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“Perhaps our eyes need to be washed by our tears once in a while, so that we can see Life with a clearer view again.”

June 7th, 2010 Comments off

I’m not having a good morning, and I can’t even begin to express to you how tired I am of saying that.  But saying it is exponentially better than actually feeling it.  And I’m more than sick of feeling it, too.

Nothing has really gone wrong, per se.  I woke up with a lump the size of Texas in my throat, and no matter how much I swallow, it just sits there, taunting me.  My eyelids are just barely restraining the tears that came with it.  And no matter how long I sit here trying to ignore the rest of the world and think, I can’t figure out what it’s about.

Which means it’s the monthly monster deciding to go out with a bang, I’m sure.  But knowing that isn’t making the torrential downpour that wants to spout from my eyes go away.  And I’ve seriously considered just sitting in the bathroom for an hour and letting myself cry.  If it weren’t for the fear that I wouldn’t stop.

M bought me some new perfume the other day.  I keep saying it’s a mock Liz Claiborne scent, but it’s not.  The perfume it’s supposed to smell like is Elizabeth Arden’s Sunflowers.  It smells almost identical, and I love it.  I would have preferred to have the body spray, but the store was out.  Next time.  Read more…

Categories: Rayne Tags:

Ghosts

June 7th, 2010 1 comment

Dweaver talks about how the ghosts of our pasts affect our present lives and who we are.  Specifically, how his childhood has affected his adulthood.  Thanks, Dave!

I get epiphanies at the weirdest times.  One I had recently was that we are all products of our past.  More importantly, being healed of the damage done to us in our past doesn’t make that any less true.  You see, this latest epiphany came while I was riding the bus into work.  I work in the same town I grew up in (from 3rd grade on).  This is important because someone else still works in this town after over 30 years.

To understand where this is going, you have to understand a bit about my childhood.  Early on, I had the stereotypical good childhood; any tension between mom and dad was well hidden form we kids and had no discernible affect on us.  Then came the war; the Vietnam war.  My dad (I was an air force brat) was sent for a tour of duty there.  He came back…different.  Essentially, he came back an abusive bastard.  That started my childhood’s quick slide into one of misery, for the most part.

I suspect he’d always been an alcoholic, but before that nine months (the tour was cut short), he had it relatively under control.  That ended after he came back.  He also came back fairly paranoid.  He was convinced mom had cheated on him and went out of his way to prove it.  Over the next few years, he steadily abused my mom, both mentally and physically.  Before long, she was seeing a psychiatrist and taking some pretty heavy meds; which, ironically, the good doctor allowed my dad to control.  Needless to say, she didn’t get any better.

Eventually, after several suicide attempts, she committed herself to a psychiatric facility.  The next day, my dad filed for divorce and custody, based on the fact that my mom was incapable of taking care of us.  He hired a young, up and coming lawyer to represent him, and that’s where we get to today.  That lawyer still plies his trade in my home town.  I see his current offices every time I ride the bus, and I keep thinking to myself, “If I could just spend half an hour talking to this (?) idiot…jerk…amoral bastard…”  Read more…

Categories: Sojourners Tags: