Chapter 12

Keeping a journal, or in this case, a blog is completely about being honest.  When I was a little girl and I wrote things down in my "diary" I did so with the thought in mind that no one would ever read the secrets that filled the pages of my special book.  I suppose it is a little different with a blog.  The public can read what I type here, and although I am 90% sure that I am comfortable with that fact, I still know that there are some who may read what I write and choose to pass judgement.  To those people I am truly sorry if you feel the need to judge my actions and behavior, but writing is extremely therapeutic for me, so as long I feel the need to voice my opinion in order to help me move on and stay positive I will continue to write for me and my girls.

Going out on a limb here and making a bold statement that has recently come to light in my mind very strongly.  I do not trust men.  I wish that I did.  I wish that I had a better feeling when I was around them.  It's difficult to explain...it really is, but my anxieties rise through the roof something terrible when I am around men.  My Father was a wonderful example to me.  We weren't emotionally close.  He grew up in the depression, and didn't really speak very often, but there was a reverence about him.  At least to me, the youngest, I knew for certain that he loved me and that he always had my best interest at heart.  I have four brothers.  Again, our age span is so great that we didn't really know each other very well.  I have somewhat of a relationship with three of them now.  My one brother lives out of state, and has done since I was 18.  There is such a generation gap between us all that even though I love them dearly I do not feel close to them.  

I felt differently about my husband when I first met him.  He was someone I could talk to.  We could talk together for hours, and it really didn't matter what the subject was.  Just the fact that we talked and got along was wonderful to me.  Looking back now however, I see how this was more like a friendship rather than a romance, but I enjoyed being around him and spending time in his company.  After our marriage and time passed, this trust began to dimmer.  I  no longer felt a sense of "ease" in his presence but my heart would begin to race when I knew it was time for him to come home from work.  When I say it would race, it wasn't in a good way.  I hurried to make the house look perfect, make myself look beautiful, and make sure that from the time he came through the door all my attention was focused on him and "his" day.  

Time has passed and my heart has done a lot of healing as well as forgiving, however I am finding that there is still much I need to forgive.  Not every man wants something "more" than what he expresses, and not every man wishes to use me for something.  However on the few dates that I have been on over the last several years I can't help but sink into a restaurant booth and thinking to myself. "What does this man REALLY want."  Why is he really telling me I'm attractive?  What other motives does he have?  It makes me extremely nervous when a man pays me a compliment.  Especially one about my appearance.  Immediately I begin to wonder what he feels I "owe" him, or what other things does this person have in mind.  I question his job, his integrity, finances, love of children, and above all....I begin to question, "What in the world does this man want from me?"  I have been fooled in the past by a fast talker and I refuse to let those strong brick walls down just to let my heart crumble again.  

Rape is a strong and harsh word.  It's kind of one of those words that you whisper while out in public.  Like if you say it quiet enough it didn't really happen.  I read recently that one in every three women will be raped in their lifetime.  One in every three women will also experience cancer.  Women have some pretty crappy odds.  Being a victim of rape is something that I'm not sure you ever get over.  The flashbacks, the questions, and the alternative scenarios which play out in the heads of victims don't ever really go away.  The only way to deal with rape is to talk about it, however there is shame, remorse, and disbelief that "you really didn't do anything wrong" stays with you.  Many times just after my second daughter was born I can recall waking with a strong headache.  I always assumed it was because I was no getting enough sleep with a new baby.  I believe that I have always been a bit of an early sleeper.  Having two little kids you learn to sleep when they go to be, so many nights I remember being fast asleep by 9 o'clock.  Since my ex would rarely get home before 7 or 8 at night he was always so good to make me a diet coke filled to the brim of the glass with lots of ice.  It was a nightly routine for me.  I loved carrying it in front of the tv and relaxing until I would head up to bed.  However some nights sleep were often more disturbed than others.  I would wake around 4 to feed the baby with the most awful headaches.  Not only did my head pound, but I would find my pajamas strung across the floor of our bedroom.  This wasn't something every night so naturally I assumed that I had gotten hot during the night and taken them off while sleeping.  

This went on for several months.  Again, not every night, but it began to happen often enough that I just started sleeping only in garments.  Even after this began things weren't right.  Clothes weren't on so that I felt dressed completely.  I noticed a few times bruises.  I made excuses that they must have come from the gym.  I did work out, and I did bruise easily.  This is not easy for me to talk about.  As I sit here I even wonder whether or not I want to type.  Sometimes it's easier to stuff memories and feelings back so you don't remember them.  So many things I remember, but it has taken years to get those memories back.  Once they're back I do nothing but wish they'd go away.  

In my first apartment where I lived with my girls they were very young.  Ellie was 4 and Olivia was only 16 months.  It was here where my mind began to piece things together.  Flashbacks began to come so strongly.  Flashbacks when I would look at a certain picture on my bedroom wall.  I woke up so many nights with faces staring at me.  They were faces of men I did not know.  I could hear laughter.  I could hear jokes.  I could feel pressure, and I could see myself there.  The only way I know how to describe these times is this.....I found these words written down in a journal from this time and I think it describes it well.

"Woke up completely drenched in sweat again tonight.  It's 4:06 on the clock and both girls are here in my bed.  My chest is pounding so hard I can hear it in my ears.  I have got to get rid of that candle holder on the wall tomorrow.  It's in my nightmare and the wax keeps dripping off of it in my dreams.  I hear Drew in my dream.  His face is close to mine and he's laughing at me.  My ankles feel like they want to kick but they are tied with something.  It's an awful horrifying dream.  I keep looking at our closet.  I feel eyes watching me, and I scream out to those eyes but nobody comes.  Pretty soon my arms are held down and I'm in pain.  It's a nightmare!!! I know there are people there besides me and Drew, but they stand at the end of my bed and do nothing.  I don't know....I feel sick to my stomach.  These nightmares keep happening over and over."

Only a few weeks after this experience I was able to grasp a firm grip on what had happened to me over several years.  The details of this are still so difficult for me to talk about.  I really am trying to deal with the evil that lies in mankind.  However, there is so much good that also lies in those people on earth.  I try hard to make that my focus and strive to become stronger.  I would much rather laugh than cry, however I am a firm believer that crying is necessary at times.  When I cry into my pillow (which I have done often) I always offer prayer, and I KNOW without a doubt that my Heavenly Father hears those prayers.  I feel arms wrapped around me.  As I continue to work on trusting men in my daily life, I remind myself often that there are wonderful men in my family who are great examples of goodness.  It is something I am working on.  I don't want to spend the rest of my life alone and bitter at every male I meet.  I want and wish to find love again one day.  If I don't here in this life, than I know I will in the next life.  I believe more than ever my Heavenly Father is in control of that area of my life.  I'm honest enough to know that I'm not ready to give my heart away just yet, but perhaps in the future I'll be ready to try again to give it to someone special.

Chapter 11

Well we can't really be human unless we experience ALL emotions.  Not just the good ones.  Today I am a little saddened, and my heart feels a little heavy.  Mostly these deep feelings are nothing more than selfish tangents.  Feelings that only take into play my own thoughts, self happiness, and overall... "but what about what's best for me?" questions.  Many people know that I came into the world as a "little surprise."  Well ok, surprise, accident, fibroid growth...whatever you want to call it.  My mom was 47 when she realized that she wasn't actually going through menopause, but in fact she was four months pregnant with a baby.  A fourteen year age difference between he youngest son and myself.  As a matter of fact her second son, Bob, was graduating BYU with a wife of his own, and a baby on the way!  My niece, who would come to earth three weeks ahead of me, making the oldest grandchild of Bruce and Lynn Passey older than their youngest child.  Only in Utah right??

So fast forward several years until today.  My sweet mother is a ripe age of 82.  I love her wisdom.  I still call her everyday.  She is my sounding board when I need to vent, and my arms of love when I need to cry.  My dad passed away in 2009 just 7 months after I separated, and 6 months before I was diagnosed HIV positive.  I am absolutely convinced that the Lord took him home when he needed to.  His passing was sudden, but he went quickly and didn't suffer.  Events such as death of a parent are extremely surreal.  To me it's like I was outside my own body.  I could see myself at the hospital, sitting by my father at his bedside, and even holding his hand; however, it doesn't seem as though things are really happening.  It seems as though it's an awful dream.  A nightmare, in fact, where I will wake up any second and realize that my dad has not died.  He is still as strong as ever.  One minute you're talking about cancer treatment, then death, then the funeral, obituary, etc.  It seems like time passes but at the same time it's standing still.  One minute I'm talking to my dad as he's helping me shovel my driveway, then the next I'm holding his hand as the ventilator stops.  I understand that death is natural, necessary, and even at times the best thing, but what about us left behind??  My mom is in basically good health.  Today I saw her extremely tired however, and it struck me.  She had been wrapping all her families Christmas presents.  She was so tired.  As I listened to her explain that her fingers didn't move as they used to, her arms were tired from wrapping and lifting gifts, and her vocal worries about whether or not her family really even cared whether or not she gave them presents I became overcome.  This woman, my "other", seemed exhausted.  For several moments I wondered if her grandchildren, children, and great grand children really knew how much she was concerned for their happiness at Christmas?  She really thinks about each and every person in her family, and she wants nothing more than the best present for each member.  I saw what it does to her physically, mentally, and emotionally, and for several minutes I thought, "is this worth it?"  I realized for the first time today I didn't know exactly how much time I would have my sweet mommy.  Yes, she is in basically good health.  Her heart is strong, her lungs are strong, and her mind is still there.  For these things I count my blessings, but she looked so tired today.  I have seen that kind of tired before.  In fact, I will go as far as to say I have been that tired before, and it's a scary thing.

I am feeling selfish tonight, and if I can be honest a little angry.  I miss having a partner.  My mom is a wonderful person.  She really is.  She is my best friend, and without a doubt the person I go to whenever I have news to share.  Good news, bad, exciting, or sad.  She is the first phone call I make to talk about my day.  Being 14 years apart from my next sibling I do not have close relationships with my  brothers or my sister.  I cannot call them and vent to them about my day.  Mainly because they have their own kids (who are my own generation) and they are the sounding boards for their own children. we just seem to have nothing in common.  Our interests are different.  There is a generation gap between my siblings and I, and although I love them dearly there will always be this bridge between us that is just difficult to cross.  My siblings, many of them, have a spouse that is their sounding board.  That person is their "other."  You know, the one you go to when you've had a bad day, or maybe it's a good day.  Someone to share inside jokes with.  Someone to rant and rave at.  Someone that will just listen when you need to cry.  For me, at least the last several years has been my mother.  I worry about when she is gone.  I hope that loneliness will not overcome me.  For I do not have someone to talk to at night.  I don't have that partner to help me with dinner, homework, baths, or all other duties that a family has.  To be quite frank....I do not want a man around right now.  I can think of a couple reasons why I would like to be married, but none of those reasons are healthy so for now I guess I continue on single.  I miss the help with the family, but I have been so scorned that I don't feel that my trust radar is anywhere near on target yet.  That will take some serious time.  Time that I can't put a limit on.

I often worry about how much I take for granted.  Time is number one on my list of things most precious.  Don't ever take time for granted.  Don't put off until tomorrow what can be done today.  I would like to add to that saying.  Don't put off until tomorrow what can be done or said today.  Tell those around you how much you love them.  Make sure they know it.  Make sure that you hug longer and more often.  Don't be ashamed or worried that you might look like a fool by expressing your feelings out loud or to someone you love.  Time is not something to take for granted.  In a moment things can be different.  People you love can be gone and it will be too late to say what you need to say.  Forgive!!!! For goodness sake....are you perfect????  If we were perfect, at least in my opinion, we would not be on this earth anymore.  We would be taken back up to heaven to live with our Savior.  So, when someone wrongs you, hurts you, makes you sad, angry, or upset....no matter how hard it is.... try to work on a way to forgive them and move on.  If you have not walked in someone else's shoes are you truly able to pass judgement on them??  Be a peacemaker, and say "I'm sorry" much more often than you already do.  Don't worry about things that are out of your control.  Control the things that you can change.  Yes, I will be the first to admit that I am a bit selfish in saying that I wish I had a mother who was 52 instead of 82.  I wish my dad were still alive.  I wish my siblings were closer in my age; that we could raise our children together instead of a generation apart.  I wish my nieces and nephews lived closer.  I wish, I wish, I wish.......but my mother knows how much I love her.  I've told her.  I tell her often.  My dad knew before he died that I was grateful to him for life.  I was thankful he showed me how to pay it forward and press on even in hard times.  I am thankful for forgiveness.  Both given to me and forgiveness I have given.  I tell my friend often that I love them.  That I am thankful for them in my life.  I hope that I never put off something I can say today.  I love you mom!