So I write...for it is all I know how to do....

I cannot sit back and pretend to be shocked but what I have in essence "allowed" to happen to me, now can I?

I cannot pretend that I did not know how it would all come to a head or how hurt I would become?

I cannot pretend that I did not play my part in the decomposition of these relationships...nor can I pretend that I did not know how to avoid the whole mess entirely...

I allowed the treatment to not only start but to continue.  I allowed disrespect and disloyalty to become a "norm" in the way I allowed others to treat me.

I set a "low" bar when it came to myself.  I didn't hold myself in the light to which I should have.  I did not believe in myself, respect myself nor had the courage to admit that I was "good enough".  So tell me then, if I did not expect "me" to honor "me" than really, how could I expect that from anyone else?

I was so worried about being accepted that I allowed the fear of "isolation" mold me into ways that I did not want to be.

I was so worried about being loved that I allowed others to use me, lie to me, hurt me, and slowly sink any piece that was left of who I used to be, who I thought I wanted to become and Who I truly was, so deep inside myself that it lye buried there like a tomb of those who have been forgotten.

A tomb that I laid out the coffin for, a tomb that I picked out the headstone for....A tomb that would become my inner prison for almost 40 years....

I invited the guilt of feeling "second best", I invited the shame of being "unlovable", I invited the pain that soon followed from allowing "them" to rob me of all that I had the potential to become.

So I write...I wrote then and I still write...it is one of the only ways I know how to reconnect and be at one with myself.  The only way that I know how to unburden a lifetime of hurt and confusion.  I write...because that is all I know to do.

I have allowed others to question my ability to make decisions, to trust my judgment, and to essentially live my life...

I have allowed others to make me feel less than nothing, inadequate in all that I do and blinded to the possibilities...

I have allowed others to use my fears of being unloved and unwanted and unaccepted against me in such a way that it has made me "hardened" and "cold" and "distant".  I allowed them to use the things that scared me the worst to their advantage only because they knew the secret that I could not see then.

They knew that all this time...it was not really me...it was their own demons, their own inadequacies, their own inability to feel and be loved that caused their hatred and foul treatment of me.

You see, I was the child in some of these situations, I was a child yearning to have someone "catch me at the end of the slide", the child waiting "for someone to pick me up from school and ask and care about how my day went", I was the child who wanted to hold and be held all at the same time.  I was that child that you just for some reason could not "love" in the way that I begged to be loved.

I was that sister, the one who follows you around and drives you crazy asking "stupid" questions just so you would talk to her.  The sister that carried your books and cleaned your room just so you would give me ten minutes of your time.  I was that kid that wanted nothing more than to have you look at her and say "good job" and truly mean it and be there when I fell to pick me up and tell me "it was all going to be okay".

I was that mother, that didn't know how to do everything right.  The mother who was still learning and failing and was lost but loved you more than life itself.  I was that mother that could stare at you forever and be in awe that you came from me and that "forever" we would be connected by this force that no one could ever break....but it did crack and well "forever" seems like it ended a millennia ago, and here I sit, and here I write.

I have also been that friend...who longed to be accepted and emulated....the one who stood in the corner pretending to be what they wanted me to be so that I could say they are my friends.  I was that friend that gave until it hurt and lied to myself about what I got in return.  I was that friend who allowed the pain to consume her until she herself became the bad friend.

I do not write this to say that nothing ever good happened to me, or that nothing good came from those around me...I am not wiring so someone will feel bad for me or tell me how  horrible everyone else has been and that "they" will love me the way I am looking for, or they will be the one to make it all better.

I write because it is all I know how to do...all I know how to use to get through it all...It's all I know how to do to keep my sanity when the world is falling apart around me and all I hear are a thousand screams and realize they are all mine form deep down inside my soul.

I have always been afraid to just "say" things how I truly feel them, afraid I will hurt someone or that they will think less of me, or that if I said something in just the wrong way I could lose them all forever.  But then I realized that they already felt I was not good enough, they tell me it in a thousand different tongues...they already projected their hurt and their struggles on my shoulders to bear for them so they had a place to bury their blame...they already left me so long ago that I was too blind to see or perhaps too naive to realize it truly was no more.

the begging to be loved, the moments lying in wait for approval, acceptance and moments spent waiting to hear their pride in the things I did for them that I rouged under the name of myself.

the years I have lost wondering what have I done, why I wasn't good enough....why couldn't "you" just love "me"....so I write...because it is all I know how to do....to get through the pain...to escape into a reality that only I was to dwell in.

I write because it is all I now how to do....to fight the urge to give up...to fight the urge to give in....to escape the breaking sound of my own heart.

I allowed others to shape me, to mold me, to break me...I allowed others to dictate, to distract, to hate me...I allowed others to control me, contort me, revolt me...I have allowed others to break me, to leave me, to rape me....I have allowed others to leave my tattered soul on the side of the road without a drop to drink in my death of me...without a kind word to send me off or a tear to bury me with...I have allowed this and I cannot be shocked or dismayed...I can only be disappointed in myself that I alone allowed the death of me...I allowed myself to get so low that I forgot to "care" for me or "love" me or "believe" in me....I allowed myself to die at the hands of others and then realize those hands were my own....I allowed myself to be buried by their burdens, their unhappiness, their weakness...I allowed myself to be taken form myself and lose myself in all of this.

My grandmother told me "if it hurts that bad, then it isn't love...because love isn't supposed to feel like that"....these words are the wisest words that have ever been uttered.  Love isn't supposed to feel like that....love is patient - right?  patient for whom?  patient meaning being understanding and open and being "there" in that moment with someone....Love is kind - right?  how so?  kind meaning allowing others to grow and to flourish as you water the very foundation they are on and take pride in their ascent?  Love is  so many things and yet devoid of those things all at the same time....Love is never ending - but can be the end....

I cannot apologize for who my life has dictated I become, no more than a tree can apologize for decay and collapse that others have caused with their carelessness and ignorance.  I cannot be anything more that what God has intended me to be and I have to realize that "who" I was then, "who" I am today and "whom" I am to continue to grow into, is "good enough" for me...I cannot continue to let others dictate my happiness, my life nor my choices...just as I cannot continue to "blame' others for my downfalls, my misgivings nor my mistakes...I will no longer lend my good will, my good faith nor my heart to those that's intention is to bring about malice, harm or mistrust.

I will not feel their guilt as my own, nor will I thrust my guilt upon them.  I will learn to forgive them for their blind ignorance in their part of my tattered soul and begin to rebuild it on my own.  I will learn how to trust in my own actions and stand behind them "unapologetic".. I will learn how to love myself even when the "world" deems me unworthy.  I will learn how to say "no" and set limits...I will allow myself to be the gift, to feel the gift, to accept the gift that God has so graciously bestowed upon me - this gift he gave me of breath and body and soul.  I will no longer allow anger, hurt, pain and restless dwell in my kingdom or ravage my body.

I will no longer give them the power to create doubt and breed uncertainty into my very lungs.  I will no longer allow the abuse and misuse of my heart.

I cannot, so I write...because it is all I know how to do....it is the one place I find solace and peace...the one part that no one can take from me...the one place where I am brave and "they" don't preside over...and so I write - not for sympathy, not for praise...I write for sanity and release.

I write because it is all I know how to do....and the rest I have to let it lye by the side of the road with the shell of who I used to be....

I have left it there to remind "you" that with or without you by my side, in my corner...with or without you offering support or believing in me...I leave it there as a reminder that all this time I was courageous enough to ask the questions, to push the issue, to cry alone and to stand alone.  It was there all along, buried deep inside me and I leave that shell of me as a reminder that today, this very day, I decided that it was no longer okay to accept things as they are but to expect and deserve more for me.

Today I leave that by the side of the road, do what you will with it...but I cannot be afraid of what you think of me, of what your 'idea" of what is right and what is wrong to loom over me...Even if I end up standing alone, I can no longer allow you to deem it appropriate to have never really loved me and yet expect the world from me....

what will you leave behind?  maybe nothing at all?  maybe there will never be a day where I won't be on my journey alone...but that is something that I just can't worry about anymore.....

so I write.....because it all I know how to do and because it is my salvation and captor all at the same time...so I write....