Christmas in a new Home

Well, it has been quite awhile since I have written anything on here. I have been working on settling into my new home since you last heard from me, and although this should not be a hard task (after all what is more exciting then buying a new house), it has been hard for me. It just is not feeling like home to me.

This holiday season is especially hard. My grandmother died last year, and even though last Christmas was the first without her, this Christmas really feels different. Maybe the loss has finally sunken in... I don't know.

I put my tree up at Thanksgiving, but have only plugged it in maybe six times. Then, my husband took on the task of putting up lights outside by himself. I know I am not typically much help with this, as with my vertigo I have trouble with ladder, but our new house has a low roof line I can reach. I just couldn't get in the spirit this year.

There is no smooth fudge, no cinnamon smell coming from the kitchen, and there isn't even presents under the tree. Being as it is just me and my husband, our presents don't usually make it Christmas morning anyway, but this year we agreed no gifts. Last year I felt the same lack of spirit, but hoped making my goodies for everyone (something I do every year) would bring me out of my funk. It did not so, this year I decided no faking the Holiday Spirit.

This lack of joy seems to have been building over time. It seems over the last few years I have more trouble enjoying my Christmas specials, light up the tree less, and want to hold up in my house even more. 

If you were to ask me why, it would be extremely difficult to pinpoint one reason, but I think the biggest is most likely lack of family and camaraderie. Not only do I miss having family around during the holidays, I am tired of holidays and gift giving making me feel inadequate. Having to scrounge every last penny to get a gift for someone who cannot take time to speak to me the rest of the year just seems wrong, especially when you live within the poverty margin.

I miss seeing the goodwill between people this time of year. Maybe it is because I remember so much through the naive eyes of a child, or maybe I have just become a cynic. Whatever the problem is, this Christmas, when I should be enjoying the twinkle of lights on my new porch, all I can think about is how I just cannot wait for my flowers in the Spring.

I try to feel different, I really do. I fear if this keeps up I'll soon turn into a modern day Scrooge.

Making Changes

Change is a big challenge for me. I like things to be the same.. safe and stable, that is my motto. Okay, not really because I get restless extremely easy, but I do not like big changes. and, right now, my husband and I are getting ready for a BIG change.

Soon, we will be closing on a new house, and will be moving our of our home of nine years. I am scared, which I guess is a normal response. But, I am also overcome with joy!

See, I live two yard from my childhood home (well, one of them), and am reminded daily of the tortures I endured in that house. WE will be moving to a new town, and I am so grateful.

We are moving to a small town called Weidman. I love small towns, and just cannot wait for the move to be done. I will keep everyone updated on it, but this is not the point of my post today.

Why does it seem like change is something so hard to accept? We are constantly changing and aging, but I am so scared of doing something new. Even when I was a kid, I was scared for anything to change in the least.

Is anyone else like this? How do you cope? I find the close I come to change, the better I am handling the idea of it, but how will I deal with the reality? I guess time will tell...

High on misery?

I always hear people talk about being high on life. If I am to be honest, I do not have much of a life. I spend most of my day playing with my dogs, doing school work online, and reading a book now and then. This all depends on the season however. When it's warm out I am outside as much as humanly possible while still getting my coursework done.

I do not understand what it means to be high on life. I do however feel I am high on misery.

Okay... Not exactly high on misery, but the fact that I am no longer miserable. I love my life, as dull as it might sound to others. Yes I am sick, yes I get bored and restless, but I am happy, safe, and content.

I spent a childhood not knowing who was going to hurt me next, physically,mentally, emotionally, and yes sexually. Even though they will deny it to their deaths, I was even molested by my own sisters at a point in my childhood. Of course at the time I did not know better, but I do remember threats against my life if I told our parents. So, yeah, BIG red flag.

I cried myself to sleep at night because I had no hold on happiness, only misery. I knew what I wanted happiness to be, and sure was not what I had.

So now, I have a safe happy home. A adorable, loving husband who will do whatever it takes to make me happy. A mother-in-law who has done more for me in the last 12 years them my birth mother has done my entire life. I have found happiness, and I would not know it if was not for my misery.

I love seeing sunshine and blooms.

I love this time of year. The flowers are blooming, the sun is shining, and my dogs are running through the woods like it's a whole new world.

I remember as a kid loving May because it meant Summer break was close, and two months of freedom was just around the corner. Then I got to spend time tending the flowers, wandering the woods, and watching the animals in said woods. It is amazing the amount of nature one can find in the middle of a city.

I spent a lot of time dragged alongside my older sister as she went to visit some very shady friends, as well. I hated going to this house, but I was forced by my family to go with her. In this house I experienced a lot of dark moments while my sister was locked Ina bedroom with her boyfriend, but I was always able to escape into the woods.

Even today when the World begins to close in on me I go to my back acreage and breathing the scent of leaves, dirt, and fresh air and everything begins to float away. When I see the colorful blooms in my yard I remember all the times I spent in my grandparents' gardens and how I felt safe in their yard. When I pull a weed I pull out a bit of that anger I hold inside of me.

Summer weather is like a release for me. I think we all need a release of our own, for one reason or another. I'm just glad I can find mine in the simple things.

Spring is officially here...

It is time for e my neighbor town, Shepherd, Michigan, to have their annual Maple Syrup Festival. That means Spring is officially here! Even though it is really friggin' cold outside...

The daffodils are in almost full bloom, with the tulips following right behind them. The garage sales, that my in-laws love so much, have officially started with the Syrup Fest. And best of all the grass is GREEN!

I love Spring time. I think it is my favorite time of the year. I get to plan my new annuals for my flower gardens, I get to see the baby robins in the nest under my porch. Best of all are my dogs in the Spring.

 Even though it has been warm for a while now, they still bound out the door ready for a new adventure and animals to chase. It is like their entering a new world every Spring. I guess it might seem that way when you live in the moment like them. This is Bella's first Spring, and she is absolutely loving it. And Toby goes crazy everyday digging in his pen in the back yard. He is so smart not digging anywhere else. And Maci just loves lying in the sun warming her old bones. My old gal is going to be 12 years old this Summer, and she seems to be loving every moment of her old age.

Jordan, my husband, is starting a new job tomorrow making this an extra special season. Wish him luck! This is a job he has been working on for a long time.

Another late night...

I sit here at 2:00 AM, and sit wondering what it is keeping me up this time.

Is it the fear of my dreams of past occurrences?

Is it the migraine making my head pulse and throb?

Maybe it is just a chemical imbalance??? I have no idea, and even if I did know, I do not think it would make sleeping any easier.

All I know is I am tired of now being able to lay next to my husband and relax. I am tired of feeling so jumpy, like at any moment someone is going to hurt me.

My councilor has old me it is Post Traumatic Stress disorder (PTSD) from all of my past abuse. I think the biggest cause is the molestations I suffered more then anything that is a possible cause. For some reason, these memories hurt me more than anything, and make relaxing and letting go very difficult.

Letting go of the thought that the attacks were my fault took years. But still, I fear of falling into the same old patterns of abuse. Not that I fear my husband. Far from it! I just wonder if there is something about me that brings out the worst in people.

I wonder if this is something other victims worry about...

Lack of love

I just learned my middle sister got married again. This is her third husband, and she is only 30. Granted, she married her first husband when she was like 19-20 years old, but still, three seems like a lot in such a little time.

When I think of my marriage compared to those of my family members, and especially my parents' marriage, I am shocked how much love we have. My sisters and I grew up with so little love, we did not even know how to show love to one another, if there was any at all. 

My oldest sister claims she loves her husband, but when I have seen them together they both seem to despise each other. He cannot seem to get away from her fast enough, an she just scowls at him constantly, as if he is never up to her immeasurable standards. 

My middles sister and her first husband  (I did not have contact with her since their divorce) had a rocky relationship from day one. They  were always fighting and calling one another names so horrid, it brought tears to my eyes. After their first born, things settled down on his side, but she only seemed to get worse as years went by, escalating to the point that after about 4 years she was beating him up in front of the children. The poor man was so ashamed he just dealt with it, until she was cheating on him and decided the best way to get rid of him was to accuse him of rape. When I stuck to the victim's side, I created a great wedge between me and my family. 

Sadly though, I do not regret the lack of communication I have had with my mother and sisters in the past years. It has been a sort of calm in my life. A lack of guilt for not feeling enough towards them, and a lack of need for them to feel more for me.

My parents' relationship was of a whole other situation all together. My dad claimed that the day my mother told him she was pregnant with my oldest sister, he was packed and ready to leave. I guess his habit of using her was beginning to become boring, so he was ready to move on to another victim. But, since he had already walked away from one child as a teenager (something he made sure to punish us for with incessant mistrust through the years) he could not walk away from another, and so they married out of duty. There was never a sense of love between them, although they did both make efforts every so often. Just never at the same time.

My father lived years with one foot out the door, running around on my mom. He claimed he only started cheating on her after I was born, but I believe he did it all along. My mother knew of his cheating, and just turned a blind eye, denying all of his actions. Even to the point of trying to blame other women for trying to steal him. But, there was always a tension between them, and the two rarely spent any time in the same room unless it was in bed.

Father claimed Mother was a horrible and controlling woman, but I know otherwise. She would bow to his feet if he wanted her too. His second wife is the same way, and I just do not understand it one bit. Mother spent their years together hoping he would come to his senses and grow up, while he wished she would drop off the face of the Earth.

Meanwhile, they consistently reminded us girls how horrible it was to be together through words and actions. Mother always commented on how horrible it was having three young children; oh, how she wished she waited longer to have all of us. Then Dad could never spend a whole day with his family. Even when we went on vacation he would become a tyrant after only a couple of days. One time, he became so enraged folding up a tent, literally bit a hole in it. When I mentioned this to his new wife years later he claimed it was because no one helped with the tent, but when I attempted to help him he yelled at me that I would just mess it up. That is my father, nothing is ever his fault.

So, there was a huge lack of love in my childhood. Even my favorite person in the world, my Grandma, could not hug me in a loving way often. Of course she would embrace me when she had not seen me for awhile, and I relished those hugs. but, she was not one to sit with me and read a book, or stroke my head out of kindness. Not that it was not there, I knew it was and saw it in her eyes and action. She just had trouble showing affection from the abuse of her husband. Something I came to better understand over the years.

I find it strange when my husbands Aunt, absentmindedly rubs her hand down my hair, or his Grandmother rubs my shoulders when I am ill. I even have trouble when they offer to help me with house work during my really bad months. But, I find my reactions are positive. I enjoy knowing the lack of affection in my childhood was not because of me, as I was often told. 

My mother even once told my husband I was too hard to love. Which, it might be true it is too hard for her to love me, but it is not true that I am hard to love. Without my husband and the family of his I have become to love so dearly, I would never have known the love I hold in my heart could be returned. This was something I was so afraid of as a child. And, I hope that anyone out there who is not given the love they deserve will once find all they deserve. A lack of love is something no one ever deserves.