Damaged but Unique & You?

Which aspects do you think makes a person unique?

As a woman I have failed. Failed myself, my relationships as well as the children i have given life to. One child I had to let go of because sometimes you cannot love someone who will never even see the damage inside of her own inner self. Once upon a time….. this story is true, it’s from my heart. It is time to tell it like it is not like it was. 🌹

Life is a grand illusion of mastering an image of the pretentious life you would like to own. Many of my classmates in high school were preparing for the life they were given to believe was theirs they only sought after the better classmates as friends and for social activities. While I and others were cast a shadow down to believe we were less than others. When that age you learn to adapt as beneath the rest and you believe it is what you are good enough for.

There was never a college or after high school graduation plan for me. I was given the best advice I can remember by my father when I went to him at age 16-1/2 to ask if he would sign the paperwork which gave permission for my employment at the Jordan Marsh store which was opening at the brand new Methuen Mall. I was delighted that my father actually spoke to me with words which were to my teenage self said as an adult to an adult.

He asked as we walked up the walkway from the door; “Do you really want to start working?”

“Yes I really would like to, please?” I answered attempting to keep my delight within my soul.

“Because once you start this job you will always be working.”

“Why” I was very unsure of his intentions. It was my belief I would find my special someone, fall deeply in love and begin to have a family.

He said without any real emotion; “once you get a paycheck you can never stop.”

Flat words without any meaning or further conversation left me without any meaning to his intentions. He had been injured at work and had stopped working. My mother had become the family provider by beginning her career but mostly the medical insurance provider for 5 kids and her injured husband. Did he attempt to share his uncertainty of his true intentions that his job was taken from him because he alone had chosen to enter a room which was filled with chemicals which would cause him a lifelong lung injury? While he rescued his coworker in the blast I an uncertain if the one he recused lived or died. I did understand his actions were never looked at as heroic only said to be ‘not within his employment handbook duties’. His claim for medical payment was rejected. His job was ended. The life he thought we had, although never up on the clouds in a dreamy lifetime of mansions, was over. Did he ever question had he done right or wrong by his conscience choice of saving his coworker from death by a leaking chemical canister? Was his decision to enter an area he was not permitted an unconscious choice because as his daughter I would have done the exact same thing by saving a life but not my own. It is not a choice to enter and do the right thing……until it was the last choice before the flame bites you.

Once the choice has been made my life had become a reckoning of never ending chase for a paycheck. A wonder-filled experiment of dangerous events from one paycheck to another or a bad relationship into another never really understanding what a good life vs the life I had been taught to expect. Always beneath my heart and soul. It was an ever following the sun as it set because the days were filled with gritty jobs to get that paycheck, running to the daycare to pickup 2 kids, groceries and hoping there was enough gas in the car to make it home then do it all over again next day.

Life was never filled with choices of better or even worse? We lived in a 2 bed/1 bath second story in a decent neighborhood. Yup the building was bad, it was terrible. Yes. It ate all of my paycheck, the food was derived by foodstamps which never really covered all the food we ate. So the kids ate peanut butter and watered down jelly or cereal with watered down milk. They never knew it. My treat was the small bottle of un-watered down milk hidden in the back of the fridge marked “Mommy’s Only”….. Either they never saw it or were well behaved enough to never ask why I had special milk in a Tupperware creamer. They did understand it was only to be used in “Mommy’s morning coffee”. Maybe it was because it made me less grouchy after only a few hours of sleep or maybe as I shared “someday you can have the same!” Happy promises given to 2 children that were so innocent and trusting? They were all mine because their father had happily stolen all my trust, my image along with his sharing too many lies about me with only intentions of destroying me as he happily moved on with his life as a free man. Who he was only became apparent after his mothers shared who he really was; mentally ill and his life filled with more lies about everyone other than himself. “He takes after Roger.”she shared one afternoon. I knew Roger, his father was a bit of a quirky inventive man who would share the most obvious lies which were quite disturbing as well as vulgar if the person had crossed him in a bad way. So what I was told as ‘just pretend not to hear his stories because he probably didn’t take his medication again’ but later I discovered he was actually a schizophrenic as were almost every other member in his family going back more generations back. They did live long life’s but all ended up in a hospital of some sort.

This is where my daughter inherited her quirky, destructive way of life. Yet she differs in that her only hatred in life is me. She hates me with a passion. Where her father left me for another woman selfishly sharing false iterations of how I had done the same to him by not only finding a new love with a ‘used car salesman’ but the child I was carrying (the same daughter) belonged to the used car salesman or possibly the teenager which lived next door. He was never ready to be certain over his cruel arrogance in rejecting the fact he was a ready participant in creating our second child until the night a coworker lured him to her home. After that night he arrived home to announce his sudden departure to parts unknown. He left me with an apartment filled with guns, rifles, an illegal amount of gun powder and ammunition he was filling inside of a basement room unlocked to all who wanted to visit….. Then one day the ATF knocked. I invited them inside thinking naively they were picking up his guns….. nope. They were searching for him on an arrest warrant. That story belongs unto it’s own post. Promise it will be written.

Yet still not born for a few more months the girl had an identical appearance as her brother (age 2-1/2). He was the son Daddy had been so happy with. Such a proud and ‘humble but not a participating father’ he was thrilled to share photos of his “only child” becasue as the father he saw an identical appearance from his baby photos compared to HIS son. Yet the baby girl became his thorn, never paying support because he intentionally chose a state which paid for hay for cows and swill for the pigs before ordering any child support money to be given to the children of divorce especially when they resided in another state. By the time I was give the $25 per month for both children they were teenagers living with my parents. I happily signed the court order relinquishing the insult of a ten year battle over to my mother. (Again it should be stated the support order was stopped for reasons I do not know. Nor do I really care.)

Back to the actual topic at the very top….. what makes a person unique? “Which aspects do you think makes a person unique?”

If chose to begin a book, no a novel…a 3 part hard covered novel I could start and finish in one over night scribbled version. I won’t because I can not because I have chosen to put all of it, every single lie, false statements and even his illogical stories which sometimes were the very same as his father’s words of ‘woe is me’ versions always wrapped around how I or someone else have always been the bad demonic person. Oddly enough the girl who still remains a version of the mentally ill girl she has never lost is an exact resemblance, even a replica in appearance as he at her age of 44 years. She still reflects upon all the bad and negative things she experienced in her life while I went off and vacationed. Of course in her version there were plenty of very desirable men, sloppy alcoholic beverages and money which i spent upon myself. All while hiding my Tupperware creamer filled with un-watered down whole for my one morning cup of instant coffee. I have heard of her unadulterated version in which she claims she actually tasted it….. as a child of course. It had a very bad smell and it tasted like booze. Yet she claimed she ‘never knew what ‘booze’ tasted like ever!’

The uniqueness of this story is there is not a single pause for any “alleged”, “allegedly” or any other humorous blips to show I am writing from an uncertain memory (or memories) which despite the years which have passed are still as raw from the jagged pieces of glass used to cut my heart open wide every single time I stop and think about how much I trusted that man with all of my heart…. I was young and had never been taught of my worth nor had I even thought about who I was at the age of 18. My parents just opened the doors wide and told me to go. The only advice was of my father asking me if I really wanted to begin a life of earning my way in life at my first job.

Little would I ever understand how certain people look specifically to cause pain which will never dull despite the years passed. Did I have a bullseye target on my back which he was specifically searching for? Did he think if I share my genetic seed will I have a child who will continue my wrath after I am gone?

However to finally learn I was never the crazy one after too many years of being gaslight by someone you did not know. I never knew him. The very same human despite having 2 children and a 3 year marriage I choose to cross to the other side of the street rather than have any contact. (Yes I do the very same to his daughter.) My life is as living in replica, an experience which if left alone is like watching the very same black and white movie matinee repeatedly without ever realizing this is the exact duplicate of the gaslighting again… This time it is by the daughter no longer mine. She is the non acknowledged adult-child long past psychologically damaged and abandoned by this man. If she only saw the damage she has caused to everyone including those who only sought to abuse her as he did? She never knew him but through the cruel genetics she inherited an exact replica of who he was. As he inherited from his own father and he from his. When we think of our children do we even stop to think of what a personality with mental illness will appear as next to the twinkle of his blue eyes and belong curly hair? We do not because it is out of reach of our normal social cues.

“Do you think our baby will bat shit crazy like your father is?” “At what age should we start her on lithium and antipsychotics?” “What age did you get your diagnosis?” “Wait you are a hired assassin for the who… the government?” Yes one of these sentences is true. Can you guess which one…..

Next time you meet and believe someone is unique, they are special in a way only you can see…..Run as far away as possible because what you are experiencing is called gaslighting. It is only directed to you for a reason only known and understood by the “unique” person and guided to you. There is a reason…..and do not stay to understand. Being “unique” is not desirable. It is not anything close to like, lust or even love. It is a human seeking to destroy another human because they want to or because they can. Stop, reverse, do not pass go. Lock your doors and step on the gas until you are farther away than you want to think you are? Then fill up the gas tank and drive until you have done that 2 more times?

This as written is very much true. I have not written one alleged, allegedly or written one word that is not the truth. When he died I felt freer because despite over 50 years passed the thought of one last gaslighting session was unbearable. The target placed on my back was finally removed once and forever.

Still reading? Thank you very much, XXOOXX