come into my closet, come under my bed, where you'll find me hiding,
the fear in my head.

abuse in the past, now, where do i start, making my future,
healing my heart.

crushed, and broken, falling fast-
needing comfort, make it last.

Monday, December 8, 2008


It would be four years until I would know where my family had moved.

I now know that much of my extended family knew all along where they had moved, but my mother had told them never to tell me.

She had told them that I was taking drugs and drinking and had moved out or ran away.  [a big lie - the only drinking i did was in her home.]

Whatever it was it was enough for them to lie to me for too many years about where she was.

I went to school; my senior year.

I had to go to a court and became a ward of the state. My father and his new wife did not want to keep me, they thought I may have been trouble, they did not know, so my father signed me over to the state and I became a foster care kid.

I tried therapy a few times but was never really ready to talk. People gave up on getting me to talk about it, and so life just went forward, with me supressing so much inside, the pressure that would surely become my eventual demise.

I really loved the home I was living in.

There were rules. I could not drink or smoke, or stay out late.

I finally had rules; different rules, the kind of rules you have when someone loves you and cares about your safety. It was really weird.

And these people they treated me like family. The entire family did, to the extended family, as though I had been there all along... From uncles to aunts and cousins. I was always a part of their family.

It felt really nice. I was able to be a kid, finally.

I went to work with my real father. I really enjoyed that. It was actually fun to get to know him and my other step-brothers and sister. And it lessened the difficulty of him not accepting me.

I thought that for once all was going really great for me. I had a lot of nightmares and I remember that I had a lot of tantrums.

I would threaten to run away, sometimes I wanted to die. Even the good couldn't completely alleviate the pain of the past.

I have been told my reaction was a lot like post-traumatic stress disorder.

What I know is that it was hard on the people who were loving me.

At first my grandparents did not know where I was and were told not to look for me because of my problems.
When they found me I was really sick with a flu.
My grandmother thought maybe I was hungover, she was trying to get me to say I was hungover; I was really, really just sick. And again, I paid for the pains of my mother, my past.

I was enjoying seeing my dad and grandparents, my mothers family, and I thought only the best was ahead. They were all really nice to me. It was wierd.
Wierd because my mom had taught me that they didn't like us. Some of the things that she told me, I learned, were true;
and I paid for trusting too much... trusting that I was okay to be loved. We weren't good enough, we came from a divorced family; it seemed our horns, the things that were wrong with us, would never go away completely.

And then in November, my foster family's mom died. She went away one weekend and never came back home. My foster family was hurting and I was watching this new chapter unfold. A life that would never be the same for anyone I loved again. It seemed to me that anything I touched, the lives of those who loved me, were destined to be destroyed.

And now I had to be strong for the family.

They were hurting so much. I didn’t know what to do. It was really like a nightmare. A new nightmare.
Again, I was supressing; Learning to live by blocking out the pain each day brought.
This seemed to be the beginning of my faking my life away, with a smile, and strength, not really courage, but bravery.


Amysplash said...

are you ok i havent heard from you for awhile are you mad at me?

steveroni said...

Always had the notion that courage and bravery had slightly different meanings, though both are listed in dictionary as interchangeable. Have to think about that...

(T H I N K)

(S T I L L T H I N K I N G)

I'll Get BACK to ya on that.........

Cat said...

Gosh your childhood sounds so traumatic that you are able to write about it shows courage and strength as well. Keep writing it out - I really belive that writing heals us.


LarryG said...

please put me on your blogroll!

Anonymous said...

YOU are brave *safe hugs* I don't know what else to say but just that. Keep writing hon.


Keep talking!

Keep healing!

We'll keep loving you!

steveroni said...

Several days ago I wrote...

"Wish there was a way to contact you, I'd like to tell you some things about my angel named Flex, but not on comments. Whatever....

Well, Hope, I lost all of it except "hope" -grin. Please re-send? TIA


Shadow said...

i don't know the difference between courage and brave. but girl, you've got both!

Pam said...

I am reading. I am hearing.
Keep saying it darlin'.
Damn we certainly are made up of so many experiences in our lives aren't we?

mile191 said...

yes, i agree that we are...thanks everyone. i do HOPE that this is not only helping me, but helping all are in my thoughts and yes, you are in my prayers. i do not feel alone. thank you♥

mile191 said...

yes, i agree that we are...thanks everyone. i do HOPE that this is not only helping me, but helping all are in my thoughts and yes, you are in my prayers. i do not feel alone. thank you♥

Psych Client said...

We are made up of everything we hear, see, touch, feel, dream and experience.

Interesting thought to ponder.

Mile, how in the world do I give out post awards??? I've been searching and am clueless. I want to give you one girly

Anonymous said...

I can relate to every word of it, all the feelings. The wanting so much to hope, that someone would really love and care for me, for just me? And all the trust issues. I really hope you try counseling again Hope. It really helped me with my PTSD. We just get so used to having to feel a certain way and act a certain way and stay on that tight rope. It's so hard to let go, but little by little it happens as I trust God more and more to take care of me and teach me how to love and take care of myself. It is not OK for me to beat myself up anymore, but sometimes I forget. I feel like I am rambling on here, but somehow I feel like you understand exactly what I am talking about. {{HUGS}}

Miyonao said...

After my family moved to a different country when I was a teenager, I had a miserable life for more than ten years. I felt being ruined and denied all the time. But you had gone through much worse than I ever did. I was thinking of writing about my stories as well but I haven't been able to bring myself to do that yet. I admire you for having so much courage to write about your stories. You're doing great.

SapphireDreams said...

Hi! I'm finally going back and reading some of the posts that you have made. I start reading more and then sometimes its to close to home and I cant manage to finish so I stop. I know I will come and visit it again. Its just too much for me somedays. Its hard enough writing about my own past, pain, and sorrow, let alone reading about someone else that has experienced the pain such as I have too. Anyway.... I just wanted to say Thank You!
Safe hugs ((((mile191))))

Brandon said...

To have finally gained some ground, only to lose something again. To have been loved for who you were and not what you were is phenomenal. To be accepted and treated as an equal and not an object. I wish these things for you the rest of your life. You are now and were then an amazingly strong person. You have opened the doors for others to share and begin to heal. You are an advocate on awareness. Your courage, strength and honesty are a beacon to all. Well done !

who I was, who I am, who I plan to be...

i am trying to heal from severe childhood sexual, emotional,
physical, and mental abuse; and abandonment.

this is my story.

i have good and bad days, and some days the odds seem insurmountable.
i cling to the hope that healing will come to mend the shatter pieces of my heart, mind and body.

mile 191, well, you will understand as you read along.
mile 191, portions of my past have a link on the top right.
mile 191, bottoms up. hears to you and to me.

please, if you know me, just let me know you found me. i need honesty. (and please do not use personal names)
if you want to follow my story, please try to heal with me.
if you want to share with me, please do.
i will post bits of my pain as i can, and leave it here.
i once thought that i would publish...i haven't had the courage.

this is my closet, you are welcome to come in.
just know this is my refuge, healing takes place here,
maybe it will be a refuge to you too.

Quotes from Suvivors United - Standing Strong Together Against Abuse

You gain strength, courage and confidence by every experience in which you stop to look fear in the face.
Eleanor Roosevelt

When one door closes another door opens; but we so often look so long and so regretfully upon the closed door, that we do not see the ones which open for us.
Helen Keller

Success is not to be measured by the position someone has reached in life, but the obstacles he has overcome while trying to succeed.
Booker T. Washington

When I hear somebody sigh, 'Life is hard, ' I am always tempted to ask, 'Compared to what?'
Sydney Harris

Don't let life discourage you; everyone who got where he is had to begin where he was.
Richard L. Evans

Challenges are what make life interesting; overcoming them is what makes life meaningful.
Joshua J. Marine

What lies behind us and what lies before us are tiny matters compared to what lies within us.
Ralph Waldo Emerson

Thanks CORNUT32! ♥

What a sweet award....and thanks for creating something so wonderful that can be passed along to bloggers who are indeed making a difference by sharing their lives.

I invite all my faithful and dear blogger friends to take this award. You indeed have made a difference in my life.

Thank you so much for being with me on my journey to heal....mile 191