It was hard.

It was hard to see her like that.

It has been a long time since I saw her and seeing her brought back a flood of awful memories and tears.

Tears rolled down my cheeks

I was angry.

Again.

why?

I thought I was okay. I thought I was moving forward.

but seeing her again like that

brought me back to when I was an angry, angry teenager and I wanted to bury myself

into my obnoxiously loud music, scream into my pillow and escape. But escape where?

No matter where I go she’s there. she’s always there.

I feel like I will never be able to move on with my life until I completely cut her off.

But why?

Why do I have to feel like the bad guy?

All I am doing is trying to take care of myself. Better myself. Heal myself.

But I feel like the bad guy.

What is so wrong about trying to be healthy? Happy?

All my life she has tore me down. Called me the most horrific names and I am talking

horrific. Adults should never say those words, especially to their children. I don’t care

how intoxicated a person is they should never, ever call their children the names that my

mother has called me for almost my entire childhood, and adult life.

But it will always be hard to see her like that.

No matter the day.

The time.

Place.

I wrote the blog post above almost 3 years ago and couldn’t finish it. Thats how hard it was to see her that way. But thankfully I am in a much better place that I was then and have been able to move forward. For a long time I was stuck in the same place and I couldn’t seem to get past it. But I made it and everyday I work on getting better and better so that I can give my daughter and children the best possible life they deserve.

 

 

I can finally say…

I can finally say that I am…

Happy. 

Peaceful. 

Its quiet. 

So quiet, I can finally hear my thoughts, 

dreams, 

wishes, 

wants, 

and

hopes. 

Imagine that. 

All it took was 15 pages of paper. 

My signature.

A courtoom. 

Judge. 

Me. 

And then her. 

That was it.

Really?

That was it? Thats all?

Why didnt I think of this sooner?

Restraining orders a blessing in disguise. 

Maybe, just maybe I can finally start moving forward. Just maybe. Can it be possible?

Am I capable of living a normal life? 

Whats normal? 

I dont know. All I know is I am…

Comfortable.

Happy. 

Amazing. 

Happy
Happy.

 

 

Lets just say…

Lets just say its been a busy couple of months for me…

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Cute table runner I donated to Bethel Friends of Canine
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Fat quarter bag
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Fat quarter bag
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Fat quarter bag
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Fat quarter bag
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Scrap bag
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Rabbit lined mittens
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The school of fish
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Another table runner I donated to a family friend

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I am also now a proud owner of a sea otter pelt!
I am also now a proud owner of a sea otter pelt!

 

 

I have somewhat become addicted to sewing…. Its been a busy few months for me on the sewing machine, in the office, and at home dealing with home life.

My mother never fails to pop into my life when I least expect it, and when I welcome it the least. She has the worst timing. She manages to step into my life and stomp me further into the ground. Her drunken voice boils my blood. Her laughter makes me want to strangle her soul. Its amazing what one phone call can do to my well being. It brings me back to a damn spiral of anger and disgust. And in the moments what I wouldnt do to hurt her with all my might. But then I realize shes nothing to me. Shes been dead to me for years and I just need to let it go like a dead fly. Moments like those rotten phone calls remind me that I will never heal until she has left this earth for good.

Until then I just keep on kicking. Keep on breathing. Keep on moving.

Dark hopeless nights

The days are getting shorter.

Nights getting darker.

The air, is cool, crisp and eerie.

An overwhelming feeling takes over my soul.

Winter is approaching. Slowly, but surely it will be here.

And then what.

Where will she go?

How will she survive?

Shes homeless. And has been for over 20 years.

She lives off the land of booze, food stamps, and government hand outs.

She has no regrets. No ambitions. No desires in life

But

just to get that one more bottle.

One more sip.

Thats it.

All it takes is one, single drop that can ruin a

life

marriage

friendship

One drop. She chooses that one drop over her entire

family…

Once the bone chilling nights take over her being

Then what?

Will she become a statue frozen to the ground?

Will she fall asleep soundly and become a beautiful snow angel, forever…

Time will only tell

Until then I will hold my breathe

and

Wait for the long future nights of

sleeplessness

worry

anger

depression

Treading on thin ice

Frozen

not quite yet.

Ice crackles

Closer and closer.

Open water treading the frozen water pulls me down deeper and deeper wait.

She sees me wait. I can see it in her soft brown eyes I am no longer treading on thin ice.

I am engulfed in the river of madness

The river that openly takes souls left and right

Leaving behind warm hearts and loving bodies

But I am one of those many whose souls have been stolen.

Whose souls have been ripped out of life

I am no longer treading on thin ice

I am one of you.

lost among the riverbeds waiting to be found

My soul is lost.

Beautiful Bethel Kuskokwim
Beautiful Bethel Kuskokwim

Blessing in Disguise

Sleepless nights

Rude awakenings

Helpless cries

All blessings in disguise

You may argue

I will disagree

Without those late nights

And

Early mornings

I would be lost

I would be lost

Shattered

Broken

Maybe even gone.

Because of these blessings

I am strong

I am happy

And I am fulfilled

Full of life and happiness

My blessings are your nightmares but

Without them I would not be where I am today,

Happy

When dealing with my alcoholic mother poetry always soothed my soul.

Late nights with my mind wandering all over the place I found it comforting to put my thoughts into beautiful wording. If I made it beautiful maybe it would help? And it sure did.

Addiction is real. Addiction is real hard. And real sad. Its tough dealing with at 5 years old, and is still hard at 26. How do you move on? How do you not worry? Its impossible. As much as I want to not think of her. Worry about her. My mind always seems to wander back to her. Is she okay? Is she alive?

How do you handle it? What helps you? For me it seems openly talking about it, and writing about it. I know I am not the only one. I am sure there are hundreds. Millions. Out there that are in my same shoes. Speak up. You are not alone.

This is me jumping in Paris 5 years ago. A happy time for me.
This is me jumping in Paris 5 years ago. A happy time for me.

Unconditional Love

Unconditional Love. What is it? 

Oh yeah, its that love when you can say whatever you want, do whatever you, and treat people however you want and then tell them you love them unconditional. You can emotional, physically, and mentally abuse them and still say that you love them unconditionally. You can call them a bitch. You can threaten to  beat them up. You can say horrible awful things that will be implanted into their tiny little beings and still say you love them unconditionally. You can break personal belongings in their room. You can call them a hundred times in the middle of the night when they have school the next morning. You can barge into the house in the middle of the night hollering like a mad cow. You can use, abuse and manipulate tiny little beings. Fighting, cussing, hollering, and name-calling. 

But. 

You can say I love you unconditional despite what you called me the night before. What you did the night before that. What you did the week before that. What you did a year before that. What you did 10 years after that. 

No. 

I love you unconditionally so lets erase the past. Lets erase all that I have done and start fresh because its that easy. Its easy to forget that you called me an asshole, bitch, fucker, oh and tell me other things that mothers should never tell their daughters. Let me try and forget all that because you love me unconditionally. 

Unconditional love does not apply to the love that my mother. Unconditional love does not involve all the things that I have listed. It does not involve all the horrendous experiences I have had with her. 

I cringe at the sound of unconditional love. 

There is no such thing as unconditional love. You either love me. Or you dont. 

Dont treat me like a piece of trash, stomp on me, belittle me and make me feel like I wasnt adequate enough because you are nobody. You played no part in my upbringing. Loving unconditionally is not a thing.

So stop saying it. I never want to hear those 2 words, ever.

Never will I ever mutter those words to my children. To my friends. To my family. Unconditional love doesnt exist.