Why? I can weave a story to make a point and usually most people can’t seem to follow my story line and I totally, take them By surprise. Most folks just get worn out and can’t keep up with a girl who’s been working double time her whole life!
I take life in. The whole world around me. I take in like some kind of sensor. That’s what removing me from my Mama did to me. With a hole in my heart the size of Texas, it’s just big enough for the divine yo use daily. Daily.
Why would I not let God use me when everyone else has seemed to use me? God at least rewards me for my work?
I do feel my work with my own Mama will yield me much rewards. At least she has read what I’ve written. Which is more than I can say for the Mama she gave me too. Sad to even write. But it’s the truth.
I hated feeling like some kind of good ornament for someone clearly show boating me around. Claiming accolades she did not earn at my and my Mama expense. Yeah.
I’ve seen the face of evil. I’ve stared at it long and hard and prayed like hell. To be better. But there comes a time when you’ve been shown to cut your losses and move along.
I cook I clean. And when I ask a question? She tries to squash me now and I’m over it. She messed with the wrong woman’s child. The buck stops here. Whether my Mama ever gets it, I get it and know what I need to do. Move along.
If I hear her say one more time to leave? If Mama would give me a sign. I’d be gone. That’s how I have felt my whole life and I am not ashamed for loving my Mama.
This lifetime has taught me volumes about evil and the plight of men, woman and children and dogs and cats and birds and life.
She told me tonite. That if I am like my Mama she can see why she never wanted to know her! Oh honey. I said, “what makes you think my Mama would even want to know you.” “Your just angry because I’m not taking your shot anymore, and you should have realize my Mama lives within me.”
I put the pork roast in the oven. Because she sucks at cooking. I’d love to say she’s a great cook. But she’s not. Linda in me is way better. She cooks shit to death and everything lack vital energy to even make me feel good.
I hate some grapefruit and told her to deal with the rest. She just loves when I am compliment and lowly like a servant. If I jump throw the hoops as trained? I might get a treat, but don’t look for any praise. She would not want Linda’s child to feel good at all.
I’ve tried to paint over this and ignore this about her. But as she gets older she no longer can hide her behavior and now, thinks my own children hate me, and goes for blood, because she likes blood. I want justice. I want my family back. And I am not afraid to tell my truth now.
There is nothing she can do to stop me from Being me. And if she can’t accept me as me? Well that’s her issue not mine. Because I came from a good woman. Don’t think that I think one way like everyone else Because that would be so wrong. Being Adopted demands that you use all your brain if you plan on surviving.
I am a multi level thinker. I am a big picture thinker and I’ve had to use my brain to think big and pray for God to guide me home to get through to my own Mama. This woman is just an angry woman who lost her children and now realizes I did not replace them.
And that fact has made me mourn for my Mama the most because I know my Mama did not do this with malice in her heart. She may have been turned around and wounded too. But she really thought she was doing me a favor. And I am trying to show her what I learned While I was away from her.
My Mama does not think like I do. But she sent me to learn about this kind of thinking. But she did not know that until I began to open up and tell her this nasty truth of mine. I won’t back down. Because Mama deserved better from this woman in regards to me. And I’ve had to fight. Yes. For my life. Because though on the outside it all looked cherry, on the inside of my life it was not.
Home was not a place I felt comfort unless I was sick. I’ve learned many bad behaviors, all that I use for the highest good to flush garbage out. Of myself first. And here’s mine.
To love someone that has exploited you is not easy. But Mama seemed to want me too. And I have given and she has taken emotionally from me my whole life. There have been good times, only to be torn down right after they happened by her.
No praise for jobs well done and appreciation for my works. And I know I’d be a better slave for my own Mama than her. Because I feel like nothing more than a trinket that this woman’s done with at the end of her day. She’d rather buy a coffin than make sure I am ok.
She’s drinking again which is her Choice not mine. Because I took her in to my very home and did her better than she did me. And if my Mama wants to keep thinking that I am a hooligan well whatever. Keep on. Because I know my heart and what I have given to a woman who’s used me for her own Ego and vision.
She could give a crap about the woman who made it all happen. And that’s on her not me. Because I have always loved my Mama.
And so I have.