I Honestly Love You

*Note*

For The Laughing Nanny followers, this is an assignment for a psych class I am part of. It needs to be available to others online so this was the first and only choice. Feel free to skip right over it as it’s not a usual (whatever that is) post. Thank you for your patience.    TLN

I was in a local store when an old song from the past came on, Olivia Newton-Johns ‘I Honestly Love You.’ Just that quick, tears started falling. Had to get out of there and fast. Came home with tears still in my eyes and listened to the song all the way through. I cried…. four years worth of tears…. enough that it made me physically sick, which is a first for me. What brought this on? Pretty simple actually, and all in a nutshell of this rotten peanut.

It’s not a good feeling to constantly feel like you have to be on guard… for your health, your well-being, your sanity, your creature comforts, your safety. You’re not ‘who’ you’ve always been because you’re adopted, or so you’ve been reminded. You’ve lost your identity in more ways than one. Your health and sanity takes a toll when threatened with physical violence against you and your dog, knowing someone is outside of your home because they’re beating on the house, and meager attempts at break-ins, yelling from vehicles in order to scare you, leaving threats on voice mail and writing threats out in messages. You’re scared to walk outside during the day. You leave in the early morning hours for the closest all night store just to be around humans not trying to attack every aspect of you. “Call me if you need me,” in one sentence and “I don’t want to get involved,” in the next. Coming or going? Undecided? It’s been a long, tough 46 months since dad died. Add to that the fact that my grandkiddos are either in or out of my life based on whatever whim happens to smell the best at the moment makes some days not worth the effort and nobody will know exactly how much effort it takes for this body of mine to function properly through each day. Each and every day. Always. And forever. Any joy and happiness I feel with my grandchildren means nothing since I am alive….. and I can’t compete with another grandmother who is no longer with us. I’d like to spend as much time as I can with my kiddos without the threat of ‘I’m pissed off with her again so we’ll punish her” mentality. God knows I won’t be living a long life – God knows I probably won’t make it until the next birthday. I don’t have the energy and am too tired to fight any of these losing battles. I don’t want any more confrontations that I didn’t instigate and I don’t want to be in a situation where I’m grabbed and thrown to the ground again. The worst of all is the look in the grandkiddos eyes; they don’t know what to do when they see me…. they don’t know if they are supposed to like me or dislike me. I can’t let that happen anymore. They can’t be pawns in their parents game of manipulation. I just hope my kiddos realize that I have loved them, both of them, ALL of them, more than I loved me. If they don’t or can’t see that, they are in worse shape than I thought.

That song opened up a dam that refused to budge. Don’t know why, don’t know how but it sure felt good for so much stuff to wash away. I guess it’s officially spring again.

 

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