Our light is dim here in America but we will overcome the adversities

As I wander down the road of life I wonder where it would end

It's not been an easy travel but at the end I've been blessed with many family and friends.

When the light was dim in my life family would come to my rescue the love they gave, made everything seem possible again. 

Seeing the turmoil in the world makes me pray for all to have the love of family and friends to brighten their journey to the end.

Our light is dim right now but America has always won because she cared for the less fortunate regardless of the power in office right now, her light is bright in the harbor.  The statue of Liberty has weather many a storms.

Going on a ride

We watched three children; two boys and a girl walk toward the white van. It is one of those big white ones with all the windows tinted dark gray private agencies use, that taxpayers’ pay for.

 They are happy to be together again. All the children know is they are off on a new adventure, what they do not realize is this adventure they are on is the last one they will ever have together as siblings. As they wave goodbye to their grandma’s standing outside who is blowing them kisses and waving back. Telling them goodbye with big smiles on their faces, everyone, I mean everyone has smiles on their faces.

 As the big white van drives away and the babies cannot see us anymore, we bust down and cry, cry, cry, from the depths of our Souls. They have taken our babies from us knowing we will never see them, will never hold them, and we can never play with them, we can never make them pancakes again. I lost part of my heart that day. It has never been the same.

Since that day grandma Jean died two months after the children's mother died, and I grandma Denise am trying to document all my memories of a family destroyed by a pedophile.

Months after the children taken from us by the state of Michigan, just before Christmas, December 17th to be exact I got to speak with Beylen for the last time he was 8 years old. He is telling me that he would be living with his birth father eventually, but in the meantime; he would go stay with his grandma, on his father's side. The caseworker had informed me that his father had refused to let me see him again or to have anything to do with him. Beylen was then separated from his siblings; they were put up for adoption to another family. They had same mother different fathers.

While, talking to my grandson I stayed encouraging and supportive. Oh, what a wonderful Christmas present to be able to live with your grandma. Hugs, kisses, and a ton of I love you exchanged. Bye Beylen, I Love you. Love you too Grandma.

After I hung up, this horrendous sound came from the depths of my soul I had never heard before, it came exploding out of me. I could not stop it. I do not know where it came from, but it just comes screaming out of my mouth then the sobbing and the tears and more sobbing, but my baby Beylen never knew his grandma lost another piece of her heart that day. It was his last time to talk to me for ten years.

 

Shove it where the sun doesn't shine

I went to jail for protecting myself from my husband one-time; he used to beat me daily. This particular time he had given me a black eye, bloody nose, and swollen lip after he threw a knife at me that stuck in the wall instead of me.

I had left him a month before and moved to another town miles away. Found a job, rented a room over an old storefront building it was small, cheap, and I felt safe.. The room was quaint with plaster walls, a light hung from the center of ten foot high ceiling with only bare wires with no shade. The wooden floors clean and shiny but needed refinishing. A twin bed snug against the wall, with a small end table next to it, and a window with lace curtains in the center of the wall of the narrow room. I shared a bathroom down the hall with other people who rented similar rooms. It was mine, all mine.

 I was in the middle of preparing breakfast food for the restaurants line cooks. Baking old fashion buttermilk biscuits, frying bacon and sausage, coffee was brewing, the smell was deliciously hanging throughout the kitchen. Country music was playing on the radio, we were happy and laughing. I was feeling almost like my old self, full of confidence and anything was possible for the future.  Little did I know what was lurking outside for me. He found out where I worked. 

After he came in the back door of the restaurant he grabbed me. He was dragging me out the back door when I grabbed the door jamb on both side of the opening. I'm screaming for him to let go of me, my boss grab me under my arm pits but she and I couldn't break his grip. He got me outside into the car and drove off.  The police had been called but they didn't get there in time. He drove us back to the one bedroom trailer we had rented from a church pastor and his wife. 

The police showed up and took us both to jail.

He got out of jail on his own recognize that same day because he was from KY.

I am from Michigan.  Because of that the judge thought I was a flight risk. Ya think so?  I ended up spending 30 days because the judge wouldn't give me back my $100 bail money. So, I told the judge to shove it where the sun doesn't shine. Was not one of my better reactions to an authority figure. Needless to say, the judge didn't find my response humorous.
This happened in London KY. 

I am safer alone

She sits at the kitchen table listening to the water drip, drip, drip. Her memory goes back to a time in life when she remembers how vulnerable she could be. He controlled everything, she feared to make choices, trained from childhood to be obedient. Sexual abuse started when she was 3.

Now at 44, the dripping from the faucet reminds her of a time long ago when he put his hand through the window. They are fighting over his infidelity.

He knocks her down then sits with his knees on her forearms. She can't move, terror red is all she sees. The blood he is dripping on her forehead is running into her eyes.

He says, "In Viet Nam, we use to terrorize our captives this way. It can get worse".

Crying, begging, rocking her head back and forth desperate to keep the blood from running into her eyes. It's causing her to see everything through a red haze. Blood dripped, splattered, ran down the walls. He left after that never to come back.

Crying, sobbing from the aftermath of abuse. She doesn't know what to clean first.

Drenched in blood my vision blurred, I remember it well. Rinsed my eyes out than wiped my face. Didn't figure I should change my clothes.

By the time I washed the blood from walls, ceiling, furniture, and the floor my clothes drenched with his diluted blood, I took off my clothes and threw them away. Standing in the shower sobbing until the water ran clear and cold. I got out of the shower a new woman.

Until the next time, I meet the new one to bring terror in my life.

Now at 62, I stay alone. After 3 relationships that brought me to the brink of death, I'm safer alone.

#MeToo #iamwriting #amwriting

Words, Paint, Voice

A writer paints a picture with words,
A painter paints a story with paint,
But, a singer paints a story and a picture with their song. by Denise Fletcher

Woke up being beaten

Woke hours ago somebody was beating me with a club and throwing very hot water on me making my skin to burn. I was trying to get away my body froze up with stiffness, couldn't get out of the way of this violent attack.
Then I woke for real. Its was just a dream but the pain was real.
Just what it's like to have fibromyalgia.

Wean me off these drugs

Been a member of the Fibromyalgia English/Afrikaans quite some time and it helped me through some rough times. This past month I had enough of medication that just did not work. Told my doctor enough was enough, wean me off these drugs. It was tough. I survived the withdrawals. Less pain now, less stiffness, but thank goodness I am not being videotaped daily.

The mood swings from tears, anger, laughter, confusion, frustration and did develop high blood pressure now. I take aspirin and medical marijuana as needed, it does work. Not daily either. Just when the pain is intolerable. Now if I could just get the emotional fixed, but the pharmaceutical drugs has so many negative effects on me I would rather be known as the crazy lady who lives with 2 dogs, artist who paints pictures, and smokes pot.

My energy level skyrocketed from sleeping 14 hours a day and 10 hours of exhaustion to sleeping 6 hours a day and getting so much done that I had never dreamed possible again in my life. I was diagnosed 1996, symptoms started at least 10 years before. Saw many psychiatrists over that 10 years, no one knew what Fibro was. Had many family and friends giving me advice on exercise and diet. Even this past year had someone tell me I just needed to move more, did not respond to her skinny self (20+ years younger than me) with a husband and two sons to help her to do all the things I do not have help with. This is why I call Fibromyalgia the stupid disease, for the stupid things people say to us with the disease. They are not educated in the disease and chose not to understand the disease.

My hair fell out for 6 months afterwards

Things had been very good for a month feeling the love for him again. No fearing him so my guard was coming down. Got inside the house and he went to his laptop and I was watching TV.
I looked over at him and he was very deep in concentration on whatever it was he was doing. He liked playing games but this was different. When I asked him what he was doing he searched for words. First red flag.
I walked over to him and he closed the laptop. Second red flag. My senses started to come alive, knew he was up to something, only could be no good.
I waited until he went into the bathroom to take a shower when I opened his computer and checked out his history. Sure enough, he had been talking with Valerie. The other woman, He came out of the bathroom and said he was going out for a while he needed some time alone.

I told him I knew he was going to Valerie's. Of course, he denied it.

Told him he may as well take his clothes and leave the house key. He refused and left anyway without anything.

The next day he came back I just ignored him. He went upstairs and was on the computer.
He came down a few hours later and started an argument with me. He tells me that I don't care about him and what he wants. I told him to go back to Valerie since she seems to be better for him. I just wanted him to leave for good. Then he says "No I love you, not her".
I told him you cannot have us both so you may as well go live with her.
The anger in his voice and the look on his face told me it was going to be a long night.

He pushed me down on the love seat and straddled me so I couldn't get away. How ironic he pins me to the love seat.
He is yelling at me and accusing me of cheating. Call the kettle black. Between choking me with both of his hands until I am blacking out. Then pulling my hair on both sides of my head, it felt like I was being scalped.  After this point, I don't remember what happened for the rest of the night. The mind can take only so much before it blocks out the unbearable pain that is being afflicted on one's self.
All I know is that for days afterward it was a blur, to this day I do not remember what he did to me after that point. It is more than likely why it is taking me forever to write. My subconscious refuses to let me in.
That maybe a good thing.