All posts by tanya

Where does a girl turn?

Here I am lost. My dad passed away last July. It has tore my heart in a few directions. I am so broken that I was not by his side. I am so broken cause I will never really know how he really felt about me. He was sick for many years. He was kinda child like. His memory was no longer the same. So as I walk thru this turmoil of my life, I question if there is anything after death. I question if he knows how he was with me and my brothers? I can go thru the years and try to have peace. But I will never know why. He is gone. And I still suffer the consequences of my dad. Does he see now? Does he feel what he has done? Either way I want to know, where is my dad? How do I live? I have left my job for a reason that I am ashamed of. I am lost. I am so depressed. I need help with the 2 sons I have here and I am still raising. I have very little strength left.

A life Update

It has been a while since I continued this broken journey. At the moment I am on a leave of absence from my job. I am at a very scary low in my life. Depression and anxiety mix has beat me down. Also health has taken a toll on my daily life.

I will just say, I don’t know where I am headed. I can not seem to rise above just how tired I am and confused. I have no desire left for anything anymore. I try to seek help but can not explain anything in order. Everyday I wake up hoping something snaps. I hope to feel a bit better. But truly I am not sure. This hopelessness is the biggest I ever felt. I just am unsure what to do.

Welcome to my Closet.

Welcome to my closet. I want to take some time here. I think a lot of my feelings are caused by this event. As I write this blog, I will try to be there in my thoughts. It is a bittersweet entry.

My room was narrow. One long wall was my single bed. The opposite wall to that was a closet.With my whole self, I am going to take the time to go in the room. Looking at the closet and entering the closet, my question is why was I going in there? I am not able to put my feelings of why I felt safe there. Was there something going on in my house that scared me enough to enter? Why was sadness so present? When I wrote letters to my Dad on that typewriter, was the tears really cause I missed him? My mind bounces all over the place when I try and bring this together. Entering the closet will be a mystery of why.

Climbing up has no memory. Being in there is so quiet. Again, the safe feeling is big. But my question to myself is, why are you in there? Why are you needing to feel safe and hide in a closet?

When my older boys were young, at bedtime I would keep all the lights on in our house. Lock every window and door and also put a chair against the door of the room we slept in. I would sleep in that closet in the room we were all in. I lived with so much fear. It was hard for me to be a brave Mom at that time. I was under the age of 20 years old. There would be times I would sleep in the playpen with the baby. I remember shaking inside and sweating in fear trying to sleep. Every morning when I would wake up, it was a relief of making it thru another night. The mystery is beyond me. I remember begging my mother to stay with me. Begging her crying at her feet as she walked away and got into her car and drove off. Is there something that I did so wrong? I would have nightmares about my mom being murdered and left for dead under the big window at the house we lived in. Every turn of my life has been living in fear and withdrawn in life.

There is another broken memory from my bedroom as a child. There are years that are blocked from me, but there is a moment I think about all the time. When entering my room the bottom of my bed was by my bedroom door. I recall this blue itchy dress I wore a lot. But this memory is me laying at the end of my bed. But my back was to the end and my legs are being held open and up. I feel frozen in this memory. There is a male figure that comes to this memory but I can’t put a face to this person. Why does my memory close my mind on this broken memory? So after I watched the show, The Girl in the Closet, it was relatable to my heart. She too has had a rough walk in life. Not being able to trust anything. Many things about what she is going thru today I can relate. I just want to have a chance to be told I am not the blame for my feelings. I am worth something in life. That I am loved and worth loving. But it causes me to question if I can. Can I be like most? I am a single Mom, withdrawn from my life. I have dreams and those dreams have been shattered by the nightmares I live every day.

I hope as I unfold all of this closet life, I find freedom in me. I can prove that no matter what I have been thru, I can still walk thru life and give my kids a home and all they need. But emotionally it has been rough

<script data-ad-client="ca-pub-5062755612513159" async src="https://pagead2.googlesyndication.com/pagead/js/adsbygoogle.js"></script>

It has been a while..

It has been a while since my last post. I have struggled with the memories. The pain it has caused me to open up broken, painful wounds. There are reasons why I have to be careful how I tread on these waters. In the present time, I am still broken. I suffer with, emotional pain I don’t know what to do with. Unsure how to live in life, without feeling so withdrawn.

I watch a show not long ago, it triggered a lot of memories. It was called, The girl in the Closet. It felt so real to me. Even though I was not locked in my closet, why was I there? It was an update show 10 years later. I can’t tell you how much this reflected my life. With how she suffers in life now is almost how I live. I have has such a hard time figuring this out. I wanted and still desire to be in the closet, it felt safe to me. I have thought about cleaning out my own closet and going in to see if I could feel safe again.I have so much in my life going on. I am a Mom as well. And this is so hard for me. When I am dealing with anger within my teen, I can’t figure out how to help.Nothing makes sense. There are times just removing myself from the hard stuff helps, cause I don’t know..

I work full time, and this too is hard. I have to work full time for my kids. I am a single Mom. If I think about even taking time off, I have to look at the dollars and cents. It dictates everything. Some want to go away, some take time off to just relax. I book time off to get my house in order or just do more for my kids. Never ever can I say I do the day for just to take a breather. So I guess the closest feeling is what I am missing. Will I ever be okay and free? What can I do so I feel okay with buying myself that new outfit? Instead of the clearance rack to have clothes on my back. I have clothes that are 10 years old! But then again, I am not about things. I really desire to have a freeing life with curtains open and only needing to go to my room for bedtime and not to hide. What a day that would be.

I just needed to share where I am at this point. I will continue on with my broken memories soon. I need to back up a little on the house in Sydney. I know that if I can’t unravel the reason why I stayed in the closet, I can’t heal my spirit to live free now. Thank you for being here. I am grateful for you.

<script data-ad-client="ca-pub-5062755612513159" async src="https://pagead2.googlesyndication.com/pagead/js/adsbygoogle.js"></script>

One Day Theses Ashes will be Turned to Beauty.

As I try and focus on my memories and the reason I feel its time. I am wondering these days about if I had been loved as a child, I would not have to just read about actions of love. I have had feelings for people only to lose them. But these feelings, were they love feelings?

Okay with that in mind, I want to share the one and only moment I can remember a bit of affection from my mother. I am just going to take you to where I was. It was night time. I was in bed for the night, laying on my back. Covered over and feeling like I am watching my surroundings. My mother enters my bedroom, all dressed up and what took my eye was her bright red lipstick. My mother was going out. She came to bring my a cheese slice. And it is the only time I remember getting a goodnight kiss from her. I have carried that moment with me all of my life. Always questioning, am I lovable?

I just laid there and must of fell asleep. I have no memory of my next day.

I recall having a bit different relationship with my father. We share a common food. Since he worked in the same yard as our house was. He would come in for lunch daily. I remember a few times sitting in my chair sharing some green tomatoes with my father. No words were spoken. But he would always watch the flintstones. Of course, I would watch them too. But what I find unusual was I would like to just look at my father’s face. Not sure why. But I can sit her and see his face while he watched the show on the television. Still to this day, I do like to see my father’s looks.

I can’t describe how I feel thru a lot of these memories, but some I can feel like I am right there all over again. It sure has been carried thru to my life and friendships.

I have to take you back for a moment at the Bridgetown house. It was a moment that I will never understand. Since we are on the topic of love. There was this one time, my brother and I was outside running around. Out back of the house, there were high wild rose bushes. I just so happened to run thru the wrong way. The whole side of my face was cut from on side to the other. Boy did that sting. So I went into the house, ran into the bathroom to see my face. I ran up to my room, I did not understand the fear I had. But sure enough, my father was hollering to me.I was scared to death. If anyone can help me understand why you get a slap in the face from your parent, when you just hurt yourself? Why was I being slapped and why was my father so angry at me for getting hurt? I will never know what was going thru his mind when he saw all the blood. Was he scared and reacted the only way he knew how?

I am going to end this blog here. I am also going to try and do more entries a week. I did not know once I started this blog journey, just how painful it would be. But I will heal as I find peace. Thank you for the support.

<script data-ad-client="ca-pub-5062755612513159" async src="https://pagead2.googlesyndication.com/pagead/js/adsbygoogle.js"></script>

Going Back to some Memories from Sydney.

I have had an incredible intake of confusion the last week. Finding out some stuff that I never understood. Living for 10 years at the Lingan Golf and Country club, I will need to unfold the emotions here. I want to look back and know I am free.

Those who have been reading my memories, thank you. To those who understand my writing, thank you. I have to pull back. I need to understand what is happening and what happened. I find it overwhelming that I was left alone so much. My brothers have made some comments about wondering where I was. I often wondered, where they were and my family. How can someone be so alone in a family of six?

I have many questions. I have a lot of open scars. Where do I begin? My closet was my safe place. So I want to begin in there. I started drawing a rough sketch of what I can recall of my closet as a child. Flashbacks came. In my memory, I went there. So quiet and sad. I can remember just sitting with my head down. Unsure why yet. It was like sitting in a space with no time. No emotion. Alone and really was I a person that mattered to anyone? I am feeling a light, brightness in the back of my closet. It was safe and that is all I know. But why did I choose to be in my room and up in my closet? Why did I not want to be with my family?

Something tells me I was not welcome. I recall my parents having company many times. But our place was to not be involved. I learned to not  speak or be seen. But why? Was I bad? Ugly? There was no love in my family. I was never told from my parents if they loved me. Back to the closet with love missing made some reality for me today. Without love what can a child feel? I know my mom wanted a girl. She told the story before. When I was older having my own kids. The doctor told her to wait two years after my brother and she would have a girl. So if she put the time in and listened to the doctor. Why then did she have a want for a girl? I am the only girl of my family. Did I fail her? Them?

One of my brothers shared with me a few days ago, that we were dropped off at community services. I don’t remember this day. We both agreed that it would have been better than what we lived. Someone to care for us, education. How life would have been different. So much better off than we are now. Regardless of what some may think. I have failed my children. But I want to better me for them. I have been a mess since birth. I have struggled with these memories since I was young.

I have seen a man burn in his car at a young age because my mom dragged me to see the accident.I was asked by my mom to find a hammer and kill my dad. I have seen stuff that has haunted me for a lifetime. As I unfold and try to stay focused I will do whatever it takes to overcome. The many many let downs in my life, and millions of tears later, I am ready.

3rd Entry: From Sydney to Bridgetown, N.S.

Here I go, I will do what I can to unfold the broken memories, from the move. But here is the thing. There were a few moves I believe. I can recall feeling tension and worry. My parents were not the same. I feel like when the tension started in the house, I started to be more present. Not that I left my room or closet often unless we were doing things. I could hear more fighting, Now we are still on the Golf course at this time. We had a cottage in the country. Something I enjoyed with a huge beautiful tree. No matter where I went, I found a safe place. Not only a safe place but a place to enjoy the connection with nature. As I write about this tree I so loved, I can still feel my spirit connect with the feelings I had, at that moment.

I assume as an adult, we had money to invest in this place. What I remember is a lot of people around. Parties and lots of music.  My Father use to practice in our living room at the house. So that is where my family started to get into the want to learn to play music.

So let me tell a bit about what I also enjoyed at the house on the Golf course. We had a dog, named Spike. He was a soft and gentle fella. My Dad made him a dog house and there was a little fenced in area for him. I slightly remember maybe another dog. But I am not sure. As I write I can feel like we had a puppy. I would lay in the dirt with this dog, talk with him. he was the fasted runner that I ever saw. As a family, we all loved that dog.

I remember going camping with my family. But I remember leaving in this camper that was made by my Father. I can not recall too much on the trips. I can recall everything as if I was alone. I don’t know how to explain this. I remember a lake we fished in and we could walk forever but it would just be shallow water. And always a mussel boil. But as far as what else we did. You might have to ask my family.

So now, with all talk about the house, the cottage. My parents, I gather were doing good in money, but not what was about to be around the corner. Often we would go to a friends place of my parents. Always having a few drinks. This one night was different. Before I even got in the car,late that night I was scared. We took one of their sons home for the night to be with my brothers. My Dad drove us home. My Mom was telling my dad to slow down. But he did not listen. He was drunk and speeding and lost his brakes on the wet grass. He lost control of the car. We slammed into a golf cart and his work van. and straight into the telephone pole. We hit it hard enough that the pole was now slanted. I can tell you if we did not have the golf car to slow down the impact. I don’t think we would have been here. My mom slammed her head into the dash. My brother’s teeth went into his hand. But we survived.

Things became more noticeable to me from here on. We were moving away to the cottage. Things were going to change from here. What I really wanted was Spike the dog to come with us. My father said he would be back to get him. We were moving away from all we knew. Another blow that came was our dog Spike was trying to find us. We lived by a four-lane highway. Our Dog, Spike was killed on the highway. As much as he wanted to be with us, I wanted him to be with us. This would have been our first time losing a dog we loved so much.So maybe that is why I needed that tree, up in behind the cottage.

As far as I know, and what I was told,my parents lost everything. So that is why the move happened. My Father still had his music, and I can imagine that was his happy place. His world is upside down as well as him family. He had to find a job now.

From here in the country, we had to move to Bridgetown. My Dad found a job with CP Rail. We lived in a big house, with a dentist office attached. We had a nice garage in the driveway. I remember the fireplace and the nice wooden floors. Also, we had a nice big yard. Living in Bridgetown was going to be different for us. But we had family there. My Moms sister and her husband lived there. My uncle was a principal of the school and my aunt worked in the kitchen at the elementary school.  One of the sad things for me was my Dad always had to be away it felt. My Dad always worked very hard for his income.

One of the memories I find carried thru with me was his love of Star Trek shows and Mash. I do enjoy these shows still today. My Dad and I also enjoyed green tomatoes.

I really became great cousins with Kimmy. She and I had lots of fun together. One of my memories is the game of Life with her. We would place that for hours. Also the game clue. She would explain things to me that no one had ever told me. One of the most amazing things happened. She would give me a break from home. the unsettled life we were having. She also introduced me to the cabbage patch kids. Not only did I love these dolls, I had a responsibility to sign an adoption paper to own her. I had to take care of her. My Dad bought me a special one. He made sure the one I really desired came home to me. It was not a holiday I don’t think. I was so happy to have this doll. My cousin and I would walk around Bridgetown with our cabbage patch kids in strollers.

At this house, I made my first batch of bread. We were never allowed to touch anything at this point. So I quickly made some dough and shoved it up in the cupboard to rise. I would run up to my room and wait. Checking on the bread and checking to see if my mom was going to show up. My poor little bowl of dough kinda raised. it also had a weird smell. But the color was right and I was excited that I was able to create something to eat.

I can remember a lot of bad things that happened at this house. I also recall a good friend I made…I can’t remember her name at this point in my life. I wish I would have known I would lose memory at 41 years old. but I will try and get as much down for me and my kids. I will try and figure out on this writing journey why I am who I am.

Day 2 Continued; The Mysteries of my Closet

So I am onto the 2nd entry. Unfolding and remembering my closet has been very emotional. There is a reason for everything and everything I will try and figure out. As I reflect on my kids at this point, I can’t help but realize just how some of these things I have done as a child, comes out in my son. They say our kids mirror what we do.So this is why I feel it is important to unfold and heal now more than ever.

Now let me unfold a Christmas. The easy bake oven must have come that year. My birthday is Christmas day.Some say it must have been awesome to have a birthday on this day,let us stop with that thought. It was not. So that Christmas, my parents suggested I make my own cake for my birthday, that morning. Sitting here typing this, kinda makes me sad to think, there were no plans..no big cake to celebrate my day? I made the cake in the kitchen with my easy bake oven. I even topped it with sprinkles that came with my set. This was the only birthday I recall as a child. It was not until I got older that I remember my next birthday.

I am kinda jumping ahead a bit. There is some I could cover here. I want to make this entry about why I guess, the holidays can be different for me. We had moved to Bridgetown when I was young. Maybe grade 2. My Dad worked for CP rail. So we moved around a bit for that. But that Christmas I remember, I laid down under the Christmas tree with my baby doll. I laid it in a box with garland from the leftover decorations. To me, it was baby Jesus. I did not recall knowing much about who he was. We attended Sunday school every Sunday in Sydney. I don’t know what I learned there. All that strikes me is being dropped off and picked up.

So this Christmas Eve, I felt there was trouble. My parents were drinking. A lot of fighting and Christmas felt ruined. I curled up with my baby and felt very sick to my stomach. I tried to drift off to sleep. The fighting got intense. I remember my Dad doing something to my Mom and he licked her out. I felt helpless. My Mom was begging to come in..what could I do? Nothing. I don’t remember too much after that as I figured I must of fell asleep. Unfortunately, I don’t remember what that morning was like or even if I got gifts. I do not even remember where my brothers were.

<script data-ad-client="ca-pub-5062755612513159" async src="https://pagead2.googlesyndication.com/pagead/js/adsbygoogle.js"></script>

The Mysteries of my Closet.

I am finally getting a chance to put my heart on this blog. After a wake-up call weeks ago, the doctor suggested, I do something for me. I am a single working Mom. And all I do is work at a job and work at home with the usual duties of a mom.

As I have been thinking about my life that is flashing before me, I have questioned a pattern in my life since childhood. Why was my closet as a child so peaceful to me? I don’t have a lot of memories of growing up with the surrounding of my family. But what comes thru strong is my closet. It was a big closet, it had a large board in it so it was split. So I would climb up and spend many hours there. Just sitting. But let me share 2 things that come out strong for me. Two things I had that I loved to play with. One was a typewriter and the other was an easy bake oven. Just to add to this closet mystery, I am a baker and have many years of cooking, and I love to write.

Let’s continue to unfold. A lot will say, I am crazy. How did I not know that our childhood is a reflection of our adulthood? Well, really it was that wake-up call, that I started looking deeper into my life. It is by far a life I am tired of living.

So now I will get back to when I remember the days of my closet. I can’t even recall how old I was in the years of living in our house. It was in Sydney, Cape Breton Island. My parents looked after the grounds of the Lingan Golf and Country Club. I guess I can describe my bedroom as a plain little room, at the top of the stair of out two story home. As you walked into my room my bed was against the wall to the right. I had a long window, and as you entered my bedroom I had a little area that carved into the corner. That is where my little table was with my typewriter. Along the left of my room was the tall closet. It was a safe place, it was quiet and peaceful.

As I try to remember my days as a child there,I feel mute. A voice I don’t remember. I do recall many tears over my typewriter, my Dad would spend a lot of hours working. He also would play as a lead singer and guitar player in his band. So I recall singing, “Daddy come home a day, Daddy come home?” Not sure why I had so much pain in my room, alone day in and day out. When I type this I can feel myself as that little girl. I do have a few other spots, that I liked to be near as a child. Out back of our house was a huge garden, surrounding the garden was a tree edge. I would hide along there so I would not be seen. I wish I knew why I need to hide and not want to be involved.Would something have happened to have made me feel this way?

Well unsure about what has happened. But let us keep unfolding. As I try to fit the pieces together, I wonder if as I write this blog, things will come up. I remember one summer day, we enjoyed a BBQ. My father was very handy at making things. I was in awe of the bbq he made out of bricks, our grill was an oven rack. Pretty cool for a kid. Well, a kid who was already in love how things were cooked. We had a lot of guests that day, unsure what we were celebrating. I don’t remember even being happy that day either. The only way I can describe this was being mute and unemotional. I felt like I was going along in a life that I was unsure of.

This is really hard to write in a certain timeline. As I have flashes and feelings but not a daily remembrance of my childhood. I did get from someone a toy mouse. It was the cutest little gray,soft stuffed mouse. One day we were on our way home from somewhere and I was holding the mouse out the window..I dropped him by mistake. My parents would not turn around, I was so upset to tears. I almost feel like he was more than a friend to me. I can’t remember going in the driveway from there..my mind blocks whatever happened from there.

The next thing I would like to talk about is the kitten I had as a child. The kitten was short lived. I really don’t know what happened to him..one day he was there and the next vanished. It seems to me my attachment issues were created at a very young age. So much has been taken from my life. It’s no wonder I don’t like things and have a hard time with relationships.