Growing up… I used to…

Growing up, I used to wake up at night. I would wake up, and I needed to pee. But it was dark and scary. And i would wake to a suffocatingly fearfulness, that it took me what felt like forever to work up my courage to call for my Dad to turn on the light so I could see my way.

I am not sure exactly what this fearfulness was about. But it came at night. And it would stoke me vocalless. I felt unable to speak when I woke and it took me a while to overcome the fear to call out and against my instinct to be quiet and call out for help. Fear was a very strong feeling for me. Thank god for Jesus and the word. But it would take me years to face my fears for they were many.

And I always called for my Dad. My Mama Jean didn’t do night shift most days. She was a day shift girl. Which was ok. Dad always got up. And he always turned the light on even though he could not see what I feared. Which sadly Was calling for Mama. But I didn’t really have a good start from my perspective with mine, so, I didn’t want to push my luck with this Mama.

Feelings came over me daily growing up. Anxiety was my unwelcome friend many times when I would feel a wave and not know what, why, or where this feeling came from, except that it came from within. As if some cryptic alarm had been triggered, but no one seemed to understand how to turn the damn thing off. Especially me. So upsetting. So.

I can talk about it now. Because I faced it. Asked it questions. Looked for the answers. Many feelings I still work to identify. That’s why I am speaking openly so my Mama can read about it. That’s why I go up to look into my mirror of reflection called my Mama. To see the truth. To ground into it. Whether good or bad. I need truth. Lies are shaky ground. And Mama knows that. She does.

But how do we turn this around is the ultimate question? It takes us all to find the new plan. To leave me like this is not healthy. To block me out is not healthy. I know my family has feelings about this. Victoria showed me some of those feelings on my last visit. But I wonder. Is that all she feels at the end of the day about me? Unwelcome? I know I never made her feel unwelcome when she came to stay with me?

And now that I have spoken what no one wanted me to speak? We have this. Silence may be golden but what’s gold any good here? Can it buy me my family back? Can it buy me a new one? Can it buy me some peace for all these questions? Growing up I thought about my family.

And they didn’t even know I existed. I longed for sisters and brothers. And My siblings on my fathers side accept me as I am. I feel it when we are together. Sure it’s awkward, but they rolls with it and even celebrate it. But when I am with my Mamas side, I feel secret feelings, that no one thinks I can feel. Mama feels anger and sees it in me. And yet is unable to validate her own anger with our situation and take it out on me as well. They are not the only ones being hurt and confused by all this. I mirror their own dismay as well. Right back to them as I state what I see and wait for they to do the same so we can adjust and yet. They do not.

And my mind that has been trained by the word will not allow me to just go on without teaching us all a lesson about faith and strength and love that pushes all this out of the way. So we can see each other as we truly are. Human. Humble. All this is our garbage and yet no one wants to help sister to take it out. Hmmm? Like I made it? I came back to it. Willing to work. And yet the spaghetti noodles are still not done and won’t stick to the wall? Lordy.

Growing up I experienced so many things that have bettered me. But I am not gonna talk about that until this shits on lock. As Chelsie used to say. I am about to shank someone! Serious spiritual shanking going on here. Gonna shank some ignorance up in here! I am jerking a blister up on this ignorant shit up in here!! As my last husband Would say. He’s from KY.

Like life is not clouds and pillows all day. What kind of Christians are we if we struggle to endure and block the process? What is Christ good for if we block life? My Mama wants to say I am blocked and yet she’s the one blocking? Not me? I am articulating. I am communicating. I am trying, doing, loving, and on and on. What does love look like to you? What is Love when the cakes all gone? At the end of the day? What does it look like?

Do I look like I could care less? Does a person that could care less blog all day about it? Does the devil come straight to your face? No. It’s little by little. I am uncomfortable like this. My family seems dead about it. Like wow. Did I see myself here with Mama? No. I never imagined us here. Not in my wildest dreams!! So I ask God why? Why?And all I hear is keep writing. All I feel is pain that keep Bubbling up for release as Mama keeps blocking our progress and dig her ego’s heels into the sand she doesn’t release she’s standing on.

She’s not got a leg to stand on. And she doesn’t even realize their out from underneath her. My truth kicked them. And she’s so stubborn. She tells me I am the stubborn one and yet she can’t see all I’ve done for her. Plastered on each page are the words that tell what I felt and went through for her. For us. I thought? Oh. There I go thinking again?

Today was a hard day. I don’t know why? I wake up. Emotions running. Triggered. Tender. Crying? Why am I crying? Why do I feel so bad and struggle to push through the emotions? I know who I am. And I know who God is. And that God is in me. But what is all this that I feel? And I reach out. Finally to cal Mama to turn the light on for once in my life. And she’s to busy. To busy helping god’s children and leaving her own to fend for herself. Still. And she’s got me back. And can’t see the gift and what’s she done with it? She can’t see how she looks at me, how she is choosing to see me? And adjust herself? For I see her. Plain as day. And still came back.

I am waiting. I am humble and grounded in God and therefore know who’s I am. I am the child of the most high God and you best only see that. Unwelcome should never be spoken to me. Or anyone else for that matter. Naughty. Naughty. But truthful. I give ya that. Vicki.

Holy anger has no sin. I am angry, now with ignorance in my own family. To stay ignorant is the sin.

Thanks for diving deep

God bless.

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