Monday, June 28, 2010
Tuesday, June 22, 2010
Looking Up
I know that my last few posts haven't been the nicest.
Last week knowing that the downward cycle was increasing I decided to try and take a vacation day that would give me a 3 day weekend.
Today was my first day off. Even though last week I was given 3 days off (actually 4) it didn't give me time to plan so forth.
Today I got a french manicure. I hate it. My fingers hurt. Well, they hurt because i've picked my nails so bad over the last week (and months/years) and now that i have these pretty white tips...well they are annoying. My typing speed of 70+ words per minute....it is now down to about oh 20 if that. It's killing me. The pinky nails were so bad that the man that did them told me he thought they would come off by tonight. Still on. I took my sweet Abi with me and she got her nails painted very pretty w/a floral design. She was sick with high temps yesterday. Fine today.
Then I had a therapy appt. Something she's told me many times (and my pdoc) is there is a different tone in the color of my eyes when I'm doing good vs bad. Anyway, she was pretty adament that the blue coloring in my eyes is/was much brighter. Unlike last week.
I am trying to plan and take care of me. Trying to remember that Corry's bd is just that. I will enjoy mine. I will not allow his birthday to make or break mine.
It is what it is....
TILL IT ISN'T.
Tomorrow we have some errands and so such to do.
Then on Thursday we are planning a trip to Noah's Ark or 6 Flags Great America.
Spending every minute that I can with my family. Making the best of every moment. Trying like h*ll to stay out of that deep dark place of grief and anger.
Last week knowing that the downward cycle was increasing I decided to try and take a vacation day that would give me a 3 day weekend.
Today was my first day off. Even though last week I was given 3 days off (actually 4) it didn't give me time to plan so forth.
Today I got a french manicure. I hate it. My fingers hurt. Well, they hurt because i've picked my nails so bad over the last week (and months/years) and now that i have these pretty white tips...well they are annoying. My typing speed of 70+ words per minute....it is now down to about oh 20 if that. It's killing me. The pinky nails were so bad that the man that did them told me he thought they would come off by tonight. Still on. I took my sweet Abi with me and she got her nails painted very pretty w/a floral design. She was sick with high temps yesterday. Fine today.
Then I had a therapy appt. Something she's told me many times (and my pdoc) is there is a different tone in the color of my eyes when I'm doing good vs bad. Anyway, she was pretty adament that the blue coloring in my eyes is/was much brighter. Unlike last week.
I am trying to plan and take care of me. Trying to remember that Corry's bd is just that. I will enjoy mine. I will not allow his birthday to make or break mine.
It is what it is....
TILL IT ISN'T.
Tomorrow we have some errands and so such to do.
Then on Thursday we are planning a trip to Noah's Ark or 6 Flags Great America.
Spending every minute that I can with my family. Making the best of every moment. Trying like h*ll to stay out of that deep dark place of grief and anger.
Saturday, June 19, 2010
WOW
Just when I thought the tears couldn't come.
They did.
I just got off the phone with my mom.
Someone in my family has been dx with cancer.
Damn.
Makes my trials and frustations all so much smaller in the realm of things.
They did.
I just got off the phone with my mom.
Someone in my family has been dx with cancer.
Damn.
Makes my trials and frustations all so much smaller in the realm of things.
Heart broken - (REALLY LONG)
~not just because of my own life situations and stuff but for other families who are walking this same journey. For mothers who have lost their sons (and daughters)....from disruption, from poor choices, from whatever it may be.
I've been told several times over the last few weeks that I should just let the tears flow. Instead, the tears are there. Behind the surface. Slowly creeping out onto the surface. Slowly.
I guess maybe it is my body's way of subconsciously saying 'you've been dealing w/this for too many years, get up and get over it Gala". And so instead maybe, i don't know, maybe it is more of a numb place of grief and healing that I'm in... Sure I feel it all right just numb.
My last post I talked about a young man, similiar in age and circumstances, as Cor whose life had ended. His body was found on Monday morning.
Over the last several days there have been several reports regarding what happened to this young man.
I don't listen to the news, unless it comes on the radio. Several years ago I had a therapist tell me I needed to stop listening to the news. There was to many horrific things that would just cause me to explode inside. That those news reports would break me. For the most part, I took that advice (I'll tell you why...hold on) to heart as much as possible. Unless, the news is on the radio, rarely do I ever turn the news on to LISTEN or WATCH IT!! Nearly all of the news I hear or see is because I look it up on the local stations online. When this therapist and I had this conversation a few years ago (stay w/me...this will make sense in a moment or so), she adviced me to 'pick and choose what I wanted to read. If you read a headline that says "Youth rapes 2 different women on same day" you can choose to NOT read it. If you read a headline that says "Metro employee sues City of M over discrimination" and because you work for the City of M_ aand you want to read it...you can.
So that has been my motto for the last few years. Read/listen to what you want, forget the rest. Rarely ever do I listen and/or read information regarding horrifying acts. It hits to close to home.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
That being said, it has been very hard to not listen to the news report of a young man, simliar in age, adopted, in foster home bc of whatever, who died sometime in the last hours of Sunday night/early Monday.
It has been even harder reading/hearing the reports of what happened and why to this young man. Equally, hard and this has been where the tears have flown at abudance off and on over the last few days.....is the person who ended this young mans life. He, too...just a kid. I don't know his background. I don't want to know his background.Becuase if I know it...it might just anger me even more or make me even more sick. I look at the picture in the paper of his mother, sobbing, shortly after her sons initial court appearance. And, I picture myself, in that very same seat. Wearing the very same clothing. Thinking the very same thing that she must be thinking.
Guess what? This young man, it isn't his first time appearing before a judge. No, it isn't. You know what? Several years ago, he at the ripe age of 13 commited a very horrible crime. One that he only received 2 yrs in a juv. detention. Maybe it was a little longer. I don't know. I've not read that much into why. I can't.
That same child, that 13 year old....is one of the very reasons WHY I stopped reading the papers. At that very time, Cor was 11 or 12ish. It hit to close to home.
What did our justice system do for this child?
Did they offer him help? I really don't know.
I can't cry. I can't. I'm to damn numb. What has the justice system done for my child? Nothing. Some might read this and think "well, you've not done much for him either." thank you very much...you can save your fingers and know that I've thought the same thing.
Motive: He was mad. Mad because someone didn't pick him up at the bus stop (which btw makes me even more upset bc I drive those bus stops). He wanted this young mans cell phone. He robbed him of his shoes and cell phone. Seriously? You are so damn angry that you not only steal something as LITTLE as a damn cell phone and shoes but then you kick the life out of another human being?
Now what? Life in prison? For what? A pair of damn shoes that were 2 sizes to big and a damn phone? Beause you were mad?
I've lived it. I've seen it. I've seen the rage in my pre-teen childs face that led to pure rage. Rage that hurt not only myself but my babies. I've lived those gasps of breath that my newborn took after the kitchen chair landed on him....and seen the rage and udder dispair and broken-ness in my childs eyes.
Two broken souls. Both ended on Sunday evening. One in breathe/life and one in spirit.
This entire thing is wrong. So incredible wrong it makes me sick. Seriously, physically ill. Yeah. I can't cry. I haven't cried (today anyway). Instead, after I read the news article in the paper, I promptly got out of my bus and vomitted.
I started this post last night. I had to go back and retype most of it because there were to many 4+ letter words that needed to be edited.
This morning, Diana, wrote "I cried Today".
Different...but the same.
I know that if my current therapist would read what I'm about to write...well...I know what she would say. So J_ if you read this...save your breathe!!
There are many days/nights that I can't sleep.
That I lay awake in complete and udder fear.
Fear that that next unknown knock on my door.....
That I might run into him on the street.........
That I might open up tomorrows paper.......
and the news would be...just what I read this week. That the child that we had such high hopes for - took someone elses' life.
Fear that his anger and rage would be directed at me.....and the 1 sure bet to hurt me would be to hurt one of my children or family members.
This is the stuff that keeps me stuck...
Stuck in grief.
Stuck in anger.
Stuck in everything that is/was/will ever be....
The comments...if you only loved him more. They STICK like glue.
The comments....if you're bio child did this. They STICK like glue.
The comments....you just try to save the world. They STICK like.
This is the stuff that rips my soul. Every bit of what I've wrote on this blog....today, last week, last month, last year....every single word.
This is the stuff that truly rips my testimony of the Gospel of Jesus Christ apart...the stuff that I said today, last week, last month, last year. EVERY BIT OF IT.
I know my Father in Heaven loves each of us.
I know my Father in Heaven is all loving Father.
I believe in the atonment of Jesus Christ. And unfortunately, because the things that I've shared today, last week, last month, last year.....this things...my testimony and faith have faltered.
I can not agree, nor will I ever...(in my opinion today) that I will ever agree that my son knew before he came to earth the trials he would be given, that he would essentially be w/o a family/parents, that he knew in the pre-existence that WE would choose to disrupt, that he would age out in treatment facilities....
I just can't wrap my head around that. It makes no sense to me. That he would send someone to this earth - knowing that their days are numbered (I do believe this) but that they are numbered as a serial killer? As a 13 yr old rapist? As a 17 yr old murder?
I just can't. I can't believe that I my Father in Heaven would say to me "Gala, you are going to go thru x years of infertility, then your church leaders that you love and trust...they are going to lie to you so that you will then become a mom....blah blah blah broken record I am I know....
I've rambled. I guess, I went from trying to write a 'well thought out and such post" to completely loosing my schlict!! BTW: tears are plentiful now!
I've been told several times over the last few weeks that I should just let the tears flow. Instead, the tears are there. Behind the surface. Slowly creeping out onto the surface. Slowly.
I guess maybe it is my body's way of subconsciously saying 'you've been dealing w/this for too many years, get up and get over it Gala". And so instead maybe, i don't know, maybe it is more of a numb place of grief and healing that I'm in... Sure I feel it all right just numb.
My last post I talked about a young man, similiar in age and circumstances, as Cor whose life had ended. His body was found on Monday morning.
Over the last several days there have been several reports regarding what happened to this young man.
I don't listen to the news, unless it comes on the radio. Several years ago I had a therapist tell me I needed to stop listening to the news. There was to many horrific things that would just cause me to explode inside. That those news reports would break me. For the most part, I took that advice (I'll tell you why...hold on) to heart as much as possible. Unless, the news is on the radio, rarely do I ever turn the news on to LISTEN or WATCH IT!! Nearly all of the news I hear or see is because I look it up on the local stations online. When this therapist and I had this conversation a few years ago (stay w/me...this will make sense in a moment or so), she adviced me to 'pick and choose what I wanted to read. If you read a headline that says "Youth rapes 2 different women on same day" you can choose to NOT read it. If you read a headline that says "Metro employee sues City of M over discrimination" and because you work for the City of M_ aand you want to read it...you can.
So that has been my motto for the last few years. Read/listen to what you want, forget the rest. Rarely ever do I listen and/or read information regarding horrifying acts. It hits to close to home.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
That being said, it has been very hard to not listen to the news report of a young man, simliar in age, adopted, in foster home bc of whatever, who died sometime in the last hours of Sunday night/early Monday.
It has been even harder reading/hearing the reports of what happened and why to this young man. Equally, hard and this has been where the tears have flown at abudance off and on over the last few days.....is the person who ended this young mans life. He, too...just a kid. I don't know his background. I don't want to know his background.Becuase if I know it...it might just anger me even more or make me even more sick. I look at the picture in the paper of his mother, sobbing, shortly after her sons initial court appearance. And, I picture myself, in that very same seat. Wearing the very same clothing. Thinking the very same thing that she must be thinking.
Guess what? This young man, it isn't his first time appearing before a judge. No, it isn't. You know what? Several years ago, he at the ripe age of 13 commited a very horrible crime. One that he only received 2 yrs in a juv. detention. Maybe it was a little longer. I don't know. I've not read that much into why. I can't.
That same child, that 13 year old....is one of the very reasons WHY I stopped reading the papers. At that very time, Cor was 11 or 12ish. It hit to close to home.
What did our justice system do for this child?
Did they offer him help? I really don't know.
I can't cry. I can't. I'm to damn numb. What has the justice system done for my child? Nothing. Some might read this and think "well, you've not done much for him either." thank you very much...you can save your fingers and know that I've thought the same thing.
Motive: He was mad. Mad because someone didn't pick him up at the bus stop (which btw makes me even more upset bc I drive those bus stops). He wanted this young mans cell phone. He robbed him of his shoes and cell phone. Seriously? You are so damn angry that you not only steal something as LITTLE as a damn cell phone and shoes but then you kick the life out of another human being?
Now what? Life in prison? For what? A pair of damn shoes that were 2 sizes to big and a damn phone? Beause you were mad?
I've lived it. I've seen it. I've seen the rage in my pre-teen childs face that led to pure rage. Rage that hurt not only myself but my babies. I've lived those gasps of breath that my newborn took after the kitchen chair landed on him....and seen the rage and udder dispair and broken-ness in my childs eyes.
Two broken souls. Both ended on Sunday evening. One in breathe/life and one in spirit.
This entire thing is wrong. So incredible wrong it makes me sick. Seriously, physically ill. Yeah. I can't cry. I haven't cried (today anyway). Instead, after I read the news article in the paper, I promptly got out of my bus and vomitted.
I started this post last night. I had to go back and retype most of it because there were to many 4+ letter words that needed to be edited.
This morning, Diana, wrote "I cried Today".
Different...but the same.
I know that if my current therapist would read what I'm about to write...well...I know what she would say. So J_ if you read this...save your breathe!!
There are many days/nights that I can't sleep.
That I lay awake in complete and udder fear.
Fear that that next unknown knock on my door.....
That I might run into him on the street.........
That I might open up tomorrows paper.......
and the news would be...just what I read this week. That the child that we had such high hopes for - took someone elses' life.
Fear that his anger and rage would be directed at me.....and the 1 sure bet to hurt me would be to hurt one of my children or family members.
This is the stuff that keeps me stuck...
Stuck in grief.
Stuck in anger.
Stuck in everything that is/was/will ever be....
The comments...if you only loved him more. They STICK like glue.
The comments....if you're bio child did this. They STICK like glue.
The comments....you just try to save the world. They STICK like.
This is the stuff that rips my soul. Every bit of what I've wrote on this blog....today, last week, last month, last year....every single word.
This is the stuff that truly rips my testimony of the Gospel of Jesus Christ apart...the stuff that I said today, last week, last month, last year. EVERY BIT OF IT.
I know my Father in Heaven loves each of us.
I know my Father in Heaven is all loving Father.
I believe in the atonment of Jesus Christ. And unfortunately, because the things that I've shared today, last week, last month, last year.....this things...my testimony and faith have faltered.
I can not agree, nor will I ever...(in my opinion today) that I will ever agree that my son knew before he came to earth the trials he would be given, that he would essentially be w/o a family/parents, that he knew in the pre-existence that WE would choose to disrupt, that he would age out in treatment facilities....
I just can't wrap my head around that. It makes no sense to me. That he would send someone to this earth - knowing that their days are numbered (I do believe this) but that they are numbered as a serial killer? As a 13 yr old rapist? As a 17 yr old murder?
I just can't. I can't believe that I my Father in Heaven would say to me "Gala, you are going to go thru x years of infertility, then your church leaders that you love and trust...they are going to lie to you so that you will then become a mom....blah blah blah broken record I am I know....
I've rambled. I guess, I went from trying to write a 'well thought out and such post" to completely loosing my schlict!! BTW: tears are plentiful now!
Tuesday, June 15, 2010
Just pick at that scab some more...
That is what I'm thinking when I read a news article tonight about a young man who was murdered yesterday. A young man who is the same age as Cor. A young man who was adopted around the same age. A young man who was removed from his adoptive mothers home a few years ago because of similiar reasons as Cor. A young man who has been in the same mental health institutions as Cor. A young man, whose heart was damaged and hurting similiar to Cor's.
This young man's life has now ended. No one really knows why. No one really knows how. (Media hasn't released it at this point). Regardless of how, when, where, why.....it is a horrible tragedy.
Actually, the scab has been picked at several times over the last few weeks, months, years. Many times just when I think that the wound is close to healing, it breaks open again.
This news article could have read my sons name. Only it didn't. Maybe because my son is still in a secure facility. That I know of anyway. I wish I could reach out and hug his mom. Tell her how I get it. How my heart hurts for her and her family.
This young man's life has now ended. No one really knows why. No one really knows how. (Media hasn't released it at this point). Regardless of how, when, where, why.....it is a horrible tragedy.
Actually, the scab has been picked at several times over the last few weeks, months, years. Many times just when I think that the wound is close to healing, it breaks open again.
This news article could have read my sons name. Only it didn't. Maybe because my son is still in a secure facility. That I know of anyway. I wish I could reach out and hug his mom. Tell her how I get it. How my heart hurts for her and her family.
Saturday, June 12, 2010
Bitter-sweet 16
In 2 weeks Cor will turn 16...
I guess I will just leave the above sentence. I've typed, deleted, typed, deleted over and over and over again......coming up with nothing. Not one thing that makes sense. Nothing that is worth blogging. That is worth sharing. Because, quite honestly, nothing about the entire situation makes sense!
I guess I will just leave the above sentence. I've typed, deleted, typed, deleted over and over and over again......coming up with nothing. Not one thing that makes sense. Nothing that is worth blogging. That is worth sharing. Because, quite honestly, nothing about the entire situation makes sense!
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)