You wouldn’t believe me if I told ya…

Sitting down today to write was motivated by the recent leaking of my blog to a few. I didn’t pick them. If they showed interest and asked, I shared the link. I just kept saying to myself that the people who need to know this will receive it. Letting this happen as I did reminded me that I am allowing the powers that be in the universe to guide my journey.

I have been taken aback with questions that have come up repeatedly over the last week. “Why didn’t you tell me? How come I didn’t know about this? You would think that I would’ve known about this before? You never looked like you were struggling?” The last one made me laugh out loud…literally. Not laughing at the people who voiced these questions, but that these questions never occurred to me before this week!

Excuse me for my bluntness, but who the fuck would tell anyone any of this shit?!?!?!?! LOL and LMFAO…no, really! It never occurred to me to go around and tell people my story. And, I was taught early on not to tell. No one would believe me. And I would be punished if I told. A great example of I am only as sick as my secrets. And boy, was I sick…and suffering.

Once again, I will make the statement that I am not diminishing anyone’s pain and suffering. I am not saying that anyone should get over “it”… whatever their “it” is. What I am expressing in sharing my story is that you are not alone AND you can come out of “it” and come out of “it” bigger, better, badder and more beautiful…and beyond your wildest dreams!!!! This is MY story, MY experience and what I did with a shitty start and sharing the lessons and gratitude I gained from it all.

One of the best lessons in my life was learning very, very early that I was, in many senses, on my own. I think all five of us kids were somewhere along the line. “If it is to be it is up to me”… one of my favorite mantras. If I hadn’t realized this lesson early I don’t think I would’ve kept pushing and moving forward. At times, it was messy and disastrous, but none the less, it was forward motion. I wouldn’t have achieved my goals…any of them. I wouldn’t have pushed myself or my son to, “No matter what”, keep going! I wouldn’t feel as great as I do right this minute! For that lesson, I am eternally grateful…

Some have posed responses of doubt. My guess is that they doubt my story is true. I don’t know though because I won’t ask them…And that’s ok. That person is NOT the person that I am supposed to help with my story. Besides, you really, really can’t make this shit up. And yes, I am LMAO!

My journey…? My journey is tri-fold. Let me start here…

I was fairly young, maybe 8 or 9 I would guess, and we were still living in Norwalk, CT when I realized deep within me that I needed to take care of myself. I wandered around the neighborhood a lot (much to my detriment), and with little and no supervision or accountability. I think all of us five kids did the same. My mom lived mostly in her room, in her bed, with the door closed. It was probably 1968 or 1969. And this is where she would stay for decades to come and it never changed much until her death from breast cancer in 2009. After the 5th child, I remember seeing little medicine bottles on her dresser… A LOT … Years later I found out it was “valium” per my mother. My dad traveled Monday through Friday and, come to find out later, cheated on my mom all the time accompanied with his alcohol abuse and violence. My guess is that she was depressed…and why wouldn’t she be?

I had wandered a little too far one time. It was neighborhoods away…miles I’m sure…and a very long walk for a little girl. I had followed some kids that I wanted to hang with and they had left me…WAY freekin out Ponus Avenue. They probably wanted to get rid of a punk kid that was unwanted in their preteen world. As I’ve said, I was always looking for a place to belong and a pack to be accepted into. But I had had several experiences before this day that showed me that going to my mom for help was not well received and always felt like I (and I’m sure WE) was more of a nuisance than her child…ultimately, throughout my whole life it was not a healthy option. Not much love was expressed by her and I’m sure it’s because of her own experience…but that’s her story.

I remember setting out to get back home after sitting on a curb for a little while feeling pretty scared and realized how far I was from home and literally lost. I started crying but quickly realized that crying wasn’t gonna get me home. I knew that if I wanted to get home…and I did desperately…that I had to figure it out. I knew the general direction from which we came, so I set out to get home. I walked for a long time on a road that was stretched out before me. Undeveloped and lot’s of woods on either side of the road. Back then, it wasn’t traveled well and I can remember the sun just warming my face and the quiet as I trudged along. Soon enough I started to recognize “Ponus Avenue” and it’s land marks. Then I recognized neighborhoods. I knew I was close to the roads close to my home and the homes of the girls I ran frequently with (S.R. and J.B…my childhood girlfriends). So I went down Harvann Road and went through the yards, down the “cliff” (I’m sure it was just a hill, but it felt like a cliff that day…LOL) to Tower Dr. down through the yards again, slipping on rocks on the cliff…(at one point wanted to turn around but knew I had gone too far to turn back) past my friend’s back yard to my back yard. Looking back, I’m not sure why the hell I just didn’t continue down Ponus Avenue to Bartlett Manor instead of going through the yards and down the rocky “cliff”, but I guess I just wanted to get home. I can still feel the relief when I climbed over the back yard fence and into our yard. I was home…”safe”.

I walked in the house, dinner was over, my mom was in her room with the door closed, the usual chaos buzzing…and…nothing. I realized life had gone on as usual without any concern as to where the hell I’d been….for…freekin…HOURS! Not poor me, but just a realization and actually I was glad I didn’t get in trouble. Looking back, I realize that this is where my level of survival began…and for that lesson, I am truly grateful. It taught me not to sit in my shit for too long and to get to going to “find my way” … what ever way that took me. It taught me that I should consider the safer way vs the shorter way. Easy is not always better. And mostly I know today that I am not all that important in the big scheme of things, but that I do have a path.

It has never been what has happened to me, but what I have done with it that matters.