Sunday Confessions: The Gas Epidemic

 

During my eighth month of pregnancy with Mini, I began going to the doctor three times a week. My pregnancy was high-risk and I had a lot of complications. My doctor was about an hour away from where we lived. 

Anyhow, I had to take the Metro there and back, which was a three hour trek because I had to wait on the next bus, etc. 

I would usually leave our apartment at 6am, and not get back home until 5 or 6 that evening. I was always exhausted.  

One morning during my ninth month, I was sitting in the waiting room of the doctor's office. I was my usual dog-ass tired. Plus, I was experiencing so much gas. Just so much. Apparently I dozed off in that overcrowded, tiny room. 

I felt someone gently shaking my shoulder. It was a nurse. I guess they had been calling my name. I noticed that the two people that had been sitting beside me were no longer there. They were standing against the wall. 

My face immediately turned red. I knew what I had done. I could smell it. I had passed gas in my sleep. I went to get my huge body out of that tiny seat, and PASSED GAS AGAIN. 

The room was soooo damn quiet. I wanted to hide right then. Everyone looked at me and a few kids started laughing. How flippin' embarrassing. 

Let's just say, I made a point to stay awake the last few times I had to go. 

Sunday Confessions: Resilience

 Resilience is inside all of us.  Even when something unimaginable happens and you feel like it will absolutely break you, somehow you will bounce back from it. 

No matter how many times your heart gets broke, most of us will still mend it and be ready to love again. 

No matter how many times people let you down and disappoint you, most of us will be willing to trust others again. 

No matter how many times people show you their worst side, most of us will still believe there is good left in them. 

It's amazing when you think about just how resilient a human is. We can  bounce back from nearly anything. 

 I've experienced a lot of horror in my life and even when I think I am emotionally bent to my breaking point, somehow I come back from it. 

 I come back stronger. I'm better prepared for the next time something  happens. I'm resilient. 

Sunday Confessions: Rejection

 Today's topic is about rejection and although I have experienced a lot of that in my life, the one person that rejected me and hurt me the most, was my father. 

That's been on my mind quite a bit lately. Especially with Father's Day coming up in a couple weeks, and with the issues with my mom, who was forced to be a dad and a mom to me. 

My mom divorced my dad when she was pregnant with me. I only saw him a few times as a child. He moved on and found a new family. 

 When I was 12, my father took a sudden interest in me. A man that had never cared for me before, suddenly wanted me around him. 

 I was thrilled. In my young mind, I thought my dad loved me and wanted me around him so we could bond. 

Little did I know, I was about to experience the worst emotional, physical, mental and sexual abuse imaginable. 

I ask myself now, why did I allow it to continue for so long? Why didn't I tell someone sooner? Why did his acceptance mean so much to me? 

I wish I knew the answers to that. Even now, I do not. 

I do know what he put me through made me the type of person I am now. 

 Abusing someone, or even an animal, is not in me. I can't even say cruel things to anyone. I know first hand how badly it hurts. Instead, I try to always show kindness. To show love. To show acceptance. 

As some of you know, I write poetry as well. Below you'll find a poem I wrote for my father. Writing is the only release I have. It's what kept me from going insane. 

"How dare you help create me, and then just walk out on me?

Never once did you try to make me a part of your new family. 

Instead I was an outcast, I was never good enough. 

I could never please you, never earn your fatherly love. 

But your hatred and resentment was as clear as the light of day. 

I saw in your eyes every single time you looked my way. 

I felt it with the beatings you felt I so richly deserved. 

It was in your voice every time you ever uttered a word. 

Yet  I was desperate for your love, for your acceptance of me. 

But your heart held no love..it was dark , cold and empty. 

Instead of allowing your cruelty to turn me into a person like you, 

I became better, I'm able to love..which was more than you could ever do. "

I will end my post with this: Rejection hurts. I don't care who you are or how old you are, it's painful and it's tough to deal with.