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Forget The Goo

Wednesday, March 16, 2011

It surprises me how people that have never met can become “real” friends online. I think that part of that is the ability to be ourselves, to say what we want and not fear the retribution of those we see on a daily basis.

I have a friend that reads both of my blogs and we correspond through email as well. He said something the other day that really made me think. He said that in my blogs something is missing. He said in my email he sees my “softer side.”

I really had to think about that for a few days. I believed that I pretty much tell you everything between my two blogs. It set me back wondering what I’m not doing, what part of me is being hidden.
I then realized that I know exactly what’s missing. I’m missing. I tell you stories of my family, my chaos, my demons, but I don’t really tell you about me, the real me.

See, through the years I think that part has been hidden away for my safety. That part gets hurt, that part cries, that part is closely guarded. I think that all I tell you is a deflection. I’m deflecting you from knowing that barb wired part of myself.

Part of it, I think, is that people don’t want to read “goo.” Part of it that I must be guarding myself, even from you.

I’ll try to give you a few glimpses today of my more vulnerable side and hopefully in future posts I will be more sensitive to my true identity.

I’m not sure how good I’ll be at this but I’ll give it a go.

My mom was killed four years ago. I’m still in shock, I still can’t look at her pictures.

After mom died I flew home to Texas for a week every month for 13 months to be with my Dad. Dad needed me, not in a care giving way, but in a caring way. He was lonely, he was afraid.

When he died I felt like a kite that had the string cut. I had no base, no foundation. My brothers and I were alone in the world.

I made sure when my grandson was dying that he was never laid down, that he was always in someone’s loving, warm arms. When he died I broke, part of me died, part of me was locked away. When the doctors called the final meeting I knew what they were going to say and I “missed” it. I couldn’t face the truth, I wouldn’t accept it, I couldn’t hear it. I can't look at the cemetery, that I have to pass nearly every day, that holds my tiny grandson.

I’m the woman that has given the last 20 years of my life raising children that I didn’t give birth to.
Two of those kids turned on us and another part of my heart was closed off. I’ve barb wired my heart from that pain.

I think that’s enough for now. I’ll try to let more out as I go along. If you see the humor, the anger, the pain, you’ll know I’m deflecting something.

If you wonder about anything let me know, I’ll answer. I’m open as you all know, and I’ll try to be more so but I’m not going to get all gooey and sentimental.


21 comments:

MarkD60 March 17, 2011 at 5:29 AM  

When I saw the video of you a few posts ago, I realized you aren't the hardass you seem to be on blogger.

Mad Mind March 17, 2011 at 6:07 AM  

Everyone has a story to tell because each of our lives are different. Yours is unique and you should let us all know how things affected you. Not in a sentence though. Examine each feeling and let the writing begin. It is very cathartic.

I love ya!

Tricia March 17, 2011 at 6:19 AM  

Ohhhh... :( I can't imagine not having my parents around. I think a kite with the string cut is a perfect analogy.

HUGS

Brenda Susan March 17, 2011 at 6:54 AM  

Hey Diva, I could always see the goo between the lines in every post. I understand the friend's comment but it is OK to have a blog-voice that is an outlet without making yourself totally vulnerable. It's a fine line and you have been doing it beautifully.
Otherwise how in the world could I say with all honesty that I love you even though we've never met?

Dazee Dreamer March 17, 2011 at 7:14 AM  

I loved this post. I love seeing "you".

How was your mother killed. I don't think I've ever read that. I'm so sorry for all the losses in your life. You are an incredible woman having gone through all these different things.

blueviolet March 17, 2011 at 7:57 AM  

Big, big hugs to you. I understand how you'd be guarded after all of this.

jen March 17, 2011 at 8:52 AM  

I agree. The video was enlightening. And I can't imagine what you've lived through. I'd love to hear the story of your your grandson.
Thanks for opening up. But I enjoy the "take-no-prisoners" side as well.
:)

Allyson & Jere March 17, 2011 at 9:16 AM  

I don't feel like I never saw that side of you. Like that other commentor, I feel like the "goo" was there, between the lines. CLEARLY you're "soft" and caring when you willingly adopt so many children and provide so lovingly for them. We all have so many layers, I'm not sure we can ever possibly share them ALL.

Dee March 17, 2011 at 10:07 AM  

I felt the same way when my Mom passed away, it was like someone pulled the rug out from under my feet! I wish I could "talk" this openly on my blog, too many IRL people read it though!

Sey March 17, 2011 at 12:25 PM  

I'm so sorry to hear about what happened to your mom and for sharing this with us. You have my high respect and I understand why you're guarding yourself.

Monkey Man March 17, 2011 at 12:26 PM  

We can tell our stories but never truly open up. I can so relate to your description of walls built to protect and shield. We know you have a soft and caring side because we see it when reading between the lines. Peace and love.

carrie March 17, 2011 at 4:38 PM  

The softer side of us is always more vulnerable online because people will always respond more meanly then they would in person. So it doesn't surprise me that you bury it.

*hugs* and Kudos for sharing a little of the softness!

Jessica Warrick March 17, 2011 at 4:40 PM  

im so sorry to hear about your grandsona nd your mother and father. I know it has to be hard but they are safe from harm now and will not wnat for anything. I hope you are doing better than you were the last time we talked. you werent ina good place i know how difficult life can be for youa nd i hope you are getting along fine. email me if you ever need to talk. jessicawarrick@ymail.com

Cheeseboy March 17, 2011 at 9:00 PM  

Definitely knew you were a woman with some recent pains, but I had no idea to this extent. I knew about the heartaches with the adopted children, but I don't think I knew about the grandchild or the parents. I can see why you'd be hesitant, closed off. Maybe the blog will provide a bit of a release for you?

Poetic Justice March 18, 2011 at 12:00 AM  

You've been through so much Diva:( I believe devestation like that can make that outside shell seem a little tougher. I know it has for me. You are still that soft sweet gal inside, but I think we put our guard up a little more - it makes us feel safer. Be well my friend xo

Brent March 18, 2011 at 9:57 AM  

Thank you for sharing. Looking forward to future thoughts. You are a special person and you always make me smile. (Oh, and you laugh at most of my jokes.)

The Elephant's Child March 18, 2011 at 11:25 PM  

Loved your post. And yes, the ugly bits and the hurting bits (sometimes one and the same) are the bits I conceal from myself as well as everyone else. Thankyou for allowing us some way into your world. I'll be back.

Maasiyat March 19, 2011 at 1:38 PM  

I can't imagine facing all of that and still being able to function. I just found your blog but I am certain I will learn so much here.

Thank you for sharing this. I know it could not have been easy.

JoJo March 19, 2011 at 11:34 PM  

I'm sorry for all the struggles and hard times that are difficult to talk about. I can't help feeling the same way about using my blog to deflect sometimes. I don't think I ever let my vulnerable side come out on my blog, which is as unrealistic as Obama getting re-elected. I'm an emotionally unstable person, I just have a problem admitting to people that I'm not strong enough to handle it.
Something pretty devastating happened to me last week and I just can't talk about it with anyone. Instead, I isolate myself, write a cute blog, remain anti-social for a little bit longer until I feel ready enough to face the world again without letting them see me cry.
I can't allow people to see that side of me. I don't know why I'm like this. I totally get you, but I don't get myself. Go figure.

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