Why do I feel such a strong urge to start this blog? Why would I even think about going from telling 2 or 3 people in my lifetime about my deepest darkest life moments to telling so many that know me and also lots of complete strangers? 👀 😬 I’m struggling with this one a lot right now. Two years now of long overdue personal counseling, group meetings, purposely reconnecting my true and deep friendships. Things I’ve buried so deep really are starting to come into a whole new light now,…..It really wasn’t my fault! I really don’t have to live ashamed, embarrassed, and “less than” others. God help me find the words here to share but also to show that you have me still here for a reason, and this just might be a big part of it right here,…..This little snipit might help explain why I’m ridiculouly passionate about being kind and loving to everyone, no matter what! No excuses, no execptions. Yes, keep common sense/street smarts active, but remember everyday that we are all children of God. We are all someones son or daughter. We all do have a purpose and a reason for still being here.

I’m naturally hard wired as an introvert, sure I can be high functioning when it’s needed, but in my case it was needed almost regularly for the past 30 years. So about 2 years ago my body decided it was done being pulled ahead by my stubborn mind alone. That nice outing for a really good friend who was moving out of state. Nice restaurant setting, beautiful evening, a formal goodbye,…and what may or not have been a seizure hit me. I fell out of my chair smashing the right side of my head on the concrete patio floor. Ambulance, sirens, lights, confusion, tears of embarrassment all happening at once.

I’d already been trying to ignore and push through the last 20 years of chronic back pain, burning 24/7 pain. Well, my body officially started shutting down. So my counselor has informed me that “the body keeps track” and it won’t keep going if it just can’t. So that happened. I have a handful of people that know me from childhood, know my family, and the dysfunctional preteen events that changed my course forever. If my hope and faith hadn’t already been so strong around age 10-12 I know I would have become a statistic. As it was I had numerous situations that I almost didn’t make it out of alive.

Not to drag on and on,….but to give you a glimpse, only kid here with parents who were first generation college graduates. Unfortunately my dad’s 4 yr degree from a Bible college was found to be unaccredited when he went looking for that teaching job. He was devastated, but that was the 1970s and bible college credentials were a little tricky. He was already a bomb waiting to explode after surviving his own childhood with 7 siblings, and a hardworking, but alcoholic father who beat the boys especially pretty regularly. My dad was the “runt of the litter”, the little guy. He learned early on to hide anywhere he could to avoid getting thrown down the stairs headfirst, or smacked around. Alcohol was definitely no friend of this Irish Catholic family. From the genealogy work I’ve been doing I have a feeling my grandpa was possibly abused from an alcoholic father too. Generational abuse. 😔

No excuses, because I don’t believe it holding on to them, but my dad was a mess. He became addicted to other things that resulted in him having constant temper outbursts, throwing furniture, tipping chairs over, stomping and scaring everyone in site. Mom, my sweet sweet Pilgrim Holiness child of a minister mom. She didn’t know how to deal with him but didn’t believe in divorce, that was against God’s rules no matter what.

Well, I basically looked like a character off the “Little House on the Prairie show”, ☀️🧺🧸 a favorite childhood book series by the way. In our strict religion women could not cut their hair, wore long modest dresses, no tv, no jewelry, barely any association with those outside the church. My mental mix up was getting sent to public school in 2nd grade, huge awakening!!! Holy Moly! I looked like a Mennonite kid trying to fit it in with peers wearing Jordache jeans and really big combs in their back pockets. Not a great experience. But I tried to be as open and friendly as I could,…every kid wants friends and to be accepted.

All good and well until I started dreaming that an angel was coming into my bedroom at night! I was always asleep and all I ever remember seeing was all white, so it had to be an angel, right? Long story short, it definitely wasn’t and when I finally had proof I ran crying to my mom, a couple of years later,…..she didn’t believe me. I was 10, or maybe 12,….this is when my mind started blocking out memories. I’ve lost a lot of them. She picked his side. She didn’t know what else to do. The other adults in our church met but nothing came of it. No intervention, no help. I was devastated and beyond confused.

Lets just say ages 12/13-18 became a blur. There was definitely no parental control over me anymore, but thankfully I was a good kid. I had been raised in the church and had already developed a strong sense of what is right and wrong. I knew about forgiveness, love, grace,….And God had planted a crazy strong sense of survival in me. I knew no matter what, I was going to make it out. I was going to college, I was going to have my own kids someday and break this family curse of abuse. Can’t glorify myself too much here. I went from high honor roll all through school to drinking almost every weekend, age 14 or so. Grades dropped, hung out with people I shouldn’t have, went to the school dance drunk and smashed my head down on the sink which led to crazy bleeding. And then,….suspension, and kicked off my only stress relieving outlet, the drill team. So much more happened then too,…parents ripped me out of my high school in 10th grade, moved me to my grandma’s house over a 1000 miles away. People growing drugs around her house,….craziness! Thankfully, I had enough common sense and made it through it all without doing too much damage.

Mom passed away young with cancer. 😔Thankfully, we had reconnected and had grown back together into a loving relationship. I don’t blame her for anything. She had been a very sheltered Holiness preacher’s daughter who was really in way over her head with my dad and his issues. She always loved me though and I knew that. She apologized on her death bed to me. Oh I can’t even describe our tight hug and tears, and how we just didn’t want to let go of each other. ❤️ She passed away a few days later.

Why am I writing this? Well, I’m learning to really heal, to really forgive (but not forget). And to really be able to move into what my healthy life was supposed to be, I have to get all this junk out. And what better way than to just tell everyone! It’s time. My kids are almost grown and they’ve just now learned about my past. They met my dad for the first time early this year in his assisted living home (he had a major stroke a couple of years ago). To really really break these abusive family chains, all my praying made it clear that the kids didn’t need these specifics until they were older and able to see it from a young adult perspective.

Abuse is no joke, no matter what kind. It put me in so many pit holes, so many near suicidal moments, almost drinking my teenage self to death many times. Thank God for my foundation of faith, and the friends who loved me like family always there protecting and loving me. (you all know who you are).

Love and peace. Life’s too short for any other approach than honestly reaching out and being there for others. You have no idea what someone has been through. Kindness does make all the difference in a life. One of Robin Williams quotes that hit me so hard when I first read it, and will always be one of my very favorite. I know from experience, and believe me, I laugh all the time (not always appropriate but better than what else might come flying out my mouth!) Robin Williams was right on when he pointed out that those who often try to make others happy can be the ones in the most pain.

Thanks for being here with me. I promise I’m not going to dwell on sad stories too much on here. I just wanted to get it out there, and move forward. Our backgrounds really do mold us in ways that can be hard for others to understand. And I know I’m definitely not alone in stories like these. I’m ready to “adult it” over here, spill it out so I can really heal. I’m already seeing God’s getting after me (especially the past few months) about staying so quiet all these years in times when I shouldn’t have. He actually gave me a pretty strong voice, an introverted version,…but it’s definitely there. ✨✅ If I can’t get the verbal words out,…well, at least now I have a place to put them in writing.

#recovery #abuse #forgiveness