Have you ever watched a slow motion train wreck?

Some days I wake up and get onto my schedule attacking it with vigor and some days I find it difficult to get started. I stumble bleary-eyed in my office and suck down coffee like it is my life blood. My fingers are swollen and painful. My eyesight is barely able to make out bleary objects. Not everyday is a picnic for sure. However, after that first hour of slow clumsy movement through my morning, I get around to the day’s work. I wasn’t always this persistent or methodical, so I can’t claim higher ground on what I am about to relate. I didn’t ever have all my shit together in my 20’s for sure.

I say this by way of saying I am not blaming the person I am about to vent about for their obvious lack of shit together. I have a 25 year old daughter that is estranged from me. I had her as a child. I just turned 16 when I gave birth. I raised her myself without help from my parents. I did marry her father briefly. We actually lived together for less than 5 years, but remained married for just under 8. I saw no hurry to actually divorce when he had someone else and I had someone else, until that is, he started having children with other people and those women started carrying his last name.

Her father and I were also estranged after the 5 year mark, living about 1000 miles from one another. I left. I decided the best way to start over was somewhere far away. Her father had substance abuse issues that he was working on, and I had previous substance abuse issues that I was trying to keep in check. It is harder than hell to stay sober when taking care of someone that is constantly on something especially when you used to partake of what they were on. I was only 21 and taking care of three children and an alcoholic/drug addict husband. Few people would blame me for my choice to leave and get as far away as I could.

Fast forward a decade and change, and I have a 16 year old child (My eldest) that does blame me for leaving her father. Children rarely understand the entire story so it didn’t bother me. I did try to explain. I did have her visit her father with me present to make sure he was sober around them. Unfortunately, he still drank and used pot so we had to leave early. This made her incensed and for the next two years she hated me. I was more than happy to be hated for leaving when my ex showed he was still battling his demons.

My daughter moved out at 18 and for all purposes has not looked back according to her. (I’ll explain that later) In many ways, this is a relief. She was an emotional train wreck when she left. I imagine there was something I could have done to be a better parent, but for the life of me I can’t think of what it was that would have changed her course. Her siblings were all thankful she left and for about a week after she left we had peace for the first time in years. She was the kind of child that would scream just for attention, refuse to bathe, act like she was poor and destroy brand new items just to claim poverty, and fight with her siblings. I mean even at 18 she did these things. Everyone just heaved a collective sigh of relief when she left and wished her the best to be honest. My house has been more peaceful ever since even with the horror stories I am about to relate.

After she left my other children, all 5, started telling me awful things their sister did. How she sexually assaulted two of them. How she caused various scars. It was so bad I had to call the police to sort it out. After the police investigated, they found her to be a danger to her siblings and put a restraining order against any minor under our roof. They did not however drag her into court and prosecute, which pissed me off. I believe it was because the children did not tell me immediately after it happened. The children told me their sister threatened to kill them if they told. I believe them.

I have done everything I can to try and help my children heal. I have tried counseling. Most want nothing to do with it. I have tried just listening. My children that are adults, still keep in touch with the eldest, even after everything she did. I asked my 21 year old daughter (her younger sister) why and she said, "To make sure she never comes back." Even now, literally 8 years after her older sister left, my 21 year old is afraid she will come back. So she friended her on facebook and stalks her to make sure never ever comes back "to hurt us".

That breaks my heart. It breaks my heart because I was the one that was supposed to protect them and I had no idea most of this was happening. I knew they fought. All siblings fight. I stood between her and the small children often. Jealous outrage occurred when I gave the littlest more attention because they were younger and needed it. All children get jealous of their younger siblings. No, it wasn’t until she was nearly 15 that I figured out this child might not be right. I inquired about getting her an evaluation, but no one would accept her. I have no idea why. I have spent many a night crying into my pillow, sobbing actually, because I failed to get her help or at least out of my house. Again though, I didn’t know about the abuse or the scars. I didn’t know she was doing these things and it kills me. How could I though if no one would tell me what was happening?

So for now, I focus on the kids that are in my life and are receptive to help. That is all I can do. My 21 year old took an entire year of therapy to help her deal with the emotions. She is the most stable because of that. I am trying to get my 17 year old into therapy, but she is refusing to even finish school. My 15 and 11 year olds claim they were not affected by her since they were 7 and 3 when she left. They are also the only males, which could play a big part in why they were not affected as much.

My 21 year old keeps talking to me about her elder sister that abused her. I don’t just mean, "Mom she did this," or "Mom, I have nightmares." I mean, "Mom look she changed her name again." Then out comes the smart phone with an updated photo of who can only be my eldest daughter and someone else’s name. "Why does she do that mom?" I have no idea kiddo. Recently, she turned on her smartphone scrolling furiously. "I gotta show you what she said," she explained. I imagined all manner of horrific things. Then my daughter reads out what the post had written, "Like my new do. My mom would call me a dyke for it." My 21 year old looked at me and said, "you would never do that."

I casually glance at the post, and notice short hair standing straight up and dyed blue on my eldest daughter’s head. I smile remembering my own blue hair the year before I got pregnant with her. Then I notice the nose ring and think, "Hmmm that’s new." I see the name above her is male and it says her pronouns are he/him. I cock an eyebrow. I sigh. I haven’t spoken an unkind word to this child in this context ever. I have tried to at least mend the relationship (to the extent you can with someone like that) but that went nowhere very fast. It’s ironic too since I had to end my "wayward ways" with my girlfriend so that my ex-husband wouldn’t get custody of her way back when she was a preschooler. I literally gave up my happiness for this child time and time again, year after year, by choosing a male partner when I had a perfectly wonderful female one ready and willing to be in my life. It was both a lie and a slap in my face and she knew it. My 21 year old daughter did too, especially since her own girlfriend was sitting in the back seat at the time.

"Can you believe it mom?" My daughter brought me back to the present. I couldn’t. She claims she wants nothing to do with us. She claims we were so horrible to her. She claims to have moved on and to hate us. Yet, almost every post was about how horrible I was or her step father or her brothers whom she barely knows. I am not going to say I have moved one, because once a child leaves, even a horrible rotten no good spoiled child leaves, you do miss them. If for nothing else their presence. That first week after she left, the quiet was unnerving in my home. I had nothing but screaming and fighting almost every day for the last two years she lived here. The quiet made me feel on edge like it would all be shattered at a moment’s notice and suddenly my peace would be gone.

I didn’t know how to answer my 21 year old. How do you answer that? Why would her sister say such things she knew were untrue? Why does she even breathe of my existence if she’s moved on?

I’m going to give you my theory. Take it or leave it, I’m not an expert, but I think she is either a Sociopath or a Psychopath. I have spent literally years analyzing every minute I spent with her trying to understand her. I see that her life is chaos. Her father was a diagnosed sociopath. She has a lot of the traits that one would expect in a sociopath or psychopath. She is certainly old enough that it’s not growing pains. At 25 years of age one can be pretty concreted into thinking patterns. She runs from one home to another, always taking what she wants and leaving after they refuse to give what she wants. She changes her name constantly. Every person from her past is always bad/wrong and the people she is with now are always perfect. She can’t hold down a job long. She is certainly manipulative and dangerous to others (although being dangerous is NOT a requirement for either condition). I can go on. You would expect this behaviour by someone under 21 for sure as I attribute it to "growing pains’, but by 25 years of age the brain isn’t really growing anymore.

Her sister who is 21 years of age regularly has employment and stays at one job for years, usually has a mixed review of her fellow humans, does not run from home to home, does not bad mouth everyone from her past, and has a pretty stable and or normal life for someone far older than her. The two could not be more different. My eldest only wants to know what you can do for her whereas my 21 year old daughter only seeks to find what she can do for you. My eldest says that she is now male because she likes females and dressing like a male. My 21 year old says she is bisexual and a tom boy…likes females and dressing like a boy. The same outcome, but one is NOT having an identity crisis or trying to get attention for that matter. (I’m sure the bisexuality came from me if it’s genetic) I can’t help but wonder how two children can be parented by the same person, (have different fathers though), eat the same food, have the same education, the same love and attention, the same discipline and chores, and insanely dramatically different outcomes.

I assure you, I gave just as much love and attention to my first as I did my second and every child after that down to my sixth. Yet, my first demanded that I continue giving her ALL of my attention up until she left my home whereas every single other child wanted to be independent and have their own time away from me. She wanted my attention so badly that she would ruin her clothes, pick on her siblings, etc… I mean at 18 years old she did that kind of thing. None of my other children after the age of 10 did that. NONE. I take comfort in that fact and have come to the conclusion that she was the poor unfortunate soul that inherited her father’s mental illness. So when I see this slow motion train wreck going on, even as she takes barbs at me, it hurts my heart. It hurts because I know that without help that she refuses to seek, she will never find happiness, and will leave a trail of broken lives behind her.

Why can’t I sleep?

I had 4 hours of sleep last night and tonight I laid down at 2:30 a.m. I stared at the ceiling and the walls, trying with all my might to sleep. It is only in the past two weeks that this has been happening. My inability to sleep going later and later into the night. Usually my insomnia is triggered by something in my life. Usually I ca definitively point to something causing my distress. Usually I find some sort of relief. This is not the case currently.

Although there was a death in the family, it wasn’t anyone close to me. It wasn’t even a blood relative. I honestly do not feel that this death is affecting me this way. Typically, this would only be something in my own life. Someone I loved in my life or something missing…but now it’s just random. So I am left to ponder, does my typical caffeine habits suddenly have this effect? Can that happen as you age? If so, why do I feel this sadness that keeps me up?

Whatever it is, it’s ruining my life.

I can scarcely think the words to write

Our lives go through monumental twists and turns, such that in the blink of an eye, everything we ever thought or felt can be turned upside down with a word. Everything we have ever known can be gone in an instant. Everything negative we have ever told ourselves can be evaporated with two or three kind sentences. We are beings meant for change. We are meant for the challenges of tomorrow and the sorrows of today. We are beings meant to change continually. If spoken it can be brought forth into this life. If thought it can be spoken. But what forms the spark to create the thought?

Life reinforces certain concepts just by going through the motions. A child raised in a Christian home will see verses, long after they left the comfort of the pew, that bring renewed vision and hope. Sometimes an explanation once so far out of reach, and yet there it is, in a tiny Book called the Bible they discarded so long ago. I’m not about to get preachy here, but for that person it may hold important significance at a time in their life when things seem at their worst. It can be a call to stand strong and endure or a reminder they are loved.

I had such an event happen today. These verses appeared to me through a very non-Christian way.

1 . Revelation Chapter 3 Verse 9

Behold, I will make them of the synagogue of Satan, which say they are Jews, and are not, but do lie; behold, I will make them to come and worship before thy feet, and to know that I have loved thee.

2 . Revelation Chapter 2 Verse 9

I know thy works, and tribulation, and poverty, (but thou art rich) and I know the blasphemy of them which say they are Jews, and are not, but are the synagogue of Satan.

They hold a very personal meaning to me…and sometimes you never know where you find such inspiration.

Well it’s over

For the last 20 years I have thought about you. Before bed each night, upon waking each morning, you were my first and last thought. It hurt that I could not show you how much I have loved you. I probably never will be able to, but at least I finally got to say goodbye. I sent you a letter today. Of course, you may not receive it. Perhaps you will ignore it. Perhaps you don’t receive mail there anymore. I don’t know.

I do know, I finally said most of the things I have wanted to say for the better part of a decade. I’m sure I missed some things. I’m sure I could have been more descriptive, but instead I opted for a single page. If you were going to read it, you wouldn’t read a book. You’re a busy man after all. You have a life and so do I.

While I am left with a sadness I can’t describe, perhaps the knowing that this is all no more and accepting it…which is more than acknowledging that it may be. I am also relieved. Even if you never read it, at least it was said. At least I had the courage to tell you exactly what I thought. We may never speak or meet again. I might die before you every decide to respond. It’s fine. I don’t need a response. I said it and I kept my promise to tell you at least some of the things that were about you. For this part of my life, I can now live in peace. Sadness, but a peaceful sadness that settles on you like dust when you rest too long.

Still on lock down, but there is a light


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Our state will re-open May 4th.  I don’t know whether I should be elated as we may have work again or dismayed as the death tolls may rise.  The way the state is going about re-opening is the most insane thing ever.  I can’t get into details, but essentially they are staggering which places may open first.


Why is the barber more dangerous than a movie theater?

Why is church worse than parks?

None of this makes sense.  I have been giving out seeds, food, and everything else I can to help my friends and family.  We’ve made it through this far by the grace of God and the skin of our teeth.  Perhaps, we will make it till the 4th.

May the fourth be with you!

Little Children Do Not Know any Better

When I was small, my mother was a woman that didn’t really want to be a mother. I spent my days shuffling between Kindergarten, time with my agent and my "benefactors", the Christian nursery down the block from my house, and my grandmother’s home. As you can tell I didn’t have a normal up bringing even at such a tender age. My mother made it my responsibility to pay the bills. This put me in a very precarious situation often. My refuge was school and my Christian nursery.

Imagine someone yelling at a Kindergarten child because she didn’t make a 50 year old man "happy" and he refused to remain her benefactor. Worse still, after enough time passed without any "benefactors", I was left by the side of the road for not making income. It was a blessing truly to live among the wild animals though I was starving and nearly died of hypothermia as opposed to being forced to please others. I was found by an 18 year old young man that was accused of raping a 14 year old almost 6 weeks after I was abandoned. The sheriff was certain I had been raped due to certain "things" physically about me at that tiny age and because I was stark naked limp as a rag doll when he found me.

I remembered the fear in his voice as he lifted me from the mud. I remember him begging his friend to get the tarp they planned to bring home a deer on to wrap me with and keep me warm. He carried me to the cab of his truck and cranked the heat. He cried out, "Oh God, she’s so cold." I could hear his voice crack in pain. He pushed Mountain Dew between my teeth and prayed over me to God. As soon as the truck stopped he jumped out with me in his arms screaming, "Mamma,Mamma, you got to help her!" The first words out of his mother’s mouth were, "Oh God what have you done now?!"

Luckily, he had his friend with him to prove he did nothing wrong towards me. I testified on his behalf at the rape trial. He still got 18 months. After that I went to a good and decent foster home. My Christian Yeoman foster parents. I thank God for them and my Amish foster parents.

Lord God Help Us All

Covid-19 is closer than ever. In my state, in my town, and now people are dying. My husband has been off work and I was recently hired, but then they put me on hold because of Covid-19. While our federal government HAS provided relief in the CARES ACT, my state has decided they will not adhere to the law and thus state I and many other like me do NOT get benefits. They even said my husband will lose his benefits soon in defiance of the CARES ACT.

No money.

No allowed to leave the home to look for work

Not allowed to buy "non-essentials."

No way to get help from the state.

They won’t even help with food aid!

What do they expect, we just sit starve, get thrown off our land, and die!

This is how revolutions start.

Wuhan Flu or Covid-19 has us locked in


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So busy was I living life, that I didn’t give pause to the pandemic that has crossed an ocean to find me in my tiny little hamlet.  The disease is on our doorstep.  Local elders are dying from “pneumonia” because they were never tested for Covid-19.  Locals call it the Wuhan Flu, which isn’t inaccurate if you think of the history of naming these things.  Ebola, Spanish Flu, MERS…all named after their perceived origin.  It isn’t racist, it is traditional to do this naming thing in this way.  At any rate it is here.

I have been ill since early February.  The illness relented for a week and settled back down into my lungs.  I went to a Chinese buffet in January and our server had just returned from Hubiew.  She had a cold she said and visited her grandfather that had died.  Old people die all the time and January is cold season.  I thought absolutely nothing of it.  Less than two weeks later my entire family is ill.  When taken to the doctor, they refused to test and just say it’s what everyone has….whatever it is.  Why?  Because no one tested positive for the flu or RSV.

We suffered through the fevers and the feelings like your lungs were on fire.  The dry cough came and went for everyone but me.  The shortness of breath stays with me.  Again, I contacted my doctor again.  “Oh you must have a secondary infection, here’s some antibiotics.”  Thanks.  This is Day 3 and the shortness of breath has not improved.

I have been staying indoors for the most part since the beginning of this illness.  My husband recovered, got ill again, and is on the mend again.  Whatever this is, you can catch it again and again.  We plan to stay outdoors in the garden as much as possible as time marches on.  Perhaps the fresh air and sunshine will help.  God knows antibiotics are not.

I have taken to drinking tonic water twice a day and have seen an improvement in my general health.  I am not certain that is related to drinking it or not…but it is short lived.  Here’s hoping I see the year through and have enough energy to do what is needed to survive.

I’m going to care the shit out of you

Having spent a decade and a half helping someone that was paralyzed from the waist down regain their ability to walk and use the restroom, I expected to at least be allowed to rest once she gained some ability to walk. Some rest. Nothing grand, just okay kid, you can now do more of these things on your own. You can read your history book by yourself. You can do a math problem without me holding your hand. You don’t have to go to the Emergency room because you feel a slight pain in your hips.


This person, that I dedicated my life to helping walk…that I drove thousands of miles to see specialists, that swore to GOD they wanted to be independent is now blaming me for everything.

I wouldn’t get up at 2 a.m. and drive her to the emergency room for vague pains in her back. I told her that the doctor will be called in the morning. Not good enough. She had a friend drive her and then her friend and her bad mouthed me for not getting up at 2 a.m. for nothing.

It was over the holiday, so no pharmacies were open so when they did open I went to pick up her script. They didn’t have it. Apparently, the doctor sent it to the wrong pharmacy. The doctor’s office was closed so I called and left a message with the answering service. The doctor didn’t get around to sending the script to the right pharmacy until 2 days later. Somehow it’s MY fault. She told her friends I LOST her medicine…I never lost a damn thing. Her doctor lost which pharmacy it was supposed to go to.

Oh, and the kicker…I tried to give her the script and at first she refused. Then she took the bottle and said she wouldn’t take it anyway…then ran to tell everyone how I was neglecting her and refusing to give her medicine. I literally have screen shots of what she said to me (I don’t need the meds and don’t want them) and screen shots of how she lied to everyone about me. Fucking bitch.

Obviously, this child is not ready for any independence. So I am going to care the shit out of her…until she hates it. I am going to make her go back into diapers since she refuses to take her medicine and pisses on everything. I am going to make her go back to physical therapy since that is what she needs according to the doctor for the pains. I am going to take er to the eye doctor and dentist and insist they fill every cavity she begged me not to have filled right now because she was afraid. I am going to take her to the Emergency Room every damn time she threatens suicide. I am going to care the shit out of her…and then when she is 18 and no longer my problem.

I will never talk to her again.