I am a old lady when it comes to bedtime. As soon as the sun hits the horizon, I start counting down the hours until I can pass out. Paxtynn goes to sleep at 7:30PM and Elianna is out by 8:30PM; this old lady, by 8:45//9:00PM. Every once in a while, this brain refuses to shut off; like tonight. Sometimes my brain is enlightened by something that I watch or experience before I lay down at night. Tonight, I think that it is a number of things, so I will just begin.
In the previous post, I mentioned that I have been on this earth for nearly 8800 days; which is true. I have lived and breathed the same air that most of you reading this have. So, now that we have found something in common, I am sure that you can relate to the rest of what I am about to put forth on to this spread sheet.
I am at the point in my life now that I can see myself changing once again. The way that I view life is different. Nearly all decisions I make are geared towards a different kind of success or passion. Who I see when I look in the mirror or protect out to the world, is different. I am allowing myself to change, while still grasping onto the things of my past with new understanding. I get scared when I cannot be certain of my future, but I try to remain confident with the comfort that God holds before me. And nights like these, I just place my hands into God's and dive into what he wants me to work on.
I suffer from personal insecurity. I have suffered from this, since I could first place recognition on a memory. I have fought effortlessly to become secure, but have only been torn down even more and I know that it was to keep people in my life.
My first major loss in my life was my mother. I grew up without knowing who she was or what her heart desired. I grew up only knowing what my father, step mother, or grandmother would tell me. The only reason I knew what she looked like was because of a photo that my grandmother had in my baby album after I was born. My dad hated my mother and my step mother always tore my mother to pieces. My grandmother had nothing good to say and when I would build up the courage to ask about her, she would shut down that conversation immediately. My curiosity would never give my heart a break. I wanted to know my mother and I wanted to believe that she was more than an abandon-er or the "town slut". I fought so hard to dream my mother into a hero of some sort. I dreamed that she was loving, caring, intelligent, and fun. I imagined that she was the best mother in the world and that she wanted me, her daughter; her blood; her living, breathing, child.
One of my first memories as child was of her...
I remember finding out that my step mother was not my real mother and feeling absolutely betrayed and angry. After the anger had past, I remember all of the anxious feelings inside of me and how they felt like butterflies. It was almost a relief to know that there was more to "me" out there; much more than what I had already. But, as days went by and I began to ask my family who my real mother was and what she was like, I started to break down. Nobody had any thing good to say about her and the more I asked, the deeper I dug, the more that people started treating me like I was her or like I would become like her. OR at least that is what it felt like to a 5 year old girl.
Anyways, I found out that they told me that my step mother was not my real mother because my real mother wanted visits; apparently she wanted to see me again and be a part of my life. Most of the beginning memories are blurry. I can just remember a white Monte Carlo that would pull into our driveway and that in that white Monte Carlo was my real mother.
Our visits always went fine. She would bring me gifts and pictures. She would play with me and tell me about her life. She brought her boyfriend from time to time, but I can't really remember anything significant about him except that he always wore a racing jacket.
Visits only lasted a few hours. All in all, she only visited consistently for a few weeks. The last time that I saw her, was only after a few weeks of meeting her. and then she just drove off. She left me. She left me at the end of my driveway, begging for her. Wanting her. Needing her. And then never seeing her again.
Being five years old and having to wipe your tears and turn around on your driveway and start walking was tough. I did not know that that moment would change my life forever. That moment would be the first moment where I would begin my plea in life to fight my ass off to be good enough for someone to want me. For someone to want to stay. For someone to want to keep me....and love me. ...and never leave me.
My second loss, was my big brother. Going back into the first few memories that I had in life, I had a tan, blonde headed big brother that was my partner in crime, my leader, my enemy, but then, my hero. My loss came during my father and step-mother's divorce. After all, he was her child and my step-brother; my father had no rights to keep him.
I felt like their divorce went fast (I can get into those specifics later). All of a sudden, one day, my big brother was there...and the next he was not. Where did my hero go? Where did the brave soldier that would keep the monsters in the hallway and in my closet away go? At night, before we would go to bed, my brother and I would have a code that we used to communicate by knocking on the walls. My brother and I were awesome. (Display picture here ---soon)
My brother never died, he simply moved. But once he was no longer in my house, he could no longer protect me and my life's light shut off and turned to black. I lived in the black for two years and most of us know enough background to know what resulted...foster care.
My personal insecurities developed for the worst while I bounced around the system. I could not help it but take it personally when a foster home gave their 14 day notice and I had to move. I could not help it but feel, once again, like I was not wanted, needed, loved, or worth anything. I tried my hardest to keep people in my life and believe their promises to never leave. It honestly started to feel like everyone would give up on me. When I found out that I would never return home, I promised myself that I would try even harder to be a better person; to be worth someones time. I wanted so badly to be in a family...forever. I wanted to be loved for all of my flaws and loved unconditionally. The system does not always allow that though. ...Stupid system.
The personal insecurities that I am reflecting on tonight are for a reason, if that makes sense. Finally, I am to a point in my life, where I am stepping back and revealing my humiliation and failures, so that I can began the process of overcoming them. No longer will I have to ask or think "what can I do to keep this person/thing in my life forever?" I will deal with the grief and loss as it comes naturally, but I will not let it hold me back from anything that is out there. I am becoming stronger and less insecure. Tonight I am feeling strong in my pasts' weaknesses. I know that it might only last a moment, but I know that that moment will become my next stepping stone and will only develop even more.
Good night world.
