In the beginning I had one secret. But it seems like that secret lead to another one and then that one lead to another. It's hard work protecting all your secrets - knowing that if just one comes out, everything will come unraveled.
There are just things I don't really want people to know about me. I feel embarrassed and ashamed. (So here I am blogging about it to the world - but I haven't really shared with anybody I know that I'm keeping this blog.)
It was not my fault that I was molested. I can not help how it affected me. I was 10. I was confused. I was scared. And I didn't go to my parents for help. I couldn't see then how it was affecting me and in fact it was only a few years ago that I began to understand the effects it had on me. I wish I had gotten help sooner because the problem just kept getting worse.
It has taken me a long time but I have finally learned that I can't 'wish' problems away or even 'pray' them away. I have to be willing to do some work to resolve them. I can't resolve them unless I meet them head on. I have to rise above my fears and my embarrassment and I have to 'trust' that God has placed people in my path to help me through. HE has taken care of me all this time and now I feel Him telling me that THIS is the time to step out of my comfort zone and get serious about healing. He will be there for me. He will get me through the fear. He will help me overcome the embarrassment and shame I feel. He will bring healing to my life and to my marriage and to my family. (We are not broken. But we could be stronger.)
The day I talked with Father D, he said to me (something to the effect) "I'm convinced that the time is right. I am convinced that you are ready to heal." He might be right but....
....I'm scared. I'm really scared. I'm scared to let go of all the secrets.
Saturday, November 21, 2009
Tuesday, November 17, 2009
Practicing
A couple of days ago I was in Target. I suddenly became aware that, like usual, I was walking fast - looking straight ahead. Something else I noted. My body felt tense. I stopped for a second and collected myself.
Took a deep breath and talked to myself.
"Slow down. Relax. Walk slow. RELAX. Look around. See anyone, you know? Walk slow."
It was hard work - trying to walk slow and stay relaxed! And then I couldn't remember what I was shopping for!!
I never did see anyone I knew! Go Figure!! -_-
Took a deep breath and talked to myself.
"Slow down. Relax. Walk slow. RELAX. Look around. See anyone, you know? Walk slow."
It was hard work - trying to walk slow and stay relaxed! And then I couldn't remember what I was shopping for!!
I never did see anyone I knew! Go Figure!! -_-
Sunday, November 15, 2009
7th Grade
I walk fast. I walk with a sense of purpose. I walk to get from point A to point B. I walk with my head down or my eyes focused straight ahead. Secretly, I hope that I don't see anybody I know. What will I say if I do? I think I started walking that way in about the 7th grade. This is how I remember it.
After I was molested in the 5th grade, I started questioning whether or not I could trust my feelings and instincts. It's a very scary thing not to be able to trust your instincts. I wasn't totally sure I COULDN'T, but I wasn't totally sure I COULD, either. I was still trying to figure it out when 7th grade happened.
7th grade. We were 12 and 13 years old. I came back to school after summer break and something had happened. People in my class were different. Suddenly there was a big emphasis on boy/girl relationships. Hand holding, making out, going steady. It seemed to me at the time that EVERYBODY had paired off or was wanting to pair off. I wasn't there yet. I was NOT interested in holding anybody's hand or kissing any boy on the lips.
As an adult, I can look back and understand that all children mature at different times. Very likely, I just wasn't there yet and wouldn't have been there even if I hadn't been molested. But I was 12 then and didn't have the benefit of an adult thought process. In my mind, this was just verification. I DIDN'T KNOW HOW I WAS SUPPOSED TO FEEL. In my mind, if other 12 year olds were feeling this way, then I should also be feeling this way. Something is definitely wrong with me. I really DON'T know how to feel. I can't trust myself to feel the way I'm supposed to. Something is wrong. I didn't like it when HE touched me. It was supposed to feel good. I was supposed to like it. Yes, something was definitely wrong with me.
I couldn't let anybody know how I felt. I had to keep these feelings a secret. I didn't want anybody to know how weird I was. I lost all confidence in myself.
I remember walking down the sidewalk as a 7th grader and in the distance I would see one of my classmates walking toward me. I am weird. They won't want to talk to me. This would be someone who I had gone to school with for 7 years. Someone who had never spoken an unkind word to me. But for some reason, in my mind, I didn't think they'd want to bother to even speak to me. I'd look down - or around - or straight ahead - but I would NOT make eye contact with them when we passed. I wanted them to think I didn't SEE them. It's not rude to not speak if you don't see someone. But always - always - the other person would speak as we got close. It was not other classmates who made me feel bad about myself. I was not teased or ridiculed by them. I projected all these negative feelings on myself.
By the time I got to high school, I was like a fish out of water. It's hard to make friends when you can't even trust that it's okay to say hi to someone. Thankfully, a couple of people reached out to ME - and I was able to respond to their kindness. The friendships I developed were few - but they were true and good. I was blessed.
After I was molested in the 5th grade, I started questioning whether or not I could trust my feelings and instincts. It's a very scary thing not to be able to trust your instincts. I wasn't totally sure I COULDN'T, but I wasn't totally sure I COULD, either. I was still trying to figure it out when 7th grade happened.
7th grade. We were 12 and 13 years old. I came back to school after summer break and something had happened. People in my class were different. Suddenly there was a big emphasis on boy/girl relationships. Hand holding, making out, going steady. It seemed to me at the time that EVERYBODY had paired off or was wanting to pair off. I wasn't there yet. I was NOT interested in holding anybody's hand or kissing any boy on the lips.
As an adult, I can look back and understand that all children mature at different times. Very likely, I just wasn't there yet and wouldn't have been there even if I hadn't been molested. But I was 12 then and didn't have the benefit of an adult thought process. In my mind, this was just verification. I DIDN'T KNOW HOW I WAS SUPPOSED TO FEEL. In my mind, if other 12 year olds were feeling this way, then I should also be feeling this way. Something is definitely wrong with me. I really DON'T know how to feel. I can't trust myself to feel the way I'm supposed to. Something is wrong. I didn't like it when HE touched me. It was supposed to feel good. I was supposed to like it. Yes, something was definitely wrong with me.
I couldn't let anybody know how I felt. I had to keep these feelings a secret. I didn't want anybody to know how weird I was. I lost all confidence in myself.
I remember walking down the sidewalk as a 7th grader and in the distance I would see one of my classmates walking toward me. I am weird. They won't want to talk to me. This would be someone who I had gone to school with for 7 years. Someone who had never spoken an unkind word to me. But for some reason, in my mind, I didn't think they'd want to bother to even speak to me. I'd look down - or around - or straight ahead - but I would NOT make eye contact with them when we passed. I wanted them to think I didn't SEE them. It's not rude to not speak if you don't see someone. But always - always - the other person would speak as we got close. It was not other classmates who made me feel bad about myself. I was not teased or ridiculed by them. I projected all these negative feelings on myself.
By the time I got to high school, I was like a fish out of water. It's hard to make friends when you can't even trust that it's okay to say hi to someone. Thankfully, a couple of people reached out to ME - and I was able to respond to their kindness. The friendships I developed were few - but they were true and good. I was blessed.
Friday, November 13, 2009
Finding Peace
He's dead. How is that supposed to make me feel?
When the detective first told me, I felt a small twinge of disappointment. I actually felt disappointed that I wouldn't see him held accountable. I didn't really expect to feel that way. But it was just a small disappointment. I got over it quickly.
Then, when I learned he still lived in town all these years, I felt threatened. Just for a split second though - until I remembered he was dead. That feeling surprised me too. I don't have a conscious memory of being afraid - except that I do remember that I didn't want to be in the car alone with him. I DO remember wishing that he would take ME home first. But he took Patsy home first. That's all I remember. I remember her getting out of the car at her house. And I remember pulling into the driveway at my house. I don't remember a thing about the ride home though. What did we talk about, I wonder.
But now, he's dead. I sit in church with his obituary in my hand and as I read it something happens. He was a son. His parents, who predeceased him, were both professors at a local university. He was a brother. His sisters live out of town. His brother still lives in town. He was an uncle. He wasn't survived or predeceased by a wife or children. His interests included European travel, German culture - and landscaping. No mention of him being a child molester. Not that THAT surprises me.
But it makes me wonder....What happened to him growing up? Was HE molested as a child? Was it his father? Uncle? Brother? Teacher? Did he tell? Did he keep it a secret? There was no wife, no children. Was he gay? That wouldn't have been accepted in those days. Maybe he was struggling with his sexuality trying to figure it out himself. Who knows WHAT he was thinking or WHY he did what he did. I don't think I'll ever know this side of heaven.
But I'm in church. I'm here because God is the only one who can give me answers. And He does - kind of.
Mr. K- was God's child too. He struggled with something. Doesn't matter what, but he struggled. He made poor choices. But he was God's child and God loved him. I am also God's child. And as His child, He calls me to be forgiving. He asks me not to judge. He asks me to trust Him. And I know deep in my heart that in God - justice and mercy meet. God may have had mercy on Mr. K - and I'm okay with that - because I also know that God cares about me too. God will not show mercy at the expense of justice. That's where Purgatory comes in. I believe that Mr. K- is experiencing a cleansing of his soul. And when God allows him full entrance into heaven, justice will have been served. I trust God on that. I don't have to worry about it.
Mr. K- is dead. He can't hurt me anymore. Wherever he is, I feel he understands now the pain that he caused. I feel he's sorry. And I forgive him. I have to. It's the only way to put it behind me. It's the only way to move forward. I still have a lot of healing to do. But I don't feel angry with him anymore. I write him a letter.
Dear Mr. K-
I wonder....
What was it like for you - the moment you passed from your earthly life into the very presence of God?
When you were standing there - surrounded by His love, ready to review your life?
Did you think you had resolved everything? Did you think you were ready?
Did you remember what you had done to me all those years ago? Or, had you forgotten?
Did you think God had forgotten? Were you surprised that He hadn't?
Did you feel ashamed? Did you feel sorry?
Did you cry?
Did you care? (I think you did.)
Did God forgive you?
I think He did.
And then, I whisper a little prayer for him. Rest in peace, Mr. K. I forgive you. But wherever you are - I hope you are praying for me also. Because I still need to heal. I have a lot of work to do. Amen
When the detective first told me, I felt a small twinge of disappointment. I actually felt disappointed that I wouldn't see him held accountable. I didn't really expect to feel that way. But it was just a small disappointment. I got over it quickly.
Then, when I learned he still lived in town all these years, I felt threatened. Just for a split second though - until I remembered he was dead. That feeling surprised me too. I don't have a conscious memory of being afraid - except that I do remember that I didn't want to be in the car alone with him. I DO remember wishing that he would take ME home first. But he took Patsy home first. That's all I remember. I remember her getting out of the car at her house. And I remember pulling into the driveway at my house. I don't remember a thing about the ride home though. What did we talk about, I wonder.
But now, he's dead. I sit in church with his obituary in my hand and as I read it something happens. He was a son. His parents, who predeceased him, were both professors at a local university. He was a brother. His sisters live out of town. His brother still lives in town. He was an uncle. He wasn't survived or predeceased by a wife or children. His interests included European travel, German culture - and landscaping. No mention of him being a child molester. Not that THAT surprises me.
But it makes me wonder....What happened to him growing up? Was HE molested as a child? Was it his father? Uncle? Brother? Teacher? Did he tell? Did he keep it a secret? There was no wife, no children. Was he gay? That wouldn't have been accepted in those days. Maybe he was struggling with his sexuality trying to figure it out himself. Who knows WHAT he was thinking or WHY he did what he did. I don't think I'll ever know this side of heaven.
But I'm in church. I'm here because God is the only one who can give me answers. And He does - kind of.
Mr. K- was God's child too. He struggled with something. Doesn't matter what, but he struggled. He made poor choices. But he was God's child and God loved him. I am also God's child. And as His child, He calls me to be forgiving. He asks me not to judge. He asks me to trust Him. And I know deep in my heart that in God - justice and mercy meet. God may have had mercy on Mr. K - and I'm okay with that - because I also know that God cares about me too. God will not show mercy at the expense of justice. That's where Purgatory comes in. I believe that Mr. K- is experiencing a cleansing of his soul. And when God allows him full entrance into heaven, justice will have been served. I trust God on that. I don't have to worry about it.
Mr. K- is dead. He can't hurt me anymore. Wherever he is, I feel he understands now the pain that he caused. I feel he's sorry. And I forgive him. I have to. It's the only way to put it behind me. It's the only way to move forward. I still have a lot of healing to do. But I don't feel angry with him anymore. I write him a letter.
Dear Mr. K-
I wonder....
What was it like for you - the moment you passed from your earthly life into the very presence of God?
When you were standing there - surrounded by His love, ready to review your life?
Did you think you had resolved everything? Did you think you were ready?
Did you remember what you had done to me all those years ago? Or, had you forgotten?
Did you think God had forgotten? Were you surprised that He hadn't?
Did you feel ashamed? Did you feel sorry?
Did you cry?
Did you care? (I think you did.)
Did God forgive you?
I think He did.
And then, I whisper a little prayer for him. Rest in peace, Mr. K. I forgive you. But wherever you are - I hope you are praying for me also. Because I still need to heal. I have a lot of work to do. Amen
Sunday, November 8, 2009
Threatened
The detective says the man died in 2006. Gave me his full name. I found his obit online. Yep! It's him. 63 years old. That's right. Has his picture and everything.
WHAT??? He's lived in town all these years?? For some reason, I THOUGHT he left town! Where did I get that idea? Was it something I told myself as a little girl to make myself feel safe? Maybe. Because suddenly I feel threatened. But I don't need to feel threatened. He's dead. Have I felt threatened all these years? I didn't realize I did. (Probably because I thought he was far away from me.) So maybe that IS why I've been screaming in my sleep since I was a little kid. I never could remember the dream. I wake up the whole house and then can't even remember what is so horrible to make me scream like that! Will I ever remember the dream? Now that I know he's dead will I stop screaming? Hope so! It's a little embarrassing!
WHAT??? He's lived in town all these years?? For some reason, I THOUGHT he left town! Where did I get that idea? Was it something I told myself as a little girl to make myself feel safe? Maybe. Because suddenly I feel threatened. But I don't need to feel threatened. He's dead. Have I felt threatened all these years? I didn't realize I did. (Probably because I thought he was far away from me.) So maybe that IS why I've been screaming in my sleep since I was a little kid. I never could remember the dream. I wake up the whole house and then can't even remember what is so horrible to make me scream like that! Will I ever remember the dream? Now that I know he's dead will I stop screaming? Hope so! It's a little embarrassing!
Saturday, November 7, 2009
Should I Report It?
It was so long ago. 40 years. Is it right to go back on a man 40 years after the fact?
I don't know anything about him anymore. I know his last name but not his first.
He never came back to school after that day. We finished the year with a different teacher. Why didn't he come back? Did he realize he shouldn't be around kids and so he removed himself from a tempting situation? Did he ever molest again?
Was this just a momentary indiscretion on the part of a young man - a first year teacher if memory serves me correctly?
Maybe he's changed and has lived a perfectly respectable life since that time.
Maybe he hasn't. Maybe he's continued to molest kids. Maybe he's still a threat.
And then I remember. HE manipulated me into getting into that car. He KNEW I trusted him. He KNEW my mom trusted him. I SAID NO! I TRIED TO HOLD MY SKIRT DOWN. This was not a momentary indiscretion. This was a deliberate act - planned ahead of time and carried through. Odds were - this wasn't the first time and it probably wasn't the last time. If he is still alive, he could still be a threat to other children. Reporting it is the right thing to do.
It's the right thing to do for any child who might have the misfortune of crossing his path. It's the right thing to do for HIM. He needs to be given the opportunity to accept responsibility. It's the right thing to do for ME.
Sorry, Mr. K- I'm not trying to hurt you but I HAVE to do this. I won't have any peace if I don't. Maybe nothing will come from it. Maybe they won't be able to find you. And even though Patsy witnessed what you did - maybe she won't remember it. Maybe it will be my word against yours. Maybe you're not even alive. Maybe you are. Maybe you'll go to jail. A whole lot of maybes. I need some answers. And anyway, I've dealt with this for 40 years now. If you're alive out there somewhere - then you're going to have to start dealing with it too.
I AM going to report it. (As soon as I find the courage!)
I don't know anything about him anymore. I know his last name but not his first.
He never came back to school after that day. We finished the year with a different teacher. Why didn't he come back? Did he realize he shouldn't be around kids and so he removed himself from a tempting situation? Did he ever molest again?
Was this just a momentary indiscretion on the part of a young man - a first year teacher if memory serves me correctly?
Maybe he's changed and has lived a perfectly respectable life since that time.
Maybe he hasn't. Maybe he's continued to molest kids. Maybe he's still a threat.
And then I remember. HE manipulated me into getting into that car. He KNEW I trusted him. He KNEW my mom trusted him. I SAID NO! I TRIED TO HOLD MY SKIRT DOWN. This was not a momentary indiscretion. This was a deliberate act - planned ahead of time and carried through. Odds were - this wasn't the first time and it probably wasn't the last time. If he is still alive, he could still be a threat to other children. Reporting it is the right thing to do.
It's the right thing to do for any child who might have the misfortune of crossing his path. It's the right thing to do for HIM. He needs to be given the opportunity to accept responsibility. It's the right thing to do for ME.
Sorry, Mr. K- I'm not trying to hurt you but I HAVE to do this. I won't have any peace if I don't. Maybe nothing will come from it. Maybe they won't be able to find you. And even though Patsy witnessed what you did - maybe she won't remember it. Maybe it will be my word against yours. Maybe you're not even alive. Maybe you are. Maybe you'll go to jail. A whole lot of maybes. I need some answers. And anyway, I've dealt with this for 40 years now. If you're alive out there somewhere - then you're going to have to start dealing with it too.
I AM going to report it. (As soon as I find the courage!)
Thursday, November 5, 2009
Acknowledging Sexual Abuse
I was reading a book by Wendy Maltz titled 'A Sexual Healing Journey.' In chapter 2 of that book, she lists 4 criteria to help a person determine if they had been sexually abused. A YES answer to any of them could indicate sexual abuse. I answered YES to all 4. They are as follows.
WERE YOU UNABLE TO GIVE YOUR FULL CONSENT? I was 10. Even if I HAD said yes, I was too young to fully understand and give consent. But the fact is - I SAID NO! So, YES, I was unable to give my full consent.
DID THE INCIDENT INVOLVE A BETRAYAL OF TRUST? YES, it did. He was my teacher. He was supposed to be looking out for me. I trusted him. He manipulated me into getting into that car with him.
DID IT INVOLVE HAVING YOUR PERSON OVERPOWERED? Yes, it did. I not only said 'no', I put my hands on my lap to hold my skirt down. HE pulled my hands away and held them back.
DID I FEEL ABUSED? Yes, I did. I didn't understand what happened. I felt embarrassed and ashamed - but didn't have a vocabulary at the time to explain that.
I WAS MOST DEFINITELY SEXUALLY MOLESTED.
WERE YOU UNABLE TO GIVE YOUR FULL CONSENT? I was 10. Even if I HAD said yes, I was too young to fully understand and give consent. But the fact is - I SAID NO! So, YES, I was unable to give my full consent.
DID THE INCIDENT INVOLVE A BETRAYAL OF TRUST? YES, it did. He was my teacher. He was supposed to be looking out for me. I trusted him. He manipulated me into getting into that car with him.
DID IT INVOLVE HAVING YOUR PERSON OVERPOWERED? Yes, it did. I not only said 'no', I put my hands on my lap to hold my skirt down. HE pulled my hands away and held them back.
DID I FEEL ABUSED? Yes, I did. I didn't understand what happened. I felt embarrassed and ashamed - but didn't have a vocabulary at the time to explain that.
I WAS MOST DEFINITELY SEXUALLY MOLESTED.
Wednesday, November 4, 2009
Counseling
Counseling is hard work. No wonder I put it off for so long!
I don't like not being able to fix my own problems.
I don't like crying in front of other people. It makes me feel vulnerable. I don't like admitting that this incident has caused me years of anguish and pain.
For years, I didn't deal with how I actually felt. As a matter of fact, I tried to deny to myself how I actually felt. I told myself that he didn't physically hurt me - so he didn't hurt me at all. Then when I finally figured out that it DID hurt me, I reasoned that I should just get over it. It wasn't that big of a deal. After all, I'm an adult now. I can look at it from a whole different perspective. As an adult, I can look at the situation and understand that HE was wrong to touch me. MY feelings and instincts were right all along. I said NO! I tried to stop it from happening. HE didn't listen. HE forced himself. All of this is true - but it didn't automatically give me my confidence back.
By trying to deal with how I WISHED I felt - or how I thought I SHOULD have felt - I just masked the problem of how I DID feel.
I have been given the opportunity to try to heal through counseling. I have made a decision to be as honest as I possibly can about my true feelings. No matter how embarrassed I am, I know she will not be able to help me if I am not honest - with myself and with her. So no matter how hard it is to share - I have to trust her. And if I have to cry, then I just have to cry!
Counseling is not easy. It is NOT for the weak.
I don't like not being able to fix my own problems.
I don't like crying in front of other people. It makes me feel vulnerable. I don't like admitting that this incident has caused me years of anguish and pain.
For years, I didn't deal with how I actually felt. As a matter of fact, I tried to deny to myself how I actually felt. I told myself that he didn't physically hurt me - so he didn't hurt me at all. Then when I finally figured out that it DID hurt me, I reasoned that I should just get over it. It wasn't that big of a deal. After all, I'm an adult now. I can look at it from a whole different perspective. As an adult, I can look at the situation and understand that HE was wrong to touch me. MY feelings and instincts were right all along. I said NO! I tried to stop it from happening. HE didn't listen. HE forced himself. All of this is true - but it didn't automatically give me my confidence back.
By trying to deal with how I WISHED I felt - or how I thought I SHOULD have felt - I just masked the problem of how I DID feel.
I have been given the opportunity to try to heal through counseling. I have made a decision to be as honest as I possibly can about my true feelings. No matter how embarrassed I am, I know she will not be able to help me if I am not honest - with myself and with her. So no matter how hard it is to share - I have to trust her. And if I have to cry, then I just have to cry!
Counseling is not easy. It is NOT for the weak.
Sunday, November 1, 2009
Confidence
A couple of things occur to me as I review my teenage and young adult years.
When I was a teenager, I played softball for my church team. It happens that I was a talented softball player - and whenever I was on the softball field I was a different person because I was confident in my ability to play the game. My confidence was fed of course by the people around me who noticed and complimented my talents - my coaches, teammates, other parents, even other coaches from opposing teams would compliment me. It felt good to feel important as a person. I felt FREE. I played as often as I could on a couple of different teams.
I experienced that same sense of confidence when I went to work after graduation from high school. I was a quick learner and a hard worker. I was willing to put in as many hours as needed to get the job done. I quickly became the 'go to' person in the office when extra help was needed by the owners and managers.
For whatever reason, that confidence never spilled over into my personal life - it always stayed contained to specific situations. But since my work took up a big chunk of my day, I guess it was just what I needed to keep me going.
It occurs to me now, that I do well with encouragement. If somebody else shows a little faith in me, I can usually respond. But I seem to need that little nudge, that little boost of confidence.
When I was a teenager, I played softball for my church team. It happens that I was a talented softball player - and whenever I was on the softball field I was a different person because I was confident in my ability to play the game. My confidence was fed of course by the people around me who noticed and complimented my talents - my coaches, teammates, other parents, even other coaches from opposing teams would compliment me. It felt good to feel important as a person. I felt FREE. I played as often as I could on a couple of different teams.
I experienced that same sense of confidence when I went to work after graduation from high school. I was a quick learner and a hard worker. I was willing to put in as many hours as needed to get the job done. I quickly became the 'go to' person in the office when extra help was needed by the owners and managers.
For whatever reason, that confidence never spilled over into my personal life - it always stayed contained to specific situations. But since my work took up a big chunk of my day, I guess it was just what I needed to keep me going.
It occurs to me now, that I do well with encouragement. If somebody else shows a little faith in me, I can usually respond. But I seem to need that little nudge, that little boost of confidence.
Poem - When You're Twenty
This is the last poem I have a record of. This was a time of transition in my life. I had graduated from high school and didn't go to college. I had found a job working in an office for a flooring company. I think by this time, I had lost all hope that I would one day be the person I was created to be. I was probably experiencing depression - but I don't think we knew a lot about depression in those days.
WHEN YOU'RE TWENTY
....sometimes, it's hard to get up in the morning
to say hello to a new day -
When you know it won't be any different than the day before.
When on the outside,
You go through the motions of living
A perfectly happy life,
While on the inside, you're struggling,
Deep within yourself, to find out
Who you are and keep your sanity.
When on the outside,
You try to make people think you're happy
But on the inside, you're crying,
Hoping someone will realize you're not.
It's hard to accept the fact that you're all alone.
That your friends don't really know you
And you're family can't figure you out.
But what's even harder to accept,
Is that you don't even know yourself -
And wonder if you ever will - because
You know you can't go on like this.
Sometimes, I think I'll be twenty forever....
But I wonder how long forever can last.
WHEN YOU'RE TWENTY
....sometimes, it's hard to get up in the morning
to say hello to a new day -
When you know it won't be any different than the day before.
When on the outside,
You go through the motions of living
A perfectly happy life,
While on the inside, you're struggling,
Deep within yourself, to find out
Who you are and keep your sanity.
When on the outside,
You try to make people think you're happy
But on the inside, you're crying,
Hoping someone will realize you're not.
It's hard to accept the fact that you're all alone.
That your friends don't really know you
And you're family can't figure you out.
But what's even harder to accept,
Is that you don't even know yourself -
And wonder if you ever will - because
You know you can't go on like this.
Sometimes, I think I'll be twenty forever....
But I wonder how long forever can last.
Poems- Searching/ Laughing, Crying
I was still writing in my late teens. Obviously still trying to heal. I think I was beginning to lose hope that things would eventually be better. It sounds like I may have been trying to accept that I was never going to change. Of particular note in the poem 'SEARCHING' I notice that I didn't capitalize the 'I'. Wonder what that says about my state of mind?
SEARCHING
What am i?
Who am i?
Where am i?
Why am i?
Today, tomorrow, yesterday
Living -
Torn between the right way,
the wrong way,
Searching for my own way
before I die.
LAUGHING, CRYING, LIVING, DYING
19 years of life,
Searching everyday
Laughing, Crying, Living, Dying
Trying to find a way.
I guess there are no answers,
Whatever will be, will be.
Living in a world of people,
TRYING TO BE FREE.
SEARCHING
What am i?
Who am i?
Where am i?
Why am i?
Today, tomorrow, yesterday
Living -
Torn between the right way,
the wrong way,
Searching for my own way
before I die.
LAUGHING, CRYING, LIVING, DYING
19 years of life,
Searching everyday
Laughing, Crying, Living, Dying
Trying to find a way.
I guess there are no answers,
Whatever will be, will be.
Living in a world of people,
TRYING TO BE FREE.
Poem - One More Dream
I don't remember counseling being a popular option in the 1970's. I didn't know how to help myself. I thought I could change who I was by the sheer power of my will. Of course, life doesn't usually work that way - as this poem expresses.
ONE MORE DREAM
Yesterday, I use to have a dream,
It filled an empty space faraway.
But now, it's forgotten and here I am,
With an empty space to fill once again.
Yesterday, I could hardly wait for today.
And now, I'm just disappointed in the way
My dream was smothered in doubts and fears
And lost in my mind over wasted years,
I spent dreaming about today.
And is that what dreams are all about -
To dream them up, then throw them out??
Now, I have a dream - still so far away.
And sometimes, I feel like giving it up,
But something inside won't let it go
And sometimes it seems so impossible.
But if one more dream withers and dies,
If one more dream doesn't realize -
Then who am I?
And what's tomorrow, but another day -
To be lost in dreams, I'll throw away?
ONE MORE DREAM
Yesterday, I use to have a dream,
It filled an empty space faraway.
But now, it's forgotten and here I am,
With an empty space to fill once again.
Yesterday, I could hardly wait for today.
And now, I'm just disappointed in the way
My dream was smothered in doubts and fears
And lost in my mind over wasted years,
I spent dreaming about today.
And is that what dreams are all about -
To dream them up, then throw them out??
Now, I have a dream - still so far away.
And sometimes, I feel like giving it up,
But something inside won't let it go
And sometimes it seems so impossible.
But if one more dream withers and dies,
If one more dream doesn't realize -
Then who am I?
And what's tomorrow, but another day -
To be lost in dreams, I'll throw away?
Poem - Untitled
I didn't title this poem. I'm not sure why not. As with most of these poems, I don't even remember writing them specifically! But once again, there is an underlying spirit of hope.
ON THE OUTSIDE,
I'M A COLD, UNFRIENDLY, BORING PERSON.
YOU DON'T LIKE ME..
I DON'T EITHER.
ON THE INSIDE,
I'M REALLY QUITE DIFFERENT.
I CARE, I LOVE,
AND I WANT TO BE YOUR FRIEND.
I'M TRYING HARD TO SHOW MY FEELINGS,
BUT FOR SOME REASON, IT'S HARD FOR ME.
BE PATIENT MY FRIEND,
SOMEDAY, I'LL BE AS BRIGHT AS YOU.
ON THE OUTSIDE,
I'M A COLD, UNFRIENDLY, BORING PERSON.
YOU DON'T LIKE ME..
I DON'T EITHER.
ON THE INSIDE,
I'M REALLY QUITE DIFFERENT.
I CARE, I LOVE,
AND I WANT TO BE YOUR FRIEND.
I'M TRYING HARD TO SHOW MY FEELINGS,
BUT FOR SOME REASON, IT'S HARD FOR ME.
BE PATIENT MY FRIEND,
SOMEDAY, I'LL BE AS BRIGHT AS YOU.
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