The Affect of Abuse, Subtle

Abuse, abuse implies that someone with power misuses that power, moreover that it has an effect on other people.

I grew up in a home that was for the most part a good home, yet in subtle way's abuse touched our lives. I've not liked to talk about it, or else if I have I have dumped out the tumult of mixed feelings and messages leading to confusion about what I'm talking about.

Our family has a difficult time with communication. If there is a touchy subject we tip toe around it and suffer our burdens in silence. This is a large contributor I believe to unresolved pain that has filtered through from past generations, my parents, to my generation.

We've been told that our Grandpa D was a truck driver, that he would come home infrequently, drunk and angry. That he would line up the kids and smack their backsides with a belt. We've been told about my mothers brothers, how they tormented and tortured her. I know that Grandma D died from a horrific accident, that she was hit by a drunk driver. I know all of this, I know my mother walked the streets for miles trying to get over the accident... honestly though I think that sometimes she functions, but is not over what has happened to her. So my mother has carried these burdens into life as a mother and they in turn affected us.

My father, his father was an alcoholic. He returned from WWII with deep scars and a few jagged pieces of shrapnel in his hip. In a lot of ways he withdrew from life, in other ways he was a straightforward man who worked hard to provide for his family and he loved his wife, my Grandma C very much. My fathers life was filled with subtle abuse, anger and railings, bits of discouragement, snippets of cutting statements that undermined his belief in himself. My dad rebelled against these things, hung out with some low types for a while, drove a motorcycle (gasp). Then he turned his life around, gained a testimony of the gospel and went on a mission. When he returned from that mission he found that he had effected his dad and that Grandpa C wanted to be baptized.

The subtle abuses my dad suffered were brought into our lives through the anger that he would let loose upon us at times. I still remember that my dad broke my toy broom and threw it down the stairs, I was four at the time.

The subtle abuses created a home for us where our physical needs were cared for, but where chaos reigned at times because the lines of communication seemed to be permanently down between mom and dad. If dad got over angry, mom would withdraw into herself. Mom spent a lot of time reading, to me it seemed like she was gone a lot...

Dad railed the most on my little brother Daniel, though my older brother Jonathan received some. Jono is autistic so escaped comments about being stupid.

I subtly hid

At school I hid, I was picked on so I would try to hide and blend in. School was not fun for me.

Academics were characterized by struggle. In third grade I was put into the lower of two math classes and there were girls that liked to cheat off of my homework. I dealt with this by staying home and doing all of the homework in the book, turning it in and asking to be put in the greater class. Unfortunately I wasn't really ready for that class. Math was a swirling blur of incomprehension that carried through to college. In high school I was inadvertently put into an algebra class that was to hard for me. Dad didn't want me to transfer out of it but to push through. I remember studying with him many nights and I still didn't get what he was saying, I just couldn't do it. I felt like such a failure when I dumped the class and went to an easier one. Then I was so ashamed that I didn't like going to class, I didn't learn much in that class either. My cousin and I would ask my dad for help and he would explain things in so much detail that we would get lost and end up crying.

I got my share of that when trying to explain Math  to my 9 year old. Now I understand that he was frustrated as well... then... we just thought he was mean.

In my marriage, abuse was subtle as well. I was 16 when I got married, I was far too young. He was angry on our wedding night because he wanted to play basketball with his cousins, not go on a honeymoon.

He was unfaithful to me, I didn't understand. His family sent him back to Tonga, I spent a grueling amount of time getting him back. Then when he came he was a curse and a blessing. He worked hard, but he would get angry with our kids. There were so many sessions where he hit them and I didn't know what to do...

All of these things have worked to undermine my own sense of self and my own determination. It is hard to stand up, now that I've divorced my husband and all of those previous episodes have dimmed, in order to walk firmly with resolution into the future.

That's what I must do though. I've had my bouts with math, went back to the beginning to try to conquer it, even now it is affecting me as I need to prepare to take the GMAT but don't feel up to it. Battle with math again? or fight a different fight? That's the question that is looming on my horizon...

In any case, I want to be proactive about my emotions. I don't want to minimize and not deal with my emotions, but I don't want to play the victims role. I want the psychological traumas to simply go away...

Accident By The House

I just got freaked out! My daughter and her friend said they were going to the store 2 1/2 hours ago... I figured they had gone up to the church but decided to check so looked out the window. There were about 4 cop cars an ambulance and a horrific accident across the street! So I got on my shoes and coat and went out to see if I could find them amongst the crowds then remembered her friend had a cell phone and found they were up at the church... That's a little too much adrenaline for me for the night...

A Story made with Ajey

Once upon a time there was a tiny little frog, so small that he feared that he would be squashed by a passing toad. All of a sudden he spied a snails shell and decided to use it for shelter...

To get to the shelter, he had to pass through the maze made of maize that were helter-skelter. He looked up and he saw his good old friend Mighty Moth flying carefree. He called onto him...  

"Mighty Moth, the shell, can you bring me to the shell!?" Mighty Moth looked down to see who had called his name and accidentally ran into a corn stalk, as he fell he yelled "bombs away!" then he landed in a heap right in front of tiny frog. Tiny frogs heart was ribbiting a million miles a minute, carefully he lifted one of Mighty Moths wings...

The fall of the Mighty Moth made the frog all the more nervous. Before taking his last breath, he gave the frog a bracelet made of aluminum foil. It was called the "doosie-doo" and had magical power. The bracelet had the power to make the one wearing it become invisible but only in the sunniest of time in the sunflower fields. But, to get to it, he had to answer three hair-raising questions.

First of all, you must know your hearts desire, secondly the secret of walking on fire, and last of all you will be asked the name of the first person you ever liked...

The frog thought and with time running out of his hands, he answered, his desire was to get to the shell so that he can live on. He then revealed the secret of walking on fire was to walk barefoot on it and sing "London bridge is falling down" out aloud and he revealed the first person he liked was Chamelia, the queen of chameleons.

Alas the reminder of queen Chamelia set him to crying over his long lost love, he became even more determined to attain the shell of his dreams, perhaps Chamelia would join him there. Now that he had his "Doosie-Doo" he felt that he would have the strength to make it to his shell...

With a yukalaylee in his hand the frog sang a song in his memory of Chamelia. He grew stronger. He knew it would take a lifetime to reach her but he knew it was possible. And, so, he was more determined to reach the shell. He wore the doosie-doo to be invisible to the toad and he carefully hopped between the grass, upon the leaves, across the streams of water to finally reach the shell. He knocked on the shell. And, he heard a strong voice speak to him from the inside of the shell.

Support the Fight against Childhood Abuse

My sweetheart Ajey has posted about his lecturers efforts to raise funds against the exploitation and abuse of children, here is a link. The Odds are Good, But the Goods are Odd

If this is a magic machine, then my daddy will come back...

What do you say to your four year old who hopes that by copying a picture of her daddy that he will magically come back?

The most difficult part of all of this is that my four year old doesn't understand where her daddy is or why he's not at home. Frankly, I don't understand why he cannot be a part of our lives. I know the what and the logical why, but I don't understand what possessed him to make the choices that he did which drove such a huge wedge into our family.

It's been such a lovely day today, the weather so mild, and I've gotten so much done to organize my files that I would usually feel happy and hopeful. In past years I would have felt renewed hope that things would be looking up for us, that finally Sam and I would be able to work together as a team, earn money during the summer, get a home... and get lots and lots done, be successful...

It's all gone, I feel so blank

I would run to him and grasp his hand, tell him that I want to work on our family... but I can't and won't. He hurt me, and our kids, in a bumbling stupid way and even if I could be dragged into feeling sorry for him again it still wouldn't take away the facts. Could he even get on his knees to beg forgiveness to allow a new start? No because he hurt me even as little as a month ago...

I'm so sad though, it is so hard to be strong. I don't know what I'm doing, and the corporate world is harsh. I did well in Accounting, but only through a lot of struggle and study and I'm afraid to get another job doing accounting because the last job that I had required so many hours from me and I didn't have a mentor, they expected me to know everything right then, no exceptions. I wasn't stupid, but I struggled because I hadn't worked before and I got into a position that I wasn't prepared for... but I was so close.

That's off my chest... I'm going to make popcorn and a smoothie for my princess.

Confessional Time

Yes I admit it, I must stare it in the face and admit it, I get jealous far too easily. I don't know what it is, insecurity perhaps? That's got to be it. Usually I don't feel threatened if it's a topic that I am well versed on or something that I am good at, then I am more likely to be conversant with a person about it, but otherwise I am jealous and it is not a good thing. It gets me deep into an unhealthy type of pride and self defensiveness and geez how can I learn if I do that?

In fact I get paralyzed by jealousy, I see that someone did something better than I have or can do something I can't and I go into a ridiculous self sabotaging rant in my mind about how I could have/should have/would have done whatever it is better.  

Anyhow, now you all know, I'm a jealous puppy... sorry about that, I'll work on it.

Some Happiness, Some Sadness

I don't know why I don't write more when I'm having really good days. I've had quite a few this week actually, the highlights of which were when I went over to my friend Lindas house to do pre-school with Roxie and her little ones as well as her sisters who Skype and join in. Somewhere in the midst of singing about fishies in the sea and creating a diorama of the ocean I felt joy, really peaceful and happy joy! :)

Another time that I felt joy was yesterday at Lindas house again as we read Tennysons poetry with our friends and discussed other things as well.

Other times that I feel joy are when I lie down with my four year old and watch a movie, or when my kids are having a discussion about random subjects in the car.

I desire to be happy, I want others to be happy, unfortunately that doesn't always happen.

I have a self effacing type of personality, it feels as though I slowly allow little pieces of me to be torn away. I just can't seem to get a grasp of my own wishes enough to look after my own best interests.

I've got a stomach ache.

I'm Scared

I've been living in a state of denial since I left Pinnacle. Somehow we made it through Christmas, my dearest friend helped me through my kids received presents.

It is ironic that so many of our Christmases have depended upon the generosity of others, Christmas has always been a struggle for my little family even back to the beginning.

We were so poor, I had hope for the future though and a plan to work hard and go to school so I didn't mind much.

I don't remember much about the first Christmas that I had with my husband, I was still a child, still in the same room that I had grown up in, I think I felt disappointed in the fact that I received so little in presents but it makes sense to me now. I was so ignorant about how the world really was, and could I be taught easily, no, it took a long time.

The next Christmas was spent apart from him, I spent my days in a stupor barely able to get to work, hardly able to take care of my oldest son. I was pregnant with my second child and had been betrayed by my husband and his family. They took him away to Tonga before I knew what to do and I spent the next nine + months trying to get him back. I was so lonely and lost, I really didn't know what to do, I wish I would have had some guidance then, I wish I had it now.

The next Christmas he was here. We lived in a little two room apartment furnished with cast off couches that I had sewn together, a table that I had bought on layaway and paid off and a $30 dollar dish cupboard that I kept my prized "Blue Willow" patterned dishes that I had saved up for and bought a bit at a time from the store that I worked at. That year I learned that God listens, even if he doesn't make your trials go away. I made a list of things that I needed, a washer, a dryer, a toy chest for the kids, and wooden shoes. My Uncle called up and told me that he was cleaning out his basement and getting a new washer, he wondered if I would like to have it. I told him that I would and we went there to get it with my dad, we got looking through the stuff in my uncles basement and stumbled across a toy chest for the kids, an old tent, and under some other things a pair of wooden shoes with leather on top. I wore those shoes all winter even though they had little bits of wood missing in the heel which I tried to remedy by filling them with wood glue. Soon after we got the washer, (which my dad and husband fixed up), my husbands brother offered us a dryer, so we had all that had been on my list.

But Christmas was coming and I didn't have anything for the kids. I bought stuff at yard sales and at the dollar store, they were little and didn't know the difference, but I also wanted to give them some wooden blocks. I looked for them everywhere and couldn't find any, I looked on-line and found that they were expensive, so I decided to make them out of two by fours. I had my Dad cut them up and I worked many hours sanding them down, then I decided to make some for a lady in the ward who was beat by her husband and spent many more hours sanding blocks. I used a hand held jig saw to cut out half circles in some of the blocks, that was really hard and they came out slightly wrong but I did it.

Somehow, when the kids got there presents and were happy I was grateful, a lot less stung by the fact that grownups get less presents.

Every year since then Christmas has been struggle and miracle. People have given us gifts on our doorstep, someone paid for our dinner one night as I went through the drive through, someone bought me a Christmas CD when they overheard me try to put it back because it cost too much money.

That's how life has been actually, struggle and miracle. I've had to pick up and start over with our finances so many times. I've paid off so many ridiculous debts, debts that I never would have incurred except for a fiscally irresponsible husband.

I find myself at this point in time at an odd crossroads. I'm divorced, something that I did not want though I knew it would probably come, I have four kids and no job.

On top of that... the pending imprisonment of my ex-husband for the crime that he committed against me on the 8th. That means no money coming in for child support. Now what am I going to do? That leaves me with small options, and I've not been thinking about it... but now I am.

Shopping Insanity

For someone who is known for their love of writing, I certainly do very little of it. I blame it on life in general, and the fact that writing comes in spurts for me.

I go through a painful process when I set out to write something related to my everyday thoughts and life. In my own mind I hear myself coming across as somewhat depressive, plus I tend to criticize myself... and my four year old comes in at the most inopportune moments to break off my train of thought and little niggling bits of guilt work their way into my stomach as I realize how little time I spend with her and how little time she has left as an adorable, demanding four year old.

Haha, she's upset because the "pink" hanger that she thought she had found turned out to be red. She just walked out and slammed the door with the exclamation "stupid red!" She's certainly my daughter, hehe, I loved pink when I was little.

I drove by the Provo Tabernacle today, they've set up a perimeter chain-link fence around the site, plus have covered certain areas with plastic and have set up reinforcing structures around the brick... I don't know what the plans are exactly for the site, but it looks like they are going to try and rebuild.

One of my great time wasters is lolling around in health food stores contemplating the products. I spent about 45 min at Good Earth in Provo this morning taking stock of the place and writing down prices for products that I like to buy. I was still in my PJ's (which consisted of athletic pants and t-shirt) plus I had boots and a winters jacket to top off my ensemble. I got a few looks from the clerks, to me the odd looks had me wondering if perhaps I should have dressed up... or perhaps they were simply not used to someone roaming around inspecting packages and writing down prices...

I then made my way over to Wal-Mart in Springville, I figured that since it had less traffic than the Orem Wally World that they might have some unique items, like the Organic canned green beans and corn that I was able to find at Wal-Mart before. I shouldn't have even bothered! They certainly didn't carry the Organic canned corn and greenbeans, I didn't find Organic crushed or diced tomatoes (for that matter the only Organic tomato products that they carried was a minuscule can of tomato paste and a few bottles of Organic spaghetti sauce). The spaghetti sauce did happen to be greatly cheaper than at Good Earth though so I picked up two that I wanted to try and a few gallons of white vinegar (excellent to clean with and a good laundry softener as well) and I hightailed it out of there.

Just to be sure that I was being fair to the Wonderful Walderific, Wal-Mart, I drove up to Orem and low and behold the oddity of chain stores, the products were there in amazing sameness lined up neatly in the same way so I rolled right back out of there again and off to SF Market.

Sunflower Market is a fantastic anomaly (did I use that word before in this write-up? I think that I did...)

Awww heck she wants to read Llamma Llama red pajama how am I supposed to ignore that?

anyway... I will write up about Sunflower later... ;)

Goodnight Blogger Land.

Beauty For Ashes

Traveling the winding dusty road, searching for beauty

all is ash and shadow

Life is bereft, shadows and ashes left

silent is the night, no peace is in sight 

all that is left are ashes