As those of you that have been following me know, I was absent and now I am back! Delusions of grandeur for sure thinking people have been waiting with baited breath for me to resume my sharing. (though a few did reach out and express just that, which is very cool and much appreciated). My little blog space is just that, little. I’m reminded of Jennifer Garner and her “Pretend Cooking Show” in which she creates videos of her cooking. It’s adorable. This feels like “Pretend Short Stories.” All my musings are true so they aren’t pretend in that sense but they are pretend in that I have this dream that someday, my little thoughts and experiences will someday grow up to be a real book, on paper, for sale, that people buy, en masse, at Powell’s.

As I’m sitting here seeking inspiration, I remembered that last year I asked a few people which topics they’d be interested in reading. Fortunately, I saved those and began searching my computer. While I did find those topics, I also found a few drafts, bullet points, themes – inspiration waiting for me to type them to life. I have so many ideas that are bursting to see the light. I recently consulted a spiritual advisor (psychic, don’t hate) and she said that I MUST write; not in an obligatory sense but in that these thoughts will not be contained. She advised me to just write without structure, planning, or organization. Just let my fingers do the typing and let it flow. That’s often how these posts go. I begin with a little nugget of an idea unsure where it will take me. A commitment I made to myself when I launched this little blog was that I wouldn’t reread, edit, or criticize but rather just let it be whatever it is. So that’s what I do. I type without judgment and just go. I do proofread it for typos but not content. It is what it is. I do hold my breath a little when I click “publish” though, if I’m being honest. It’s another incremental choice to be brave.

When I was looking at my documents with my ideas, I came across one that without my glasses, looked like a poem in it’s structure. And I thought, why is there a poem in this file for blog ideas? I don’t even really like poetry. Why would I save one? I put my glasses on I realized I had written these phrases. I have this crazy idea that MY story will be written by me and someone will be interested in reading it. This document is the beginning of putting together those ideas. As I read through the phrases I thought you know? This is actually pretty cool, as is. I was also impressed at the words I chose. It was like an actual author wrote them! Crazy! How detached I can be from this process. Anyway, I thought I’d just post these raw thoughts here as sort of a quasi table of contents for the imaginary book swirling around in my head and heart. So hang onto your butts! Don’t know when or how frequently I will tackle each of these concepts or in which order but I surely will, here.

Here we go…

who is mom

who is dad

their families

how they met and married

the baby years

the early years

the beginning of the end – first grade separation

in and out

treatment, fear, broken promises

fires

pendleton

pendleton alone

dad treatment

final separation

utter betrayal and disappointment

back to portland

bribery and abandonment

mom drinking again and again

dad leaving – stepmom taking over

out of one frying pan into another fire

marriage, “happiness,” isolation, and blind faith

shock and awe

childbirth

control and lack thereof

dismantling of faith

acting out and blaming

starting over

Intermission: M.O.M. x 18 years

“succeeding” and dating

failing and dating

descent into the abyss

tap dancing as fast as I can

hopelessness and desperation

admission and surrender

relief and recovery

recovery without relief

the journey continues

……………………………………………..

I added these next few tonight…

real recovery this time

part II

fear and courage

discovery and exploration

unwritten

……………………………………

Sometimes we don’t know the impact we have on others. That’s a big bummer. Wouldn’t it be nice if we shared that but by and large, we don’t. I had a delightful surprise this week. My second cousin (first cousin twice removed? Fuck if I know. The daughter of my cousin) texted me out of the blue. She’d never texted me before. She said she’s pursuing her masters in social work. She has an assignment to interview someone that has faced big challenges in their childhood. Her mom, my cousin, shared some of my blog postings with her so when this assignment came up, she thought of me. She asked me if I’d be willing to share my story. This is the perfect example. I didn’t know what my cousin thought of my blog. I didn’t know she shared it with her daughter. And what they BOTH don’t know is in that action, they inspired and encouraged me to continue on my journey of sharing my story. A few have told me that my voice needs to be heard and it’s easy for me to discount the value of those statements. Of course they say that. They love me and want to encourage me. But when something like this happens, a small part of me believes it because an even smaller part of me already knows that it’s true. So I’m just gonna write. Whatever comes of it is beyond my control. I never could have dreamed that I would live where I live so who knows what is to come. I’m here for it, mostly.