't been put into this situation and had so much frustration and anger, I wouldn't have blogged and wouldn't have met each one of you precious lovelies.

So if I get the lesson....the universe speaks to me and says, see what I have brought you, closer (probably than you think you can endure) to your family, new friends to interact with and cherish and a new view of how you can manage if you have to. Blessings and blessings.

If I am drowning now it is in love and hope and I will take this OPPORTUNITY  as it is presented and get on down the road.

BTW: I finished cleaning, organizing and coveting all my "stuff" as of 3 pm yesterday.....I wonder what excuse I can come up with now.

Welcome to the dark side

This reminds me of how kids have secret clubhouses and handshakes.

With the encouragement of so many of you, I realized that I am a very fortunate lady that no one took offense and ran screaming into the night or worse yet nailed me on my "life" posts.

Also with wise words dispensed to me, I know that I need to be real. Sometimes that comes with a harder edge than I wanted to have on OBNSS. I do want to use that blog for launching some of my work and I don't think you can mix metaphors for a total audience, if you will. Thus this hidey hole place to say what I need to, to those of you how want to hear it.

So, naughty Oma Linda will still be rocking on with her bad self as an Olde Bag but Linda Sybil will do the bitch and moan shuffle here.

Gawd, have I confused anyone else but me?????????????