Still struggling…

with the feeling of having all my things trashed. It was mean spirited and cruel and can’t be undone. My insides just hurt. I’d been waiting to put my home back together. It sits on my mind like a weight. Hard as I try, I do not understand this level of deliberately hurting someone you love. It’s a bridge burned and that is so undoable, so final. The hate and anger she spews with her fingers – not saying it with her voice but with her hands –
V said she was sorry the arguement got so ugly. Yes, UGLY…the perfect word.

UGLY.
Damn.

I feel the need to restructure. Re-nest. My things were all sentimental items. How do I redo sentimental? My sea shell I found on Jekyll Island, the ornaments I’d hand stitched for our tree, my indian things – my feathers, my diary, my genealogy papers and letters from my great grandfather, the pictures of all my kids growing through the years – Baby books, my grandma’s quilts and cast iron skillet. Vanessa’s wedding calender, kaiha’s birth pictures, Geoffrey’s baby book. A poem Greg had written for Vanessa right after she was born. A baseball card Steve tucked in G’s favorite book. A book Kansas wrote in for me. Geoffrey’s drum. MY birth pictures. Pictures of my gramma, of my mom and dad. I guess I need to write this stuff down. There were towels, blankets, dishes, pots and pans, our coats, our clothes, the cords to my computer storage, the teapot Taryn helped me pick out, all of our DVD’s and CDs, my printer – our Christmas stockings I’d made, my doll, the jewelry box Steve gave me, the jewelry I’d made, pictures of my grandkids, and all my craft stuff. Buckets of yarn, clay, items I’d made to give to people, things I intended to sell, too.

I HURT. I am angry and hurt. I have lost my things, and my precious daughter and grandsons. I feel like someone has died. FUCK. Brenda said move forward and be a warrior. HOW?

I don’t want to be a warrior.
I want somebody to fix it.

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About Green Jean Granny

I believe in and practice positive living with a bit of a barb it seems. I love YARN, music, reading, history, and gemstones. I am passionate about the Earth. I am a true homebody. I've said I was Pagan for years to separate myself from a churchy upbringing and judgmental family that left me outside of its beliefs. I believe it's our responsibility to tend and protect the Earth. I basically do my thing in a (not so) quiet, amused way. I believe in the power of my own hands, the energy of combined prayer, and caring for the earth. I attend a nondenominational Christian Church. I have 6 kids, all home-born and successfully breastfed. The oldest 5 are grown. The youngest is attending Community College and living at home. I'm the oldest of 9, daughter of a missionary mother who lives in The Republic of Congo, married to the son of a preacher, with 3 spoiled dogs and and an add on (my daughter's pit bull lives here for a bit while she hikes the Appalachian Trail. Right now, there is small balance after yrs of unemployment. My disability was approved due to degenerative disc disease and fibromyalgia. I believe we owe it to ourselves to protect our mental health. It's precious and the one thing we can control. I dislike my own housework and I talk too much. I bought a house in North Carolina and after trying to get my husband here for 6 months, he had a stroke. I'm a two-time caregiver. Steve's got hemiparesis and diabetes and is learning to walk and trying to use his right side again. It's slow going. Our 10 kitties were rehomed by rescue after his stroke.
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2 Responses to Still struggling…

  1. bicky says:

    i want you to know i know how you feel. when i left donnie it was with the clothes on my back and what i already had stashed in my car, which was a day planner and some cd’s. he eventually brought me a box of clothes and my jewelry box (in hopes that i would sleep with him again) and i was so excited, until i opened them and saw the contents. he had sliced up all my clothes, and replaced all my fine jewelry with plastic shit from the dollar store. i was so pissed. it took me years to replace what i lost, and some things have never been replaced. i never got any of the precious pictures i had from high school on, no baby pictures, nothing. a year or so ago, my best friend of 30+ years found some pictures i had mailed her in 1986, of kelly as a baby, and sent them back to me, i just bawled upon opening her mail. a few trinkets have made their way back to me, like my dads knife, when susan brought it to me that time she moved in with me. it stays locked up, and will never see donnies hands again. i have since been told that they burned everything i ‘left behind’ which kills me each time i hear it. all i have is the memories. it was very hard to move on, it took me a long time to get past thinking i had something and then realizing i had it there but not here. even simple things like family recipes.
    i know this act by kayla has to burn that much more, donnie hated me, so i should have never expected him to respect my stuff. my kids have given me the few things i have, sometimes even without realizing it. ive had to remake things, and just remember other things. if i think too hard on it, it brings tears. she should have more respect for you.
    youll have to cry it out, and then pick up and move on. im sorry this happened. i truly am, there is no sense in hurting you this way, shes a petty child and needs her ass kicked. id be happy to do it for you, shes only safe til i see her again someday.
    i love you Ambs.,

  2. I love you too hon. I’m sorry you have to know how any of this feels. It’s definitely shitty. Thank you so much for not hating me for everything that went on. I still feel ashamed to have put your family through so much Lynne. Mean people mystify me. I may have run but I don’t think I’ve ever knowingly been mean. Even abuse is no excuse for this level of disrespect. And yeah, burns is a good word too.
    I know how to do this thing – once we lost everything to a fire and it’s much the same except there wasn’t a person to be mad at (aside from a 4 yr old with matches). It’s the anger I feel towards my daughter that is the worst part of this. The sadness strikes me unexpectedly IF it even leaves me. My other girls choosing not to talk about it hurts too. I feel myself withdrawing and that’s not a good thing. I’m aware of it and have it on the list.
    When I think about it, I find myself wanting her to suffer – it’s just that it means her boys will be affected which I don’t want. How can there be this much emotional crap over what we attach to? Neither of us has to beat her ass though – her choices are building for life to do it for us/her.
    Maybe my friend Lisa will have pictures. I’ll ask her. Thank you for that idea. I’m going to make new things for G and me and this time, I won’t pick junk 😉 xxoo

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