Posts Tagged ‘health’

“I am your father.” His body language turned sinister as he stepped forward, gripping the back of an old wooden chair. “You’re in my house,” he said through clenched teeth. “You will respect me.”

She stepped back off the step and engaged him with a hostile sneer. “You have no idea what that word means,” she said. “Come down here,” she shouted up the stairwell to the child that hid. “I’ll help get you out.”

“Get out of my house … now.” His saw-like voice ripped through the small space of the living-room, shaking the frightened child inside her.

She swallowed. “I’m not leaving without her.”

“Oh. You’re leaving alright, if I hafta throw your crazy ass out a window.” He lurched forward, taking off after her.

Lu bounded up the steps, taking three at a time, and then turned right, skidding to a halt in a large room with yellow paneling, rust-red carpeting, and two canopy beds. She turned as her father ran for the door. She shut it within an inch of his face. The wood trembled and cracked as he attacked the door. She jerked backward. Terror struck and she dropped down, scrambling backward to hide under the bed.

“You think he’ll get in?” asked a little boy lying by her side.

Lu blinked again and again, her mind trying to figure out where he’d come from.

“Who are you?” she asked. “Is there anyone else here?”

“No. Just me. It’s always just me. My name’s Johnny,” he whispered his eyes fixated on the bedroom door.

Lu swallowed the lump in her throat. “What are you doing here, Johnny?”

He turned his head to look at her, his eyes punching confusion deep into her chest. “Same thing you’re doing.” He looked at her more closely. “You’re an adult,” he said making it a statement. “Adults don’t get scared. Adults don’t hide under beds.”

“No. Not under beds,” she said her voice trailing off. “But don’t worry. I’ll get you out of here.”

“You can’t,” Johnny broke down, his chest heaving with despair. “Only he can, but he’s forgotten why he chose this path.”

Lu, stunned by the sudden maturity strengthening his tone, waited until she realized he’d finished talking. Everyone had lectured her about her choices and about the paths she chose. Another coincidence. No. Coincidences didn’t exist. Mia had said so and she believed her. What did this mean? Who was this child? Possibly a psychotic break within a nervous breakdown? And then she noticed the thickness of his lips and two large front teeth, and a sickening heat clutched her stomach.

“I’m stuck here,” he said, sounding defeated.

“You can’t give up,” she mumbled toying with the notion that this was her father at a younger age. Tears pooled in the little boy’s eyes, releasing a new flood of guilt in Lu that washed away years of old anger, leaving her drained. It couldn’t be him. It just couldn’t. What did it mean if it was? Lu searched the little boy’s face, her examination spotting a mostly healed inch-long, red cut on his forehead. It was in the same place and the same size as the one on her father’s forehead.

“Did you answer the phone when I called before?” She didn’t want him to say yes. Saying yes would mean too much. Hearing yes would knock her off the high horse she’d proudly ridden hard for most of her life.

He nodded and poof, the last leg of her belief crumpled.

“I’ve got to get out of here.” She made it halfway out from under the bed when little boy-sized sneakers stopped her.

“You’re going to leave too?” he asked, bending down to look at her face. “What is wrong with me?” He sniffled, wiping his nose on the back of a hand.

“Nothing. Nothing is wrong with you.” And she meant it. At one point in her father’s life, he had been innocent—blissfully unaware of the cruelty that lurked beyond his awareness. Innocent like she’d once been. She scrambled the rest of the way out from under the bed and took his small hand.

She started when he jerked away from her. “Yes, there is!” he yelled, and then stamped to the door. “My mother hated me, my father couldn’t have cared less, and my brothers could do no wrong.”

“No————” Lu began, but the air thickened, choking the rest of what she wanted to say.

“Yes!” He screamed. “She let them hit me. Told them to.” He coughed. “Even after I was a man, my mother sent them to beat the crap out of me when she found out I visited an aunt she held a grudge against.”

“Wait … what?” Her thoughts warped and spun, spiraling down. “Who would do that?”

“You know who I am.” His voice deepened, smoothing out and becoming the voice she grew up hearing. “Don’t people react the same way to you when you tell our story? Your mother showed you love, gave you enough confidence to be independent, and that was not enough for you. Instead you followed in my footsteps.”

“Why do you hate me? Why did you cheat? What made you so angry all the time?” Her voice dipped and shrunk, no longer sounding like the strong woman she’d been just a few hours ago.

“You always asked me questions I didn’t want to answer. Or couldn’t.” He turned away, digging his tiny chin into his small chest. “A small portion of the truth would have made you hate me more. So, I lied. I couldn’t stop. What was the point of admitting I was too weak and damaged to change? Eventually, I believed the lies myself.”

No longer seeing the whimpering little boy, Lu forced the words building at the back of her throat though her lips. “You lied to keep doing it. You protected yourself. You blamed mom. You blamed me.”

“Lies veil the truths we strive to keep hidden,” he said. “Everyone protects the child that lives inside each of us. Some use violence to build walls, others logic, and so on and so on.” He paused, glaring at her. “I know you understand.” Hate distorted the boy’s innocent face.

Her nails pierced the flesh of her palms. “I don’t. I never lied to anyone.”

As he turned to face her, his limbs extended, his body thickened, his lush curly hair, thinned and whitened. His cheeks drooped and skin wrinkled. He grabbed her wrist and pulled her close. “See. You’re good at it. Helps get you through the day. Right?”

Lu struggled to get away. Away from the smell of oil and metal she’d always associated with him. Away from the tone that stripped her of maturity and strength. She shut her eyes tight. “Don’t touch me!” she yelled. “Never touch me.”

The fingers around her wrist shrank and weakened allowing her to pull away.

“Why does everyone hate me?” The little boy moaned in anguish.

“Because you make them,” she yelled, stamping around the room looking everywhere but at the whimpering boy.

“I can’t let people close. You understand?” He forced her to meet his soulful eyes. “You try to be good. Normal. Like everyone else, but you get beaten for it. Told you’re worthless until you hear it echoed every day in your head. You try harder to be good, but the abuse only gets worse.” He sat down and crisscrossed his legs. “You know what got my mother’s attention?”

Lu calmed as his agitation grew, circling him once before sitting down, crisscrossed, facing him. “Tell me.” She’d never wondered what made her father, what she considered cold and evil. She’d never cared. Until now. Maybe her life would make more sense if she knew his story.

“Hating people,” he continued. “Being better than our neighbors. If you didn’t agree, you were out. Blood didn’t matter. No one spoke against her. If you did, you became nothing. I fought for her attention for so long I became nothing before she made me nothing.”

I loved you,” Lu pleaded. She paused and said, “I love you.”

“No. You wanted things from me I couldn’t give you. Still can’t.”

She raked claws through the carpet. “I want you to love me. To accept who I am, despite what you don’t understand, love me anyway.”

He cocked his head, “I can’t give you what I don’t know.”

She jumped up to her feet. “You make me feel worthless. You blame me for your miserable life.” Her fist hit the center of the door, shattering the wood like tempered glass. The walls fell next and then the floor. Finally, the ceiling rained down on her, the small dull shards of glass turning into water that trailed down her cheeks. “What’s happening?”

Her father stood up as the man she knew him to be. “That is what love is to me,” he said, placing a large hand on her shoulder.

“But you’re normal now,” Lu’s voice squeaked as her body returned to the age of thirteen, the year she found out how cruel her world was. “We can be a family.”

“No. I’m still lost, and you will know that once you’re free from this dream.”

The rain stopped falling and Lu looked up to see her father’s face. It hadn’t softened; his unkind eyes looked down at her the same way as they had the day he’d told Lu he had chosen his disgusting mistress over them. And it all had gone to hell from there.

“If my own father can’t love me,” she sniffled, “how can anyone else?”

“Your mother loved you. Your sister loved you. Just because they’ve passed on doesn’t mean they stopped,” he said, taking a step backward. “I’m just one fucked up person who made one bad choice after another.” He took another step away. “One day I’m going to want what I could never allow myself to have … and worse still, I will die knowing you will never forgive me.” His image shimmered and began to fade against a wall of darkness. “No one will come to my wake. And I deserve that.”

“Don’t go, Daddy!” Seven-year-old Lu screamed and ran forward. “I forgive you.” She wrapped her arms around his waist, and as they passed through, she yelled, “I do!” And then she fell forward into nothing and became nothing.

I love my life. My mind is full. My moods swing up and down, feeling the thrill and fear, but will never stop the motion. I read hate and cry. I read lies and shout in frustration. To free your mind is to free-fall into everything. Anything is possible. I fuel love and starve negative seeds. It is my way. I will die high before lowered into the ground. Life is everything death is a transition we all forget.

Heart Journey

Posted: January 23, 2017 in life lessons
Tags: , , ,

It’s pretty clear to me, that during this time at home here, helping my mom recover from her stroke, God is wasting no time at all, teaching me things. And not just any “things…” but real, important, messy things. Things that should come with an owners manual or an instruction guide. In other words, things you could […]

via Patience as a Way of Life — BeautyBeyondBones

To all mothers and fathers, grandparents step parents guardians etc. It is time. You need to show your children respect for yourselves in order to teach them respect for others. You need to step down off that pedestal to show them we are all equal and we all make mistakes. You need to teach your children to love themselves so they know how to treat others with the same considerations. You need to show them a good work ethic and stamina to reach higher than we have and go for their dreams. Teach them money isn’t everything. That anyone or anything that tramples on other people’s lives is oppression. That to make fun of the less fortunate is simply wrong. To grow their heart and minds beyond what they see and what ignorant people say. To make instinctual choices that betters our family, our friends our communities’ lives. To understand No means No. That how you treat others is a reflection of one’s self. That people need help no matter what the circumstance. Even if the don’t ask for it. To help without expectation. Teach forgiveness by forgiving. This is very difficult, but will make their lives happier despite whatever was done or said. To teach them anything said or done to them, is never about them. That actions occur from within. That a smile and a thank you is worth more than any sum of money. By doing this, you will show your children unconditional love. Nothing they do will make YOU walk away because humans make mistakes. And even if that mistake puts them in jail for the rest of their lives…Your love for them will never die. We need to move forward together.

The president has decided, on his first day, to strip people of their healthcare benefits. Why? We are talking twenty million people going without healthcare. Republicans want it repealed, but they are the ones who created the Affordable Healthcare Act, best know as Obamacare. He deleted policies on the LGBT and Environment. What does that mean to our friends and family in a same sex marriage? Will he attack their ability to adopt? Will he destroy years of evolving and put us back into the dark ages where men tell everyone how they should act and who they should be and where they are best placed? A person is best revealed by his or her actions.

Religion has NO place in our government. We are made up of many different faiths, including those who do not have a god. One man cannot tell us when, or where we chould pray, or be or act because his god tells him to. We cannot follow any man that believes a persons sexuality is criminal in a response to the unncontrollable matter of nature.

And what about his supporters? Do they not see what he is doing? How is he making us strong by killing people who need medical care? What about his greatest um statement about jobs? Why wasn’t his first act as …president, to bring his families manufacturers back to the USA and give thousands of people jobs? Is it to difficult? Not profitable? Well welcome to the reason other companies outsource. I thought he was going to make us “great” again.

And yet his first act is to sign the ACA repeal.

I still want to see his tax reports. I haven’t forgotten about that. And no one else should. I see people who hate Obama post horrible things about his leadership. Most of these people live very comfortably. Have enough money to buy private healthcare and are not affected by anything this man promised. They complain, but I truly wonder what it is they are complaining about? Their nice house? Their substantial bank account? Their ability to do whatever they want, within reason?

How do these people rationalize Trump’s blatant lies? He’s on the news saying that everything he said were campaign tactics. Do you know what that means? Nothing he says can be seen as truth. Talk about two-faced, only he shows both, and laughs. I’m terrified. I really am. Not for me though. My life won’t be affected, but I have two daughters and a son who have many more years on this earth and what this mentally ill man does, may affect them.

I will tell you this…If I die anytime soon….The white house is going to get its first malevolent, pissed off poltergeist. My main focus will be to make Trump go bald and delete all his money. Have to hit him where it really hurts.

I vow to be me and continue being grumpy, but only until that first sip of coffee. To be annoyed by slow drivers. To fidget nervously in crowds. To appreciate the unique dynamic of my family. To watch and learn about people so I can be more understanding. Walk in other people’s shoes to gain new perspectives. To only allow me to edit my life. To live like I am the star of my award winning movie. Make decisions by what I know plus what I feel. To promote positive energy my way and not the way others want me to. I vow to continue being happy and confident just by being me. Thank you.

Human nature dictates questioning everything and then finding or making up a reason to ease our vulnerable minds. We do this in order to stop the repeat of a bad event or have a great experience happen again.  Twelve years after being diagnosed with breast cancer, the fear has yet to be completely silenced. When I hear of someone dying from the same illness, my first response is to find out what they did wrong. They had to have missed appointments or refused treatments… right? I mean, why did I survive? Worse is when I hear stories of it returning ten years later. Again, I go through a process of questioning everything, recalling everything I had done, asking my oncologist questions about percentages and statistics just to soothe the fright that will never go away. Fortunately, I have a lot of distractions to keep from obsessing which keeps my sanity walking the line at all times.

During my fight with my body to live, my mental health went into overdrive. I did what I normally do when faced with a challenge, that if bested, I felt would destroy me. I insured my emotional armor had no holes and my shield of logic was shining before I stepped forward into the fray. The walls I’d put up between me and the world came crashing down. I couldn’t survive if they remained in place. I hated it. I’d always kept a distance between everyone and my heart, except my kids. Now I’d be revealed and exposed for all to swoop in and take control of what I’d spent years, protecting all on my own.

Faith, thou art no friend of mine. I believed in what I could control. Delusional? Quite. This sickness threatened to rip me away from the people I vowed to keep safe from the rest of the world. And it might win. When people told me to have faith in God, I laughed. Never the one to accept putting my life into anyone else’s hands. Even the divine. That’s when I learned the acts of control did not exist. Nature cannot be controlled, though a lot of ignorant people think it can be and somehow convince others of the same. You’re wrong.

Hope? Well, with the unknown there is always hope. Eventually your wishes will be answered and not in the way you wanted or expected. Nature definitely has a great sense of humor and a nasty back handed bitch slap. In my case, she forced me up and out into the world. Forced me to let people in and trust others, but also insured that I knew not everyone could be trusted. Her use of smoke and mirrors dazzled my brain pushing me to tears and laughter in an even ratio. I went a little overboard in the wanting to get out and let people in. Ms. Nature showed me people who acted like friends but were really antagonists and those who acted like the villain could be trusted. Crazy? I know. Hope is just a delay tactic to the inevitable. Eventually, everyone shows their truth. Just like I had to.

Here’s my logic to my cancer experience:

I was already dead. I never went out. I kept my kids close at all times. My heart could not be reached by anyone but my husband and even then, he had to work for the opportunity. I truly appreciate his love and patience. My life’s foundation had been built on fear. The fear my husband would find someone better. That if I didn’t watch over my children 24/7 they would get hurt and I would have to kill whoever allowed that. I saw predators lurking in every corner of this world waiting for me to drop my guard.

My children were seven, five and three when the cancer bomb dropped right on my head. The first diagnosis did not come from a doctor. The bad news came from a medium. Yes. That’s right. My deceased mother, who I watched die from cancer, told me to go to the doctor. I listened like I always, mostly, did growing up under her guidance. My base-line mammography changed my world.

I must have done something wrong to be punished like that. To be forced to allow others to watch over my children while I recovered from a double mastectomy, sat in a chair for hours every other week while poison slowly dripped into my vein making me weak and feeling barely alive and then weeks of radiation that tore open parts of my skin. What the hell did I do? I think I asked my husband, at least, ten times a day if I would survive. When you’re stuck in bed, unable to move and barely able to think you do wonder why you’re still alive. And then my children would curl up next to me and I knew.

Cancer didn’t change me, but everything I had to do to win the battle did. I made the hard decisions. I gave up parts of myself in order to free my heart, my mind and my soul from the cage I kept them all locked in. It’s somewhat true that “what doesn’t kill you, makes you stronger.” But it can also make you weaker if you let it.

I barely survived my childhood with a sense of self. I wasn’t abused, but both loved and hated in equal measures. Love was twisted by betrayal and abandonment and I remember the hurt more than the affection. Stories I learned later on were worse than what had been going on right in front of my eyes. I started putting together my armor at the age of thirteen with the complete loss of safety and comfort. So you can imagine how impenetrable it was when I got married at the age of twenty-five. My husband definitely saw more of me than I did for him to actually say “I do.” And mean it.

And he was right.

I’m still crazy protective but instead of suffocating my family inside armor too small for me alone, I taught them how to protect themselves in every which way possible. This includes showing them I’m human and confess that I make mistakes like everyone else.

So Hope and Faith are beautiful sentiments, but if life doesn’t go the way you want it to, think of it as an adventure and try the find the treasures in the junk.