No Is Never Enough (Previously published “With All The Lies, Who Am I?”)

Being ignored as a child, I wasn’t taught anything that I was supposed to have been. Instead I learned how to lie to cover my butt and save myself a beating. As I grew a little older, it just became ingrained.  I would make up things to explain why something was broken, or missing, or just not satisfactory to my mother.

I do believe that she never had one good thing to say about any of my accomplishments.  I wasn’t real at times like this.  I used to perform music at school concerts. Band, choir, duets, solos, even playing the piano, which she didn’t know I could do.  She was always there because she had to take me there.  But she never said a word about it at any time after.

I felt I didn’t do it well enough.  I wasn’t good enough, and that’s why she didn’t like me.  I learned that at a very young age, but just existed in a world where all these people around me (only in school) didn’t like me either.  I was smart and they didn’t like that.

But one thing that really stands out today, is how I was never allowed to be sick.  She had to admit that I was sick when I came home from Kindergarten with Chicken Pox.  So I missed some school due to that.  Once I was well again, I never stayed at home, no matter how sick I felt.  I had a running total of perfect attendance at school, right up until my Senior year, when my parents and I got stranded in a blizzard and no one was allowed to be on the roads for any reason.

The police took us to the Salvation Army, who took us to this rickety, old hotel, where people actually lived.  There was one room for the three of us.  We spent 4 or 5 days there, I can’t remember for sure, but for me it was pure hell.  But that broke my perfect attendance record.

Now she’s gone and I can go out if I want to, or I can stay home if I want to.  I still feel guilty, though, if I don’t go somewhere that I was supposed to go.  I have to make up a story as to why I wasn’t going.  My reasons were never good enough.  Sometimes I went anyway, because of the guilt I was feeling.  But I’m still never good enough. And just saying “no” is never enough…

~ van ~

Ever Have One Of Those Days?

Ever had a day when you’re all stuck up in your head?
Ever had one of those days you remember nothing you’ve read?
Ever had one of those days you had nothing to do?
Ever had one of those days you have tons to do?

Today I sat here in my chair,
I did not go anywhere,
I could not read a book,
I just couldn’t find the hook.

Scan_20150109 (61)Today I had nothing to eat,
Because I wouldn’t get out of my seat.
I could not read all that email,
The numbers made me want to wail.

Ever had a day when you want to stay abed?
Ever had a day when all thoughts have fled,
Ever had a day when everything’s numb?
Ever had a day when you need someone?

I am having all those days…

It Is Almost Over

Christmas came, but there were no presents, not even a phone call or two. I guess they were too busy to call me and wish me a merry Christmas. Tonight, my mind went racing back to a period of time in my life, when I had no one but a bottle of vodka.
Vodka became my companion, my friend, my family, my lover. I couldn’t exist without my vodka. I tried on more than one occasion to switch to beer, but then I just had more and more beers.
It took many years, to kick away that lover, and discover that I did have other people in my life, including my family. My family is reduced down to two siblings and their spouses, and approximately 13 cousins, second and third cousins.
Today, my father is gone, my mother is gone, and I am alone, with a sad little tree lit up in the corner of my living room.
I can hear what is really talking here . . . depression. It has come rushing back to be my constant companion now, and I am embracing it with open arms. Christmas is almost over, and the pain with decrease gradually, for the most part…

I Needn’t Be Sad!

My last post expressed the sadness about experiencing Christmas without my mother.
I have since had a change of heart. God has given me the greatest gift of all – the gift of love, from Him and for others. That is something to celebrate and feel good about.
Christmas is all about this precious gift given to me in the birth of His Son, Jesus Christ. This is what I should be celebrating, not who I am with, where I am, or how many presents I get.
I am not expecting any gifts this year, but I have the greatest gift of all, and that is all that I need.
I needn’t be sad about that!

Trying To End The Loneliness

I sit here in this chair all day,
And then I wonder why,
Why each day it is this way,
I wish that I were high.

I do not go and seek someone,
But stay here in this chair,
I don’t really get anything done,
But yet, I’ve gone nowhere.

How can I meet someone new?
Find a way to have some fun,
What is it that I should do,
To find that special one?

It seems that I’m the only one,
To go out and do something new,
Then maybe this war would be done,
And I’d  no longer be blue.

– van –

Amazing Love

Amazing Love
Amazing Love (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

Amazing love, how can it be,
That you, my King would honor me?

Those first two lines of the refrain from ‘Amazing Love’, have run around in my head all morning. And I ask myself, “How can it be?”

I grew up thinking that everything that happened to me, was my fault; that I had done something to deserve the abuse, both at home and at school, and beyond.

Once I had gotten away from the abuse at home, it seemed that I sought it out from other people, always from men who were ready and willing to accommodate me.

I felt that I deserved it, that I wasn’t worthy of anything better. And so the abuse went on. An unwanted pregnancy left me nauseas and all alone. Alone in a big city, with nowhere to turn.

After that is when I started drinking more heavily. There was a bar right up around the corner from where I lived, easily within walking distance.

As the years went by, I no longer looked for abuse from others, but turned inward for it. With the help of the alcohol, and mental illness lurking in the background, I started taking my anger out on myself. This went on for years, and I was in an out of psychiatric wards for many years. At some point, I became unable to work, due to my mental health.

I was put on so much medicine, that sometimes I didn’t know if I were coming or going, until eventually I reached a toxic state from one of the meds.

I don’t remember that time period, and I’m rather glad that I don’t. After many years with the same doctor, I was eventually stabilized on my meds, and my erratic behavior occurred a little less often.

But this lifestyle had taken a toll, and I was no longer able to work. I was then living alone, relying on what little money the government gave me.

I have since been diagnosed with MS, so now I have a mental and physical disability. But I haven’t given up. Before my mental collapse, I was able to go back to school and earn a bachelor’s degree.

I am now taking the second in a series of website design classes and actually have a goal for my life. I want to build my website, which I will use to get clients who wish to have a website or blog designed for them.

I am still alone, but I’m looking at opportunities to change that as well. Not disabled, but differently abled. I have since come to know God, and that is where I first heard that line, “Amazing Love, how can it be? That you, my King would honor me?”

The answer to that is that He loves me.

Alone, Again

I’m sitting here, getting dark,

Something’s not quite on the mark.

I’m looking at another one,

A Saturday, not yet begun.

A lot of time spent in a daze,

I do know what’s the next phase.

Nowhere to go, nothing to do,

Church awaits, I’m not through

Whatever’s going on inside,

From which I’ve tried and tried to hide.

It never, ever goes away,

Just sits and waits another day.

A day alone, in the dark,

With no one , , ,

– van –

How Do I Really Feel?

To those who see me every day,

I may seem somewhat quiet.

Maybe a little far away,

But I eat a different diet,

But no one really ever knows,

What’s going on inside another

Maybe you are one of those,

Who had my kind of father.

He went to work everyday,

Came home each night for dinner,

Then wasted the night away,

Appearing some kind of winner.

He volunteered as a fireman,

Created things in the garage,

If only I’d been able then,

To tell of his real barrage.

Creeping in during the dark of night,

Everyone else was asleep,

Thinking that everything’s alright,

The secret I had to keep.

For if I actually was to tell,

I’d be told it was a lie,

And I would be going straight to hell,

He was such a real nice guy.

I was the only one who really knew,

What happened late at night,

Each time my anger grew and grew,

How could I make this right?

There was no way to make it right,

What’s been done is done,

Why don’t I give up the fight?

But then he’s really won.

The anger grows inside of me,

Even now so many years since,

But I’m the one who’s failed to see,

The loss of innocence.

– van –

Don’t Know Which Way To Turn?


As a child, there was so much abuse, I didn’t know which way to turn, who I could trust, who I could talk to.  Since I had nowhere to turn I turned inward.

Even as a young child I started turning my pain onto my own self, through hurting myself physically.  This happened not once, but repeatedly.  What was my rationalization for this?  I had none except for the need for attention.

I sought out attention wherever I thought I might find it.  At home, I was getting all kinds of negative attention, or no attention at all.

But the worst attention happened at night – not every night but too many nights.  I would lie in my bed, listening to my heart pound, thinking it was his footsteps coming up the hall.

When it actually was footsteps, there was nowhere to turn.  My room contained a bed and a dresser.  That’s it.  I’d feign sleep, hoping he would go away and leave me alone.  This rarely worked, the next thing I knew, I was feeling the bed sag, as he lay down beside me.

Nowhere to turn but to turn inward.  I trusted no one, talked to no one.  I left home at 17, never to live there again.

Now there was a gap in my life, an empty space that I desperately sought to fill.  Put a little alcohol in me, and I’d do whatever.  I was used to it.  It was just more of the same, just different faces.

I sought refuge in the Navy, which ironically has many more men than women enlisted.  My recruiter got me drunk . . . and you know the rest of the story.  PTSD occurs in so many of these cases, and mine was just worsened by the Navy.

I was discharged prematurely because of the trouble I got into due to my alcoholism.  From there I just bounced around, adding mental illness to alcoholism, until my life fell apart.

Today, I take a lot of medications, about 19 – 20 every day.  Five of them are for my mental illness, three for the MS, one for my thyroid, and the rest for miscellaneous problems such as acid reflux, arthritis pain relief and others.

Now, the depression is returning, and once again I don’t know which way to turn.  I’ve thought about suicide, hospitalization, or just safety at the local crisis center.  But I do none of these.  I just sit here, day after day, with my insides roiling, and not knowing which way to turn.

~ van ~

Walking On The Edge

Walking On The Edge

Ever feel like you’re walking on the edge?

As I child I was always walking on the edge,
Of pain, of fear, of abuse.

My initial abusers are both gone now,
As are those I allowed to,
As a young adult.

I am getting older now,
And I have lived alone
For almost 18 years now.

So now, I’m back,
Walking on the edge again.
The edge of fear, of blame, of shame,
The edge of night,
And the edge of pain.

How do I keep from falling in,
When there isn’t much to hold onto?
My hopes and dreams are long gone,
Cast to the wayside by careless measures.

I have my faith in God,
But mostly I feel as though
I’m walking on the edge…

When there is not much to hold onto.

~ van ~