Letting go the Bag finally!!
So I have been doing alot thinking about my life and how I needed to change it. I am so tired of going to the same clubs and seeing the same people. I am tired of pretending to be something I am not. I am tired of being fooled by people, but most of all I am tired of fooling myself. I am not 21 anymore! I am not single and free from responsiblities. I am a mother and no matter how hard it is for me to accept, I am not a child anymore. I am to blame for my shortcomings in life. I can no longer dwell on the fact that I will never really hear my mother or father say I love you or embrace me with a hug. But I know that my mother loves me and why do I need to hear it. And why do I long so much for another man love as if he will protect me from the battle I fight in my mind.
As far as my father goes I remember being his little girl. I remember loving him. And those are the thoughts I carried of him for sooo many years. I never remembered anything bad except waving goodbye and wondering why he couldn’t even smile. I was only 3 and I just knew it must of been my fault. He had given me a bag to hold for him and I promised to only give it to him but when he was no where to be found for days, it was in those few moments that I lost my childhood. I wanted to make daddy proud. He had chosen me over my much older brother or sister to hold something that was given with such pride. I waited like it was Christmas for him to come and ask for it back and couldn’t wait to see how proud he was going to be of me. I wasn’t going to be the baby anymore. I was finally going to be heard instead of dismissed as just the 3 year old blabbling. But the voice inside my head told me to give it to my mom. Then she asked where I got it and then everything changed. I know the voice inside was God. But at the time I felt like I failed him. So really, tell me how this little girl could really remember anything bad about my daddy. I blocked it out and only remembered the love and the trust he had in me and how I should have never broke his promise and I stopped trusting that voice inside.
But now I am grown and I still remember that bag I held for him and I know it was cocaine. He held on to that bag as I waved goodbye. His eyes filled with sadness, fear, regret, and maybe remorse. But not for losing his family but just to fuel the fire to his next high. You would think he would get over his self pity and try to treat me like the adult he treated me when he gave me the bag and try to explain that it was not my fault and i did the right thing. But no he couldn’t even wave and stared straight into my eyes but he couldn’t let the bag go. And he probably, like many of us, made excuses on why he is the way he is and why he couldn’t change. That excuse he made for himself sent me to even more confusion.
We moved with another man in NC and that is where I lost what any piece of child I had. I was a child, a baby or at least I was suppose to be. I shouldn’t have had the stress of wondering if my daddy was ever going to forgive me and when this stranger in my house who was my “new daddy” was touching me and i was made to promise to say nothing. I could only think that this was my punishment and i couldn’t break another promise because of the pain it caused everyone. I just prayed every night that my daddy would come save me. But I guess his secret pain that held him back and believe he couldn’t stop to not just save himself but save us.
When I was 7 we left him. My mother started dating a wonderful man but she was damaged and broken. She didn’t allow us to talk about what happened or show love so she dated this man for 10 years but would not marry him until I moved out. She didn’t want to risk her children hurting for her bad choices in men. And when I got pregnant at 15 I got married so she could get married to the man that became my everything. The father that came to save me but things didn’t work out that way. They broke up right before the wedding. Once again everything changing. On the day of the wedding he drove me to the church and my heart was crying out but my mouth could not trust my heart to sing. I wanted to tell him I loved him and he was the only father I knew. Because every night that I prayed for my daddy to come save me and I thouught I wasn’t worthy. He was the one that saved me and God couldn’t have sent anyone better. But instead I felt sorry for myself and couldn’t trust that voice inside and listened to the bad thoughts that told me i didn’t belong because they were not together and I was not his blood. I saw the same pain in his eyes as i did my father but never said a word. Two months go by and I am burdened with the thoughts again and wanted to let him know i wanted him to be the grandfather to my child but I feared I would remind him of my mother and was afraid he would kill himself. I cried like I cried when I hide in the woods and was allowed to cry about my real father every night for a week. Then one morning I woke to hear what I feared the most. He killed himself without ever hearing me say I love you.
Which brings me to the point feeling sorry for myself and making excuses for why I can’t do certain things or excuse me for acting in certain ways has only caused me misery. I can’t be ignorant to reality anymore. My father was not this great guy that I wanted him to be as a child. And I do believe that you don’t really know who you are until you know what you come from. This is why I am writing this not for anyone to feel sorry for me but to stop holding everything inside where I choose to forget and remember the things I promise myself because I am only hurting myself. Tonight I am choosing to remember that like my father’s self pity broke my soul I am no better if I do the same maybe not the same actions but like I know my step father never died thinking I didn’t love him just because I never said it. Why should I dwell and make it cause tension between my mother and me because she doesn’t say it. I know. And I know we have all heard i love you from people that never did but you never felt and knew it. I choose to blame myself for us leaving my dad and “forgot” that he beat my mother when he was home. Came home one day and almost shot her before. And when I went through an abusive relationship for two years I thought it was normal or maybe I got to feel more sorry for myself. I am drawn to men to feel safe. But I am the only one that can save me, from myself. I researched to my father tonight hoping to get answers. I would like to see him but I am not going to let it consume me but I felt like I needed answers and now I am not so sure. What I found was shocking and only left me having more questions. I am done with not knowing. I know that I too must let go of that bag he let destroy him. My children, my mother, my sister, my brother, and whatever destiny God has planned for me needs me and that is all I need.
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