Monday, March 19, 2012

I just want to go home....

     I threw a prayer out to God late last night in the form of a blog, which you won't see here anymore.  I was desperate, in pain, and while I'm fairly certain God doesn't take the time to read my blog, I knew that just by putting my prayer out in that fashion, He would hear the pain in my heart and the words I couldn't say out loud... or even in whispers.

      I thought I had deleted it quickly enough after I posted it so that no one else would see it, but I wasn't fast enough and a very caring and compassionate person called me on it.  [Thank you for your hugs EC.]

     I used to write out prayers a lot more often ...  Take the time to spell things out on paper, then set it on fire in a small bowl, watching the ashes eventually disappear and believing that the paper regenerated itself (like a Phoenix) in His hands to read.  Taking the time to physically pour out my heart to Him on paper gave me the freedom to say what I was afraid to say.  All the truths that He knew anyway, but were the things that I lied to myself about.  Usually about being afraid.

     I've always hated being afraid.  I suppose because for so many years I lived in fear.  Fear of moving again and leaving friends... so I just stopped trying to make friends.  Fear of my step-father's anger, words... hits ... until I hit bottom and called him out in what my mind said would be a life or death duel.  Mine, not his.  I suppose I won because I overcame the fear, even though it was weeks before I could hear out of my left ear.  But he never raised his hand or voice to me again.

     I didn't live in fear of my first husband ~ a short marriage lasting just over a year ~ and I left him in disappointment.  He wouldn't give up the cocaine for me like he promised... he wouldn't move us into a house of our own without all of the male roommates he liked to get high with.  I wasn't a wife.  I was just someone who cleaned, cooked, and laughed at his stoned friends' jokes and flirtations.  I wanted kids, a home, a future.... and instead just became a doormat.  Not surprisingly a month after I moved out, he showed up at my apartment with his laundry, expecting me to wash it for him.

     No.  I didn't.

     I did live in fear of my second husband.  We were married for almost eleven years, together for twelve, and ten of those I spent walking on eggshells, sometimes literally broken glass, and always wondering what it would be that would set him off.  It could be something someone said to him at an AA meeting... or on a job... in a store.  Something I said... or didn't say.  Something I did... or didn't do.  His anger came without warning, and was the constant "other woman" in our marriage.  There were times when he wouldn't speak to me for months... and I never knew why.  He hit me once with a rake handle... and once was enough to convince me that I didn't want to push my luck with him.  He made threats... to kill family members and all that I loved and held dear... if I ever left him.

     I hit bottom eventually... and did leave him... running across country, sleeping with a loaded gun under my pillow for a year.  The cancer had started then although I didn't really know how long it would take to show itself.  There were issues, abby normal paps, tests, procedures... and the dream of having children became just a dream... never a reality.

     By the time I trusted again enough to marry #3 and become a step-mom, the cancer began to show and so I had some of those pieces and parts removed.  Just enough for a quick fix, but not everything... not all the parts.  The dream of having children went away... as did the marriage.  I have a lot of patience... but sneaking the ex-wife into the step-son's room because she's homeless and they knew I respected his "space" and privacy... was the limit of my patience.

     So here I am now.  Back in the habit of throwing out prayers in ways that don't require spoken words that make me choke back tears, wail like a banshee, and scare my dogs.

     I waited a long time before marrying again... hesitant to let my heart fall for a man with children because I'd been so hurt before.  Falling hard for someone that only I seemed to see the good in.  Falling hard for someone that others judged... and judged me for.  Some that forced me to choose between them... who were surprised when I chose him and not them.  When you give me a choice like that... I won't chose the one who dares to think they are superior over another.  I will always choose the one who didn't ask, or expect me to make a choice.

     Things have happened in the past two years, and I find myself again at the bottom... with no idea this time how to pick myself up.  The cancer is back... only now... there is nothing to take out.  It's become attached to parts of me that I'd like to keep... need to keep. 

     I want to go home to Florida, to be near the water and away from this godforsaken place of dust, lies, and broken promises.  But I don't have the money to do it... apparently planting quarters for those money tree seeds only makes me forget where I planted them, and dollar bills just disappear.

     I could have (should have) stayed in my townhouse in Florida, but got some bad advice and thought that Texas was where God wanted me to be.  Apparently not.  I think He wanted me to take the job in Atlanta that I didn't apply for, but got an offer from anyway, with the CDC ... because He wanted me to resolve a family feud with my brother.  Instead, I chose Texas only because it would put me farther away from my brother, and so I've paid a price for my pride and stubbornness.

     I want to go home... whether to live or die... I want to be at the beach, where I can hear the seagulls call... smell the rain... listen to the cicadas and frogs at night.  Where I can sink my feet into white sands as the waves push in and out... for eternity.


  1. Dear Cindi, I'm sorry that you're in a place of such deep hurt right now. My hope is that the dark clouds begin to separate and the sunlight begins to peek through to give you hope and comfort in your time of need. Keep writing and keep searching deep within for the answers even if they don't seem to be the answers you're looking for. I'm sending prayers and positive energy your way.

    1. Thank you, Amanda. I think if I can just get back to the water... back to the beach... everything will get better. I just need to feel the water on my soul again...

  2. Oh Cindi...I hurt for your hurt. I wish there was something I could do besides send my prayers. I will be thinking of you and sending lots of love, prayers and hugs. Be strong and when you can't be lean on those you know you can. My email box is always always open!

    1. Thank you Lynne. I know in my heart that things are right where they are supposed to be. My old pastor showed up unexpectedly tonight... God's timing. I had a good talk with him, then a good talk with Mom. The next two months will have challenges, but after tonight... I know that God has not left me alone.

  3. Oh Cindi. There aren't the words for what I want to say. I am so so sorry.
    I admire your strength, and am sorry that you have needed it so often and for so long.
    Here in cyberspace you have friends who love and admire you. Nuture yourself. I have no religion but hope (so much) that you will find your way back to the water and the peace you need soon.

    1. Thank you. I don't know that I always have the strength that it might appear I do... I think I'm just foolishly stubborn at times. Too stubborn to admit my fear... or weaknesses. There is faith in hope, and most often, that is all we need.

    2. Stronger than you know I suspect. It is my private mantra that 'I can do anything if I have to'. It has always been true so far, though sometimes I would have liked not to be pushed as far or as hard.
      And stubborn can be reframed as determination. Doesn't sound nearly as ugly and means much the same.

    3. I think Mother Teresa said once that God only gives us as much as we can handle... and that she wished He didn't trust her so much. I have that same feeling. "What doesn't kill us, makes us stronger." How close do we have to come?
      I suppose one could say I'm determined when I set my mind to something. Stubborn. Determined. Pit bull.

  4. Cindi,
    If you lived in Florida, I would surely visit you. Is there a way you can move to Florida, with or w/o your Husband? I feel for you. I've been in your situation-luckily, I had a place to go. I'm sending prayers for the Higher Power to steer you in the right direction for you.

    1. Cindy, We would visit! I have a place to go, just no way to get there just now. But I know that things will fall into place, when the timing is right... and again all the planets are in alignment!

  5. You write so beautifully, and it's apparent you are an incredibly strong person. I say, do whatever it takes to get back to your "home".... It will help you heal.

    1. Thank you, Karen. I'm in awe of your words and blog, and humbled by the compliment. I'm hoping to be home before the end of May... just in time for summer!


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