Some days are a big slap to the forehead. It is astounding how much of my personal power I just give away. No one asking, no one standing with a hand out. Just me dishing it out blindly.
When I told my husband I wanted a divorce, he didn't move out. We shared a house for 10 long months. He wouldn't let me leave with the kids and he wouldn't grant me space. At our first court hearing the judge said I could move out and take the kids with me. I did. After all of the hoops and paperwork I was finally okay to move out. I was not however granted time and space to move out. I left the courthouse with my best friend and under the watchful eye of my husband who had a 9 millimeter gun stuck in his waistband, we grabbed what we could.
A year later, the judge granted me access to my belongings. Again, the system is such a mess. My ex had gone through everything and decided what was mine and what I could have. Four items that I had naively expected to be handed to me were my passport, my 9 millimeter, my 22 pistol and my bullets. Instead I was told they were somewhere, packed in the double garage full of boxes he had ready for me. Later that evening I found the 22 pistol and the bullets, but not the 9 millimeter or my passport.
Finding the gun was urgent as I had moved us into my girlfriends home and we now had a missing gun and a house with 6 children living in it.
Every box was opened and every item was unwrapped and touched. So many boxes, but the next night the gun was found. In a zip lock baggie in pieces. My sorry ex husband had decided that the best way to protect his sweet ass was to disassemble the gun into all of it's many pieces. I was blessed that the man I was dating was able to put it back together and teach me how to put it back together. Gun found, fear of one of the kids finding it was over.
I did not however ever find my passport. I have since moved and opened and touched every item that remains in boxes and have never found my passport.
This may not seem like a big deal to some of you, but there are a few items that mean a great deal to me. A driver's license is one of those items. I was at the DMV on my 16th birthday to get my driver's license. I couldn't wait for the freedom driving would provide me. The second item is a library card. Getting a library card is always one of the first things I do when I move to a new area. A library is a safe place to go and be. It is a place where you can sit, safely for hours and let your mind explore. The third item is a valid passport. I received my first passport at 20 and have had a valid one handy and ready ever since, until 2011 when my "disappeared."
When my Dad was in Germany he became very sick twice. Both times I was moments away from purchasing a ticket to fly across the ocean to help him get back on his feet when he would tell me he had it under control. I not only had to have my passport valid, but as a stay at home mom, I had my children's passports updated in 2010 in case we had to go take care of my dad.
I was deemed a flight risk during the divorce and the Judge ordered that the children's passports were to be held in the office of my husband's lawyer. Again, the system is very lazy and no one made sure that ever happened. When I brought it to everyone's attention it was just shrugged off.
I have allowed this to be an irritant of mine for 4 years, instead of getting the photos, printing the paperwork and getting a new passport. Me, who has always prized my ability to say yes and go, let my life be put on hold by my need to hold onto my anger.
I have had the ability to get a new passport for 4 years, but I didn't. I wanted my existing one. I wanted the stamps that show where I have been. I wanted him to do the right thing and suddenly find it.
Part of divorce is forgiving and letting go. Daily I work on forgiving a little more and letting a little more go.
I had passport photos taken and will fill out the paperwork to get a new passport issued. This is a big step at letting go and taking control of my life again. Today, I want my freedom more than I want the comfort and justification of my anger.
Angel card: Wedding.
I hate this card. I hate it every time I pull it. I need a new meaning for this card.
I have zero interest in ever getting married again.
For me, marriage is a trap, a cage, a death.
I put the card back in the deck, reshuffled and fucking pulled it a second time!
If you just got engaged, let me know so I can understand why I pulled this twice.
Fabulous Super Moon night!
We had just a really great end of summer day. We went to the pool one final time, went to the trampoline jump place & grilled burgers.
Then we all wrote our wishes for the coming days and then sent them up in flames to the Universe!
My daughter called me on FaceTime & chatted with me for an hour while we wrote our our wish lists!
As we got ready for bed, my daughter & I ran out for a photo of the big bright full moon.
Beautiful day with truly beautiful girl! She just fills my life with love.
It is good to remind our children that they are artistic and creative. Creativity is for more than art class!
My son had a project to "do" a poster board about himself.
Instead of just drawing on the poster board, he chose non-white poster board and cut his into the shape of a dinosaur. The little white strips are his bits of personal information about what he likes to eat and his favorite movies.
To top it off, he chose a second sheet of poster board to create the contrasting skin on the dino.
It will be interesting to hear about the reaction his creativity receives. I hope it is positive.
Can there be room in your heart to love me even if I am not the smartest woman in the world? Or if I never earn a degree? Or if I find high school math harder to figure out thirty years later than when I first learned it?
Can there be room in your heart to love me and space to get to know me?
Did I fail you by not showing you that love is not earned? Did I fail to tell you that love is best when there are no conditions tied to it. A mother's love is for all time, no matter what.
There is so much you don't remember, so much you were too young to understand. I fear you have heard way too much from someone who is hurt and angry to see me for who I really am.
As an insult last night, you stated that I don't love science, since I don't love graphing like you do. You implied you like science, like your dad. No room for me to love science too. I sometimes forget how very narrowly you view the world. I wish you would apply your fact based knowledge and scientific methodology to really examine your perceptions of who I am.
I love science and have been your science buddy since you were a toddler. I set up experiments for you all day. My favorite times were watching you explore music and sounds and water and dirt. Every day I tried to have something new for you to see and touch and feel, all while you sat in the safety of my lap twirling my hair or holding my hand as we took our walks.
I am the woman who bought you all of those huge science books and read them to you. The first time you heard the scientific names of animals, dinosaurs or plants was from my mouth. I sounded them out for you and then later we sounded them out together.
I am the woman who sat with you for four years trying to get you to read and then would give up and pull you up close to me and read you stories meant for older children to fill your imagination until you could read on your own. I am the body you curled up on while I tried to read books to fill my own brain.
Not once did I tell you that you were not smart. Not once ever, did I yell at you or belittle you for having no interest in something. I fostered your love of science into every day and lesson we had.
I had hoped that I had taught you that everyone is special and everyone is smart and that everyone has something very important to teach you. Some days, for all of your "smarts", I am not sure you get how much you break my heart. You say mean things and then laugh and explain you were just kidding. Your dad did this to me too. I shared with him many times that words spoken can never be taken back and that I believed he meant what he said, he just knew it was mean so he tried to take it back by saying he was just joking.
I grow tired of playing stupid to your father's genius. I am quite certain that even if I do earn a degree, it will not be in an area of any perceived worth.
I grow weary of hearing his derogatory remarks come out of your mouth at me.
I wish you could remember all of the years when he barely noticed you. You don't remember that I had to force him to do science with you and it never turned out well and you didn't really get to enjoy his brilliance because he would be a college instructor droning on in front of an audience. He was incapable of explaining the steps and then stepping back to let you attempt the experiment on your own. It was just easier and faster if he did everything and showed you. That my dear child is not how you learn. You are a toucher, a feeler, a tinkerer, an engineer.
Can there be room in your heart to love me if the only purpose I was put on this earth to fulfill was to be your mom?
Can there be room in your heart to love me if my greatest achievement ever was only to raise you and your sister?
Of all of the things I have done, places I have visited, jobs I have held, the two of you are what I put every ounce of my soul into. I may never have a piece of paper that declares I am smart. I may never make $6,000.00 a month. I may never have a fancy title on my business card, but all that I am and all that makes me so very special is inside you.
I have brought you places where I knew you could experience new ways of thinking and force you to wonder and imagine. I have brought you to the door of every bit of knowledge, even when I could not enter the room with you. I have carried you to the smartest people I could find and watched as you walked off with them talking their ears off. I have never let my lack of knowledge hold you back.
Your love of reading, music, science, art and science were built from my love of you and me wanting to share this whole big ole' world with you.
Each time you think of just the right song for what you are doing, you are pulling from a part of me. I have always known the right music to create a feeling.
Each time you read or hear a phrase that makes you sit back and taste the sweetness or eloquence of the wording, you are pulling from a part of me. I love finding work by an author that really knows how to express themselves.
Each time you lose yourself in book for an afternoon, it is because you grew up making forts from all of the books I was currently reading and that sat on every flat surface in our house.
Each time you push for the independence you so rightly feel is yours for the taking, I salute you and remember when you did this as an infant, a toddler and again as you left preschool. I am not a stranger to your need to do it on your own. I have sat off to the side and watched this behavior since you were born. I was always within hearing distance and my full attention was always on where you were and what your next step was. I never wanted you having to find me to be an additional irritant when you were in the middle of your next breakthrough. I have always been right on hand. All you had to do was look up and your eyes would tell me you were about to give up.
You weren't mean back then to me. You didn't feel you had to be smarter than me to make yourself feel better. Back then you just wanted to accomplish it on your own with as little assistance from me as possible. You didn't feel the need to be superior to me back then. You didn't feel the need to hurt me back then.
I am not certain if you will ever be able to forgive me for breaking up your happy home. You will probably never know that the best thing I ever did was leave your dad. It forced him to become a dad to you.
I am not certain you will ever be able to stand back and acknowledge that you and I are on similar paths with the same family of demons. I had to break free because all I heard was that I was not enough, not as good, not right, too this and not enough that. Living life being made to feel that you are not right is painful. I wonder if you feel the same way?
Oh my sweet child, I need you to know that you are very worthy. The best of everything I am and everything I have learned is inside you.
I pray you will meet friends along your way that help you to understand that all that matters is you, not what you own, not where you live, not where you went to college, not how much money you make. I pray that your life is filled with strong feminist women and emotional men who show you that you are flawed and fabulous and that you can put down your need to judge everyone around you because you are enough, just as you are, you are worthy of achieving every dream you have ever whispered up to the full moon or on a birthday candle.
I can tell you that I am so happy to be free. I have found my own group of friends who know my worth and help me on my weak days to remember I have so much to offer to the world. I have friends who remind me that I am worthy. That I am smart. That I am able to do anything I choose with ease. They remind me that I have already accomplished so much to get to this point. I hope that you get to know the feeling of having people understand you.
My old life was full of explaining myself and then looking into dead, judgmental eyes that could not understand any bit of what I had said or felt. That is a very rare experience for me now. When I speak and connect with people out here in the real world, they are nodding their heads and agreeing and letting me know that the connection has been made. They have felt what I am feeling or can imagine what I am describing.
There is more than one path to success. I need for you to know this because as my child, you are not going to pick the easy road. I imagine you and I will be on this bumpy path for a long while as you figure out that you have to embrace the whole you, to find true happiness. I wish being smart was the way to great success, but it is not. No one likes being with a know-it-all. My only source of comfort is that I am certain you have in you enough of me, to help people see that you are so much more. I imagine you will find your clarity and purpose once you accept and utilize both your head and your heart.
Can you reach back and remember when your feelings of me were your own, before the divorce, before the dark ugliness was allowed to go unchecked. Before you felt you had to choose. Before I had to be wrong to his right?
I am far from perfect and have not hid my mistakes from you. As your mother, I know you need to see that life is not fair and that people are not fair. While I wish it didn't happen so often, I need for you to see me cry. I need for you to know that crying is not weakness, it is being present in a moment. You my son, are a big feeler, and my job is to be the voice in your head that reminds you that life is better when you feel the full spectrum of feelings. Feel the bad feelings with as much attention as riding through the highs of joy! Don't cheat yourself out of being present in each moment. This is what will draw people to you and make them fall in love with you. You have in you the greatness of a leader, not because of your perceived intelligence, but because of your ability to connect with people.
Can you start taking the small steps to be your own man and can you choose to be a good man, a kind man?
Can you make room for me in your heart and learn to draw strength from my love and belief in you? I promise I am strong enough to love you through these very difficult times.
I hope you can find a place for me in your heart, where it is alright for me to just be me.
I have waited all summer for school to start back so I can get back into the routines that I need to focus on work and to write. Today is the first day of school for my kids!
My son starts high school today. I dropped him off and promptly started tearing up. OMG it really feels like just yesterday that they handed him to me and he was 6 pounds and some ounces of warmth. My constant companion for 11 years. I remember his arms stretched up reaching for me to pick him up again. He was always in my arms, snuggled in my lap or curled up next to me. Today marks that our time living together and hanging out on the couch daily is drawing to a close. 14 1/2 incredible years full of first and I am still so grateful everyday that I had the opportunity to be a mom! Without a doubt, being a mom is the greatest thing I have ever done in my life.
I am so excited to hear how their first day of school went!
This is a very strong positive reading for the coming year. I am very excited that I am making this happen!
Last week my ex texted to see what day would be good for us to meet with the school and have our daughter present her presentation on why she should be allowed to stay in school after her "gang" incident at the end of the school year.
I asked how much work she had done at his house and let him know she hadn't done any of the presentation at my house. He said she was mostly done. When I asked her an hour later, she said she hadn't done any of it. Later that night she and I sat down and looked at the journaling we had done this summer and we came up with thoughts to be used in the presentation she would create. We made photo copies that she could take back to her dads to combine with what they would create.
Turns out he didn't let her use anything we had done together, nothing. She was not happy that he had made such a big decision on what was supposed to be her presentation. But time was short and she had to get it completed. I asked if he could send me a copy of the final presentation so I would know what she was saying before we stood in front of the group. That didn't happen. So she didn't get to really read through it and get comfortable with it in the day prior to the meeting.
The night before she picked out two outfits she would be comfortable in. One was basket ball shorts and a t-shirt and the other was a ripped up tight pair of jeans and a short t-shirt. She ultimately chose the basket ball shorts and t-shirt. We went to sleep and surprisingly, we both slept.
Up bright and early the next day to get my son to High School Freshman Orientation, then to the middle school. When my ex arrived, our daughter asked him to see the stuff she had laid out for him to bring. He only had half of it. He brought only what he thought she had laid out. Anyone who knows my girl, knows she is very organized and creates detailed to do list and always gets her stuff packed and ready. The journal she did with the counselor this summer was missing. She started to stress and calmed herself down. As adults this would throw most of us off prior to a meeting. It sucks when you realize you don't have everything you need or prepared.
But she shook it off.
Then he turned to her and started to say something and stopped himself. I felt myself inhale and hold my breath waiting for the fight to start.
A minute later, he turned to her and asked her what she was thinking wearing the outfit she had on. I felt it with her, the shame of having been told you fucked up. She started telling him that she didn't have any nice clothes, that she didn't have any other clothes. He was upset that the t-shirt had skulls on it, day of the dead skulls. Her face was red and she was crying and she walked away to go to the bathroom.
I stood there for a second unsure what to do. I knew where his anger would turn next and it did. How could I let her show up looking like that. There are skulls on the damn shirt.
I told him that she picked out her outfit and it was fine. He said I should have guided her to a more appropriate outfit. I remembered I don't have to listen to his bullshit anymore and I walked away from him to the bathroom and just hugged her while she cried and vented. Then we washed her face and went out.
Eighty percent of the time I have closure and visualize my ex surrounded by loving white light and happiness. I feel the peace it brings my body. I want him happy and I forgive him for what he did to me and I forgive him for what he made me feel. Eighty percent of the time I am at peace with him and other than the guilt I feel for leaving and changing everyone's life, I have moved from hate and anger and fear to peace and closure. However, several times a month he has to make everything so damn hard and he has to hurt me or one of the kids.
I had spent the 24 hours prior and the morning of getting her pumped up for her presentation. Asking questions to get her thinking about what she wanted to express. With a few words, he undid so much forward motion.
Imagine being a grown up having someone challenge and mess with you before an important event. Most of us can't rebound quick enough as grown ups.
The one request I have made to each of the counselors my kids have had over the past 5 years was that they teach the kids how to set boundaries with my ex. How to stand up firm to his need to dominate every choice and thought. How to feel comfortable stating their needs and desires to someone who is going to demand logical explanation and who will argue and tell you that you are wrong. They all just look at me like I have lost my mind. Why are we sending them to professionals if no one will help them learn to set boundaries to protect themselves?
They will lose touch with the feelings their gut provides them. They will start to doubt their ability to make decisions. They will doubt themselves. They will lose trust in knowing who they are. They will think they are broken.
They will be told that they are being unreasonable and over emotional and too sensitive.
It was very difficult to see my daughter get messed with.
The school didn't expect her to come back after two months as a compliant barbie doll, in a dress of pink with pearls.
That was never the point. He is an adult and knew what he was doing to her was wrong. There was no way to change what she had on 3 minutes before her presentation. He knew it would only stress her out and upset her. He has to know her, right? And he did said it anyway, just to be mean.
She did really, really good bouncing back from two big problems before her presentation. I am very proud of her.
Her presentation was fine, but completely missing the element of emotion and feeling that what she and I worked on could have added to round out the facts and nothing but the facts. But it was concise and effectively done in boring government power point. No images, no expressive font, no color. All dad, no mom.
On the way back home she had a great deal of emotion to vent.
Then she said, "I can't wait until I am grown up and can get away and be me." I almost stopped the car, but I didn't want to destroy the moment. I looked at her in the rear view mirror and told her I knew how she felt and that was why I had to leave. I just wanted to be me. I still just want to be me, without someone telling me I am wrong or bad, or stupid. We don't talk a lot about why her dad and I got divorced, but in every example she vented, I saw myself and 16 years with her dad flashing before my eyes. She said she hates how he never apologizes when he is wrong. She said she hates how he doesn't hear her and how he gets so mad when she changes her mind. She went on and on and she was preachin' to the choir. I was reading to start shouting "Amen" and raising my hands up to the Holy Spirit.
I didn't start the hallelujah chorus, but I did tell her that she has the power to be herself now and that she is strong enough to stand up to anyone, anytime.
Divorce moved me 80 percent of the way to freedom, but it left my kids struggling with the same issues that forced me to leave. I got mostly free. My kids didn't. I say this a lot, but it is heavy in my heart and words don't do it justice. Divorce only gets the adult out, there is nothing in place to protect the children.
I had hoped that if I left, I could break the cycle of abuse.That they would see me struggle and grow and heal and learn from my mistakes. It is hard to watch the abuse continue and know that breaking that cycle now rest in my children's tiny little hands. I want to see them learn faster than me. I want to see them stand firmer than me. Even when my son drives me crazy with his verbal explosion of unhappiness, I love that he isn't swallowing his words, yet.
I want to be a good role model of speaking my truth and living my life true to myself. I want them to grow up believing that they are worth it. Worth the fight. That they matter and that they should never just give up and that it is not their job to conform to make other's happy.
It is hard to get closure when the wounds get ripped open so often.
It has been over a year since I wrote this piece. I found I have 50 drafts saved in various states of disarray, that I started, never finished or was not ready to deal with the consequences that would follow.
It is time to begin again.
Originally written August 2, 2015
"When you can't let go of control, chances are it's the time you need to let go the most." Cheryl Richardson
Mass Email Post from Danielle LaPorte on Tuesday July 28, 2015
"Do you know the story of the man who was hitting himself over the head with a hammer? “Why do you keep hitting yourself with that hammer?” a shocked passerby asked him. “Because,” the man replied, “it’s going to feel so good when I stop.”
Examine the evidence. You keep fighting the same fight. You’re losing sleep. You’re sick of hearing yourself complain about the same damn things over and over again (yammer, hammer, hammer). Clearly, wrestling isn’t getting you closer to free. It’s quite possible that…you have no fight left in you."
"When you stop struggling to make something go the way you’ve wanted it to, you shift the energy grid of our life. Facing the facts is liberating (even though it can be wrenching) — and with that truth comes a major power surge.
When you’re done fighting, you’re.done.fighting. It’s a bittersweet relief. Focus on the sweet."
"When you have no fight left in you, you get to stop fighting. This defeat can be a major victory."
To read the entire article by Danielle LaPorte, click here.
I am the man with the hammer hitting my head over and over again.
The past three weeks have been really difficult for me. My kids have been gone with their dad on his vacation time and this throws me for a curve ever summer and every Christmas. I miss them and the energy they create in my home.
When I am overwhelmed, I go inward, get quiet, and think.
My turning inward sent my partner into a tailspin. I played small at home to keep arguments to a minimum and tried to keep the energy around me calm, but honestly my irritation was instant. I didn't want to spend the time sharing my thoughts and feelings with my partner. I just wanted to be alone and sleep. I didn't want to talk about my feelings or be smothered with his. I didn't want to share my hurt and fear.
I didn't want to have conversations. I just wanted to be quiet and let the storm pass and not open any more cans of worms. I didn't want to have conversations with my friends either. When you are starting over or following your dreams, there can be some tender not firmly rooted times when you need to just keep your mouth shut and your thoughts to yourself. Sometimes while you are sowing your dreams, you have to keep it all in and protected.
I didn't want to have relationship conversations with my partner because they always feel like I have to explain who I am and what I want and what I am going through. It makes me feel very selfish. Telling your partner that they are third on this list is hard. I chose me and I chose my kids and I can squeeze you in when time permits. Sounds mean and bitchy, and if I really was mean and bitchy I would just come out and say it. Instead I try to soften the words.
Or it somehow appears like I am asking for help and I am not. I don't want to have these conversations because I don't have time for the fall out, the possible drama, and hurt & tender feelings. It sucks to keep having to tell someone you don't want their help. I have said it many times but I continue to work on speaking my truth. I have decades of swallowing the words and feelings I don't think I can share because I don't want to hurt the people I love.
Instead, I hurt myself.
My partner is a good man who is kind and wants to help, to fix my problems, to rescue me.
The problem is I don't want to be helped, don't need anyone to fix my problems and sure as shit don't want to be rescued. I don't want to be treated as fragile and incapable.
I am recognizing that when I have big lapses between writing, it is because I don't feel I should write what is going on in my life or in my heart or in my head, because it will hurt someone else. So I turn these conversations around inside my head and swallow them down. Then I lay in bed all night replaying the conversations. My kids have been gone for two weeks and I have not written more than twice.
My two kid free weeks were filled with words I didn't want to speak and didn't want to commit to paper. Words with consequences.
My biggest fear is becoming the mom, Bobby, from the movie "Wild" and being told I have a life ending disease and that I only have a few months left to live and realizing I never put myself first, even though I planned to as soon as I could without fucking up anyone else's life. And then fade to black, my time here is up and it is all over. If I found out I was dying next week, I would be a be ole mess of regret for the things I didn't make a priority to do and to say. And yet, here I sit at almost 44 years old, patiently putting my self last.
I have been lying to myself like so many mother's, that I will do all of things I wanted to do and be who I really wanted to be when it is convenient for everybody, aka, when my kids grow up and leave the nest. But the truth is there is never going to be a good or easy time for me to turn everyone's world upside down.
My truth is I want to be alone, to discover who I am when I no longer have to worry about how I might possibly impact those I love. When I am in a relationship I swallow down my fears too often and lose myself. I want to write without fear of my words hurting those I love. I want to spend my days writing and walking away from the computer for a bit and then coming back and writing the rest of the day away. Without hurting anyone's feelings. Without getting irritated that my partner is driving me crazy and being very distracting. Without having to be the bitch again and asking him to sit down and be quiet or go downstairs and watch tv. I am just so tired of being angry.
I have had a boy friend or husband for most of the past 31 years. That is 11,315 of my 16,060 days of my days on this earth spent not being focused on me. I started dating at 12 and while there has been months here or there when I was on my own, I was still out there as part of the swarm, searching and waiting for my soul mate. What lead me to leave my comfy marriage of 16 years was realizing the best part of my marriage was that for 10 of the 16 years my husband was gone Monday through Friday. I just wanted the kids. I just didn't believe I could do it on my own.
I left my marriage, but like most newly divorced people, I tried to recreate the only relationship model I know. I tried to recreate a marriage when I know down deep in my soul this is not where I want to be. I am allowing instead of creating. A creature of habit, I have done the only thing I know, which is to be in a relationship. I know how to be part of team, but the team has never been Team Melissa. So, 5 years out of my marriage and I am all but married again and miserable.
No, not miserable. That is isn't correct. Focusing on everyone and everything but myself. Miserable in my internal struggle. Fighting myself for again choosing the easy comfortable path instead of pushing through my fears and intentionally creating the life I imagine when I lay in bed curled up behind my lover, snuggled up and safe. I want the comfort and the scary lonely space.
I chose a way better partner for myself this time, but the fact is I chose a life partner again. I fell into a relationship and instead of keeping separate households and just enjoying each other when we didn't have our kids, I didn't stand firm against the blending of our families. My anger started when I allowed them to move in because that would be easier on everyone even though it is not what I wanted.
My partner keeps asking me why I am so angry? It breaks my heart to seem him hurting so much. I am angry because I want to be alone. I am angry because I don't want to hurt anyone or make life messy or confusing. I am angry because I am not living my truth.
I am angry because I don't want to upset the man I love. How do you explain to someone that you love them, but you are either leaving now or next year at best. Worse, how do you keep enjoying the comfort of the man you love when you know you will never fully commit to him. I am tired of my aversion to discussing marriage being funny. I love him deeply and completely, but I don't want to be his wife.
I am angry because I am disappointed that I can't stay focused on what matters to me and what I want to do with my life.
I am angry because I have to correct or right what I have wronged, again. Round two of sending everyone's lives into chaos.
I am angry because I fought so hard to break free and I willingly walked right back in to a damn cage again.
I am letting go. I know it is not going to be an instant fix of happiness, but it is the first step towards living the life I am dreaming of.