Forgiveness...????

Before I was talking about forgiveness. I realized a few weeks ago that when a big omission of mine finally came out I never apologized. I can say it was because I was so surprised by the fact it was known but that isn't an excuse. It's been eating at me. I have a horrible feeling the person I kept things from believes a different form of the truth and it is making me sick thinking they believe that to be true.

Fuck....... None of this is going to make sense if I keep talking in generalities. That is disingenuous of me when I promised you all full disclosure and not half stories or half truths. Which maybe is the whole point of why I am feeling this way... I feel like I gave the person only half or maybe none of the truth when I was "confronted" with the knowledge the knew my secret. The secret I kept from them.

Maybe you have read all of my blog posts, I doubt it so... here's the backstory. Back in 2012 I wrote about a relationship I had with someone who started out as a great friend and he ended up being way more. (he still doesn't know I am writing about my life and my past so he still gets a fake name. Some of you reading this post and the post from 2015 will know who he is because you knew us both etc....) So, Billy and I ended up more than friends but still could be friends. He believed in me before I really believed in myself. He is the reason I moved from NJ to TX. He told me to he wanted me happy and to take the leap. I think he sensed the gypsy in me before I really did. I had a wanderlust that kept pulling at me. A knowledge that staying where I was wasn't what I needed. Change was what I needed and he saw it too.

Damn... I keep getting away from my story and point. See Billy is a sore spot for me. In all my life I have never known anyone like him and I did something awful to him and to me as well. I do feel guilt for this. I got pregnant and never told him even after I lost it. To say I was in shock when I found out would be an understatement. Bottom line even being in shock doesn't absolve me from not telling him. I played a martyr almost.... I worried it out, acted like everything was fine and didn't acknowledge it etc, etc, etc. but I never told him I was pregnant and I never told him I lost the baby. I can't decide if our relationship not our friendship but our relationship changed because we were just meant to be friends or if it was because i was keeping this secret. See Billy and I had an amazingly fun, teasing, flirting relationship for years before anything happened between us. Up to that point in my life he knew me in all of my fuckupedness and he still was there as my friend and then more. Unfortunately we haven't been in contact in a very long time. That reason is for another time.

Now comes my fear and the whole forgiveness deal blowing through my mind. For whatever reason I realized the other day I'd have a teenage if I hadn't have lost my baby and decided to keep it. And all of a sudden I thought of how I never told Billy about the baby and how someone else told him I was pregnant and never told him. Nay they told him after he told me to move from NJ and find myself. I never knew he was told til one night I was out and ran into him and he told me "I would have been a good father." Now here is the thing. I told him I was sorry, once I got over that sucker punched feeling, but it hit me the other day I don't know if he thinks I got rid of the baby or if I lost it. God that sounds stupid... When I say I lost a baby I feel like it doesn't encompass how awful I felt. You lose a toy or your car keys... not a baby.

So, if I feel like that, was my "I'm sorry" really enough... and add in my fear he thinks I got rid of it. So... I have guilt and fear he believes something that isn't true and even so he forgave me that night in that stupid bar. He just forgave me. I feel like I owe him more than that. I wish I could get in touch with him and tell him everything. I want him to know everything... It's kind of ridiculous, right. Sounds like its just for my conscious but its not I feel like the friendship we had deserves it.

Then I realize I'll probably never be able to do that/this so.... and maybe this isn't about forgiveness from him but me forgiving myself all these years later. I just have to hope he knows/knew me well enough to know my truth of all of this and he really did accept my apology (how do you really apologize for that) and he forgave me.

In the end maybe it isn't so much about forgiveness and more about making amends. My soul searching has me trying to differentiate between the two and maybe this time I want to make amends.

Wow, this got a lot longer and more in depth than I thought it would be... Thanks for "listening".

Love you all- Lili 

Regression

The words are here or there but I am not sure how to write them down. I am mentally tired and just a little lost. Physically I am not really any better than I was before my back surgery. So I'm fighting at this point to just make it thru without losing it. God forbid I lose it, right?

I am not sure how to play at this anymore. I am falling back into the pattern of "being fine" for others when I'm not "fine" at all. As my shrink would say I'm regressing. Regression whereas I like aggression to be honest. I can understand that. I know how to use that, to be that. Regression is losing even if it brings you back to a place where you/I can start again.

Make any sense?? Oddly enough as I write this it makes a lot of sense to me. I mean if it ends ok then the journey , no matter how fucked up, is worth it. Or it should be. ??? I feel like everything is going in circles. Once I have a handle on my life, health etc... I "regress" back to a place that I thought was behind me.

How many times can they tell me I am sick... How many times can they tell me I need another test, MRI, myelogram, blood test, treatment and injections. Then let's pile on my emotional health that stems from all of this and more. Yea.... I regress.... And when I do I do it big! That's something.. Ha!

I know I am babbling and it isn't the best one of my posts and I apologize for that. I've just had a few
hard knocks this week with my health and with my emotions (decisions I have made). Just been a bad week and I realized writing even if it is just a little bit and may not make a lot of sense writing helps me. I have forgotten that part of me. I had forgotten how writing frees me... So I guess I am back in all my rambling glory.

As always I love y'all and hope my fuckupedness can help one or more of y'all.

*excuse the typos*

LiliBitch

I'm still "feeling" raw.

Seems like I am always fighting for my life. Ok... So I'll back up a bit. I've been doing a lot of self introspection ie: fucking homework, thanks to my psychiatrist. Don't get me wrong I know I am too fucked up to just be done working on myself and my issues. It took years to get so fucked up I'm not ignorant to the fact it'll take me a long time to get me to a really good place, hell maybe forever I'll have to keep working to get there.

Anyhow, it still makes me insanely (ha!) pissed off.... I've been working on my being open emotionally and physically with people. Letting people in etc... Which makes me laugh because I let all of you into my fucked up brain all the damn time but apparently that is not enough. I have to flay myself open or at least that is how it feels to me, and truly look at all my layers. You know all those lovely things I've tried forever to forget, pretend someone else did, the people I have let down or how I feel like I've let myself down. Oh and let's not forget my own mortality. I kind of hoped I gained a pass from this shit since I got sick.... I mean isn't dealing with death, dying... worrying about my family and who will take my place in keeping shit together never mind who will be able to do all of that plus keeping my Mama, my husband and my baby girl sane. How much more do I have to delve into my fucked-upedness?

I'm fucking tired. Not in a I wanna let go and just float away tired as in death etc.... But I'm fucking tired! I keep fighting and my body isn't working with me. It's a sense of agony, of insanity and having no clue how to feel good enough to move forward for myself and my homework/healing and taking care of who/what i am responsible of and love.

So I went through my angry phase (maybe you realized with my obsession with FFDP *i still fucking love them but*) now I am still angry but my musical choice of late is Breaking Benjamin (ie: my quote from the song Dear Agony). " I will fight with one last breath.... Just let go slowly. Is this the way it's got to be... Don't bury me... Faceless enemy.... Dear agony... Leave me alone, God let me go, black will burn.... Hate lift me me up.... Just turn around there's nothing left."

Sense a theme? Now with that being said I couldn't figure out why this song pulled at me so hard. I mean there is so many angst riddled songs in the world of new and old music but why this one. Then I had a vague memory about the lead singer and some pretty severe issues etc... So hello Wikipedia and I remembered ... This is the first album he ever wrote and recorded sober. Ding ding ding.... I may not be an alcoholic or an addict but I was a "cutter", an emotionally fucked up kid and until I was a semi young adult a fucked up one of those too. Add in bi polar with a bit of PTSD in and hello.... Dear Agony, just let go  of me.

This song isn't about death and darkness, at least to me.... It is a song about grasping at the tiny little strings that are tethering me here and trying to break away from my fear and hell of my past (all of my actions reactionary and otherwise as well as what was done to me.) but also me fighting for my life and not forgetting to feel everything.

My shrink is a tricky bitch. She loves that shit... Don't forget to feel she says.... Like I can forget it but then again when I "did" forget to feel I wasn't do well at all. See the biggest misconception about me and my mental illness is that medication will fix me entirely. I'm not on the brink anymore or ready to jump from the ledge but for me being medicated and "feeling" is a razors edge for me. It would've served me better if I was just crazy or if I was just abused. I have to feel and deal with "double" the fun stuff. Let me tell you that sucks. See, she is a tricky bitch. She knows what I have to feel and what I'll face.... my deepest and darkest secrets that I only have told to 2 people, under duress. Am I strong enough...

"Suffer slowly.... Don't bury me faceless enemy... I'm so sorry... Is this the way it's gotta be... Dear agony...?" See, there is the song again... I'm fighting a war of my heart, mind and now my body. I keep waiting for something else and quite honestly you have no idea..... It doesn't end anymore. There is always something coming. I can feel it before it happens but there is a shit ton of "other shoe(s) that have fallen and they will, most probably continue to fall."

The only good part of this is that I'm not in a bad place anymore ok not a totally emotionally bad place; that's more honest. I'm not abusing myself, cutting etc... I'm am fighting to live and fighting for my family. "Somewhere far beyond this world.... Dear agony... Just let go of me.... Don't bury... Is this how it's supposed to be.?"

See, she is a tricky bitch but she is an amazing shrink. Plus she lets me use music because of what it has always done and been for me. She also encourages me and my writing. I told her I was afraid that people look at me differently as I continue to pull back all of my layers and admit to the darkest parts of myself. She said then fuck them and you now what? She's right. Go figure, but if my truest self is too much or too sad or too disgusting for you (I've only scratched the surface so, you haven't heard all of it) than she's right, fuck all.

So my homework is/was working on being more emotionally and physically open. I'm trying but in the process I've learned my feelings are still extremely raw. I am fumbling more than sure of where I am going. I'm fighting for my life once again all while I am struggling to figure out how to heal emotionally and its fucking messy as hell. Frighteningly so.... But I'm still fighting. Sometimes suffering slowly kind of makes sense. . . ?

http://youtu.be/rsiHbuwXixg check out the song and the lyrics, please. Maybe you'll get me just a little bit more.

" I will end where I began." - Dear Agony -Breaking Bejamin

Love Hard, Always...
LilBitch ❤️

I fought for my life and my emotional health and my fucking body is rejecting me.

I guess I have been "quiet" for about a year now. Trust me when I say I've been working in ways that aren't visible and vocal but they are important. I found from this blog that sharing in other ways and with people who need just someone to talk to is helpful in my learning and growth as a survivor...dealing with my mental and emotional health as well as my physical health as well.

I hate saying it but since I became sick or better yet someone did the right tests and found out I was for all intents and purposes, dying. Scary right? Yea, it is... Funny thing was and is I sat through blood transfusions and test after test, blown veins, ct scans, mri's, ultrasounds, got a port in put in my chest... Was told a had a heart murmur and a leaky heart valve and god knows what else and all I thought about was what a waste my life was... And how I needed to revise my will. 

The will makes sense but feeling my life was a waste is kind of redundant. I mean I survived beatings that I thought would kill me. Emotional, mental and physical abuse and dealing with being bi polar. Alcoholism in my immediate family and otherwise... And all I could think of was what a waste my life was? I mean come on, I know what I've overcome and who I am, right? 

So, I sat stoically through countless doctors appointments and did more tests. Then I started treatments because apparently my body is rejecting me... It's rejecting me! How's that for irony?  Of all the things I thought could ever happen I seriously thought the worst had already happened. What's the biggest "God said Ha!" moment ever? When you pushed and pulled and fought for your life. When you've given voice to a story that is uniquely your own but it's so many others as well... and my body is rejecting me.?.?. Motherfucker I kept this body alive.... I fought for my life and my emotional health and my fucking body is rejecting me. 

In a way my sick sense of humor looked at it as an irony of epic proportions that when I say the only luck I have is bad luck has been proven true once again. Which leads me to the next part , what the hell do I do now? Do I just say fuck it all and live life til it's done and over or do I stare my mortality in the face and say Fuck You, I know you can do better than this.? 

And that is the real question isn't it. When faced with your deepest and darkest time do you fight with everything you have? Do you take a step back and evaluate? Or do you do what I'd did and laugh at how my own body hates me and think about getting my will changed etc.? 

I sit and watch everyone is the chemotherapy/treatment room, they put all sickies together, and I look at the expressions and feel the moods. Some are visibly angry and indignant and fuck all they are gonna fight! Then you have the ones who've been here before a time or two and you feel the desperate last ditch attempt at fighting to live. Or the ones who have pretty much given up and are only doing this as a token gesture for family. And then there is me... I refuse to cry no matter how much it hurts and how nauseous I get. I smile at the girl who is my age and has no hair and asks for her Mama because she's scared. I let people I don't know hug me and touch my hand (well most of you know from my past touching, hugging etc scares the hell out of me and can trigger PTSD attacks and my anxiety to go through the roof)) and  tell me how everything is going to be alright because it makes them feel better to say it. Meanwhile I'm sitting there wondering if anyone knows what it's like to know your body is rejecting you?

I know I'm not the first to go through something like this and I won't be the last. But see I did get a Ha! moment and that moment made me question everything. From who I really am  to if anything I have done really made a difference? It goes back to the age old question of do I matter? If I am here still will I make a difference and if I'm not will that make a difference? For fucks sakes I'm an advocate for victims of domestic violence and people who suffer with bi polar, PTSD and depressive disorders and I felt like I was back to square one. The scared little girl who turned into the scared teenager who turned into the scared young woman. 

So Now What? 

I think that's good for now, don't you? I'll be back tomorrow or Thursday. But for now i think that s enough.

Love you guys...
LilBitch

So now I am sad. I am angry. I hate going backwards...

There isn't a day that goes by that I don't struggle, some days more than others, in my fight to stay in a good/healthy place. Now don't get me wrong I'm not complaining or whining. I knew it would continue to be a struggle. It takes a lot to combat years of abuse be it from family and on to my ex. 

It sounds crazy but the struggle... Hell, more like the fight, is a good thing, at least for me. It keeps me in the moment and not mired negatively in the past. I say this because someone had the balls to say that I should let the past go. All the memories, thoughts and feelings. They feel its not helpful. What hurt the most was it was said by someone who I love and has been a part of my life forever. They are my family... 

I used to fear opening my mind to the past... Peeling the layers back and remembering. I found that it gave me the ability to heal and to make sure I never allowed anything like that to happen again. Kind of like the saying if we don't remember the past we are doomed to repeat it. For myself, my well being and my sanity I have to remember and be open to it, see it and feel it. It keeps me centered where I need to be. 

I am hurt by the person who told me to just let it all go. As in my heart hurts because that was just the tip of the ice berg as far as the conversation went. I was made to feel insignificant. That my thoughts and feelings on more than just the subject of my life at the hands of my advisers meant nothing. And it was all for the sake of them not choosing sides. 

Funny thing though... I can't totally blame them. I relied on them to take my feelings into consideration and by doing so I gave my power away. The one thing that I know is the worst thing to do. Only I should have power over me... So even though the disregarded me, my feelings etc... I bear some of it as well.  

So now I am sad. I am angry. I hate going backwards.... Now I am fighting back and it's so hard this time. I just have to keep pushing forward. The one thing I want you all to know is you hold the power but don't think that toxic people can't do you harm. They can and will even if they don't realize it. 

I am slowly but surely getting back to blogging etc so I will say bye for now and I'll catch up with you all in the next day or so. 

Love LilBitch

I still have fear, pain and anger...I am a liar.

I was pretty sure of myself. I told everyone my past made me who I was and it was a good thing... I liked who I became... blah, blah, blah... That was so far from the truth. I did my best to forget as much of my past as I could while it still holds/held me in it's grip. My fear is a living thing to me and it isn't happy I have been pushing it down and not seeing it or giving it's due. Sounds weird I am sure but it is there.

I still have the fear. I still have the pain. I still have the anger. I am a liar.... I've lied to myself, my Mama, my Old Man, my friends, to everyone. I only gave just enough of myself. Never all of myself because I'm still afraid. Oddly enough I didn't really know it til I started writing and talking about it. Then it all started coming back in force and I couldn't bottle it up again. Yes, that is a good thing but I didn't even realize how much I have locked up and I hate feeling lost in the mess of my mind.

I've been feeling pretty fucked up... I'm lost, pissed off, agitated, angry, at times aggressive but I continue to put out a happy face for the most part. I actually have only shown my craziness to one other person aside from Scott.

Why is it I can't allow people to really see me? I am unfiltered... no holds barred but even so I only allow so much out to everyone and only allow a certain few really in. I have perfected the art of being open and honest but within the confines of what I am comfortable with people knowing. I could care less what people think of me. That's never been a hang up of mine. I just don't trust easily and it's easier to only give a little of yourself when you can't trust.

I don't even know what I am trying to accomplish with this post. Part of me hopes that it will help me work thru all of the things, thoughts, feelings and memories that have been smashing into me the past month or so. I'm trying so hard to figure things out and just working it thru in my mind isn't working... Here's hoping my babbling post gives me something to go on.

I've missed writing to all of you. I am making a promise to return to a more active posting schedule. I promise to be more honest than I ever was before... I promise myself I'll get myself to a place that I'm not afraid and I am just me. Good, bad or indifferent... Love me or hate me.

Til next time...
Love ya...
~LilBitch

I'm a survivor, just like my Mama.

Before I start tonight I want to apologize... I'm sorry I haven't written in awhile but it took me alittle longer to get back into the swing of things after being so sick. Slowly but surely I am getting everything back to normal. I hope nobody thought I forgot about them or that I wasn't writing anymore.... Not happening... I need this and in a way love it too much!


Now, as you have probably guessed I'm going to be writing about my Mom tonight. Our relationship is definitely the most important relationship I have... maybe ever had. I've learned so many things from her (good & bad), we've been thru things others will never understand, our lives have run parallel in more ways than one and somehow we've always had a strong bond, no matter what. Tomorrow night we will be celebrating her being sober 3 years... 3 years!!!! It's the longest she has ever been sober and I feel blessed to be her daughter and can celebrate this with her.

I guess I have to start at the beginning... As I have said my Mama couldn't have children so she and my Dad adopted me when I was a day old. They brought me home and my Mom had every hope that life would be better. Her and my fathers family had no love lost between them, her side of the family wasn't close either (except for my Granny) so her dream was her, my dad and me... family of her own.

Not long after my father got sick with Alzheimer's and everything changed. Her dreams never were realized and life never was the same. My Mom always drank, socially at first and then it just grew and grew and grew.... By the time my dad had died and she remarried, my step dad, her addiction to alcohol was in place.  

There are so many things I don't remember with crystal clear clarity but I do remember being 3 or 4 and my Granny telling me if I ever saw my Mama drinking anything from the big bottles (scotch etc) along with pills from a bottle like this (she showed me the bottle) to come and get her. That Mama didn't act like herself when she did and she could hurt herself... I remember my Mama yelling at my Granny about that... she was so angry. What she didn't realize was that by my Granny telling me that from a young age I realized that alcohol and her drinking too much was the cause for her being a mess at times, losing her shit, saying things that she normally wouldn't etc... I knew what addiction was before I could spell it but more importantly I realized it was a disease.

Now I know a lot of people are saying no child should have to deal with that etc and you are right. In a perfect world no child should have an alcoholic mother and a dickhead abusive step dad. In a perfect world neither of my parental figures would have been drunks (contrary to popular belief my step dad was a drunk, what they call in rehab a dry drunk, he didn't drink to excess often but showed the symptoms of a full blown alcoholic and when he did drink in excess watch the fuck out!) If I lived in a perfect world I wouldn't have had to worry about my safety and well being along with my baby sister's. So I guess you could say I learned a lot earlier than most people that life isn't fair and by no means is it perfect.

I don't want it to sound like that I always forgave my Mom or I looked the other way or even was ok with her struggle with alcoholism. I wasn't... I got mad and angry... I screamed and yelled and fought with her. Many more times than I can count I cried.... I always loved my Mama but I hated her disease... I hated who she became, the things she said and did... the things she didn't do. I hated being responsible when I was so young because she couldn't be... I hated not being comfortable having friends over... I hated the fear most of all.

I was always afraid. I was afraid she kill herself, or that someone would know what was going on in our house. I was afraid my step dad would freak out and I'd catch hell because I didn't do what I was supposed to do... As far as he was concerned I was supposed to "handle" my mother, take care of my sister and keep the secrets.

My life was ruled for so long by fear and secrets. I was a child from a home that was abusive and sick and it was ugly. I did a pretty good job of covering and lying, no one really knew. I remember once when I was 15 or so and I was sleeping over at a friends house and actually talked about some of the stuff that was going on in my family and my friend looked at me with a look of shock and said to me "Lil I thought you didn't have any problems. You never say anything is wrong." Also when I was out of HS, someone I knew since kindergarten was at my house one night and actually saw my Mom acting the fool while she was drunk and he was totally shocked that he never knew my Mom was a drunk. Even if my step dad said I didn't do anything right apparently I followed some directions well... I kept the secrets of our dysfunctional family very well.

I struggle to explain to people my relationship with my Mom. I know how so many people look at alcoholics and addicts and I don't want anyone to speak against her or hate her... I know what she was and still is but I also have watched her scratch and claw her way out of the abyss of alcohol. I by no means think what she did was right or good... Not to mention she totally owns her past and has done her best to make amends for what she did. She is doing her best to live the life she always wanted for herself. How could I hold that against her.

My Mom by no means had it easy... her life from the time she was young had many things happen that should never have happened to a child. I won't tell the instances etc because that's her story and not mine to tell. I will say that between her struggle and my own struggle we have done our best to break the cycle of the abuse that we both individually and together went thru. We both still struggle and obviously are still working thru things but we are doing it.

3 years ago I came home to a mother who had just totalled her car and 2 others while driving drunk. When I spoke to her about it she tried, like usual, to push it off... make it seem less awful than it was. Then she broke my heart... She told me "Every night I go to bed and pray that I won't wake up in the morning." I immediately started crying.... felt sick and cold down to my bones... all I said to her was "Do you love me???" She looked startled by my question. "do you love me?????????" I asked again, she just took a deep breath. I was so scared... I told her if she loved me she would never pray to not wake in the morning... Right then I realized how much I did love my Mom and that I would love her enough til she could love herself. In the next few days I kept at her and made it clear that she needed help... Not for me or for anyone but herself. She finally took the step to ask for help. 3 years later I have my Mom... Happy, goofy, silly and relatively healthy.

My Mom and I don't have the normal Mom and daughter relationship. We've been thru so much together, I've finally come clean about my past with my ex with her and lots of other things I kept from her out of fear. We are open and honest with one another... She is my rock, my champion and my best friend. I do my best to make sure she knows how important she is to me.

She has asked me to introduce her tonight at her 3 year AA Bday and I am honored that she asked me.  I am so thankful she is sober, happy and in such a good place. I am also thankful for the relationship we have now but also for the relationship we have always had. Yes, it was messy and dysfunctional. It wasn't perfect or pretty but deep down no matter how bad things got I always knew she loved me, that she was doing the best she could while she was battling her demons. I guess I understand that more than most especially now... I've battled my own demons and continue to battle them. I am a survivor, just like my Mama.

I love you Mama!!!!!!!


I think this is good enough for now... ;)

~LilBitch