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Something I realized....
14 years ago
((Posting this here, cause this is my family too, not just the peeps on FB...))
I don't know why I keep writing this over and over, when I know that I won't be able to post it. I keep deleting it, and the emotion behind these notes keeps getting worse and worse, and it hurts my heart more and more as I keep typing it. I am just chicken shit.
I realized something while I was skimming through my facebook friends and family, and realized that each and every person has a story to tell, within my life. Someone, did something, and now I will remember them forever. For that, I am thankful for the friends I have, and my friends will always have a special place in my heart. Some of you have seats within my heart, where you will stay forever. Like my family, my father, sister, brother, grandmother, mammaw, pappaw, and even my birth mother. Gosh, when I think of her, I remember what she used to look like, I remember her smile and the way she used to talk to me when I was growing up, I think of all the positive things, and that is who sits on the chair in my heart. My birth mother from long ago.
My father will always have a special place sitting in my heart, because it was him that rescued me from damnation, he will always be that brave soldier that pulled me from the burning building, and taught me how to walk again. I wouldn't be here if it wasn't for his support, or his mother's support. Hell, my grandma Bettie has been the best thing to happen to me in the last 3 years, and for that I am grateful to have her in my life.
These people, friends and family, have always done things for me, bent over backward and inside out...to make me feel alone, naked, in the dark. I will never forget those friends and family that took their own shirt off their back, and offered it to me, even if it was too small...because they didn't want me to suffer, even though I put myself in that situation. I am glad though, that through thick n thin, I have had people to count on.
It's just so hard, to walk this road alone. I mean, in my own religion "The Fool" walks the road alone, to make his own mistakes, and learn the tools of the trade that he has to learn, that he must travel alone, so to strengthen himself, and become the best person in society. The fool though, has many teachers along the way. His parents, and his parents parents. This fool however, misses the most important member of his teaching team. I love Karen, with all the love a son could for his mother, but...there is one little spot in my heart, a throne of sorts, that nobody else can fill, the seat doesn't sit right for anyone else, but Her. Yeah, my birth mother.
I hate that my mother moved us to Missouri, to be near her folks, because she may or may not have known previously that she was going to divorce my father. I hate that the night before we left from Dan and Hazel's...family friends at the time...that I saw her crying at their dining room table, with a phone in her hand. All I did was walk away and went back to playing, but in my heart, I knew then. That very next day, we didn't go home, and that next morning...we went out on the patio of her parents house, and she told us. I remember each of us had a different reaction, my sister was too young, and all I remember is that she wanted to go watch TV. My brother, two year difference, the middle child. He broke down and cried. Of course, She cried with him...and then she looked at me, and asked me how I felt about it. I can't remember what I told her, but that day, I died...my heart sank deep. I always, ALWAYS told all the school kids in my school out at recess, who told me that their parents were divorced, that mine would NEVER get one. I didn't cry, I didn't scream...I don't think I experienced any emotion that day. I do remember driving home, and my father's truck was empty, and the closet on his side was. I sat in that closet for hours, where his stuff used to be and I think that was the day, that I just...locked my heart up.
What is a teenager to do? Your parents, who you thought were the strongest, most amazing people. Hell, my father was Cyclopse (From X-Men) and my mother was Jean Grey (also from x-men). Never apart, perfect for each other. My heroes. Then, the worst thing in the world happened...my mother told me I was old enough, to decide where I wanted to go, where I wanted to live. Come on, your going to ask your child to chose a side? You know one of the parents was going to get hurt from the decision, it was hard. Though, I felt like my father got the rotten end of the deal, and I thought my mother would love me no matter what, and so I told her I wanted to live with my daddy. That day, the perfect world I had with Melissa Rhodes Deason Blackburn, shattered like someone threw a rock, in a glass house. She and I were never the same again. I never got to go with her to places like I had before, I never got to be the son I was, I ended up becoming a loner, and stayed in my room most of the time.
I hate that afterwords, my father joined the army again, and literally it felt like he JUST joined, and those damned planes hit our buildings. I remember, I was in high school, and in Spanish class when we watched the second tower collapse. They sent us home after that, to be with our families. By this time, my father got a small apartment, right smack in the middle of all three of our schools. Sikeston, the smallest town in the world. I was walking to his apartment, and there he was, my dad, dressed in his camo and loading up his truck. My mother picked me up from like, down the road, and she had been crying, cause her face was red and he was sniffing, and that was when I found out, he was being shipped out. To fight someone elses war, a war that non of our soldiers had to fight. So what if you call me non-patriotic, I don't care. That is my Dad, those were some other kids Fathers that DIED over there, kids that will never have their father.
I hate that he went, and left me in a world where I felt unloved, and unwanted. By this time, I had realized what it was to be a boy, I think we (men) know what I mean. Then I realized that I liked men over women, and that was scary. Reason? Cause my parents, and I mean both of them, put the fear of GOD in me. I remember when my father was giving me the "talk" and told me that if I "touched" myself I couldn't think of anything, because it was a sin. I was like, What? That of course, is another story entirely. I didn't have anyone to talk to about these feelings I had, because of the fear that was instilled in me. I found refuge in friends I made in high school, my best friend Donny, and Erica. I felt better by talking it out, then of course in my youth, I stirred away from the "Christian" belief, because like I told my Grandma Bettie. There is no place for me in "Heaven", because God doesn't allow abominations, because that is what I am, a walking abomination, a sin. I was born this way, not something I decided on a whim. Of course, if you follow the good ol' book, like my grandmother. God doesn't love me. Now please, do not fill my comments with your "Holyier than thou, god loves everyone...blaw blaw blaw" because this is how I felt. I enjoy my religion, right where I am at. Cause, there is no pre-requisite to join....so to speak.
So I finally told my mother, and I think my step father was there. Oh, that's something else. I hate she re-married, and I really hate that Brett had to shower us in gifts to try and get us to like him. I never liked him, sorry...nothing personal to the guy, but he bulldozed his way into our lives, and stole my mother from me. Not to mention, the way he treated me on the last day I was in my mother's house. Which, most of you know the story...or was part of it. I hate that when I told them that I was gay, that they looked at me like I needed to be burned at the stake. My step father, tried to convince me that I was just going through a phase, my mother didn't want to look at me straight in the eye from then on. I was a plague in their home, and that is how they treated me. First, they took my room from me, and I was forced to sleep on a cot, in the dining room, where all I had was an alarm clock, to make sure I got up to go to school. They thought I was going to rape my brother and sister. So I lived like that, OH and let's not forget that I had to GO to her parents house, next door, everyday after school...and endure torture from the elderly couple. My pappaw made me work in his garden, lifting and all that stuff, I ended up with heat rash. My mammaw wasn't a polite woman either, I remember that I joined like EVERY after school ANYTHING just to STAY at the High School, because I didn't want to go to that "Hell on Earth". I remember when I didn't come "home" when I was supposed to, and when my pappaw came looking for me, picked me up, and gave me this lecture. He actually threatened to kill me, now whoever reads this on my mother's side of the family is going to deny it up and down, but they were not there. I was. He said, and I quote, "If you hurt your mother, or brother or sister, I will kill you." My mammaw decided to pipe up, that if I "didn't start obeying, she would kick my ass..." now my mammaw is about to my hip, really short thing, and of course a smart ass teen like me laughed, and my pappaw proceeded to say, "...I will knock you down so she can do it..." I get my height from him too.
I hate that when I wanted to e-mail my father, the truth, I couldn't...my mother forced me to write to him, that everything was perfect and that I missed him. Breathing over my shoulder as I did...little did she know at the time I had informed a lot of my teachers in the High school what was going on, and one teacher was gracious enough to allow me to e-mail my father, the truth. Oh, the length of those e-mails were just...out of this world. I later found out, he thought I was lying, tell he got home, and for like the week I disappeared after they kicked me out, my grandma Bettie, his mother, was worried sick. I finally got in touch with her, and that was the first time that woman saved me from the streets.
Why am I telling this story over and over again? Why am I putting it on facebook? Maybe I am hoping that my mother will read this, and realize the torture she put her eldest son in, the fact that she still tortures me. I refuse to wake up and cry from a nightmare every morning...Where she is on her death bed, and asks for me, and I telling her no. That she can't decide while she is dying, that she wants to have a relationship with me. I hate that I know that I will never have an adult relationship with my mammaw and pappaw, and that I will hear about their death, in the paper or because my baby sister will call me crying, to tell me. You know what? I don't want to know, if they don't want to have a relationship with me, I don't want to know when they die, because that will make it that much harder. I don't want to read about my half brother that I never got to hold, that I never got to be a part of his life while he grew up. I don't want to have a relationship with Brett, at all.
You can't ignore your son forever, you can't just close your eyes, plug your ears, and wish the nightmare was over, because believe it or not, you birthed me. You made me with Paul, my father. I will NOT go anywhere, I will NOT disappear, my memory will live on. You don't want to be a part of my life anymore, stop sending me cards and gifts during CHRISTMAS, which is the only time I hear from you. Your birthday wish? On facebook? Really? Couldn't call me? Well, those calls seem like we are on a business call anyway. I can't be around you, you force hugs...because I want a hug, don't want to hug me, then don't. You make me feel worse when you "try" to have a relationship with me. You shouldn't HAVE to force it. You should just LOVE me because I am your son, "Love is unconditional." I am grown up, and you missed it all. I may not be going to school to be a nurse, and I hate that you were right, but guess what...I am going to school to get my Interior Design degree, something that I REALLY want to do, chased my dream. You tore it down before, telling me I will never make it as a nurse. Well, try to tear it down now. I fucking love you! You have no idea what it does to me, I wish I could just easily hate you as you hate me, but I am the better person, I am the adult.
To those people in my life, that care and call, and worry and cry with me. Thank you. Especially to you dad, you brought me out of the ashes and showed me how to rise above and beyond. Karen, I love you so much, you truly are my mother, and I hope that this doesn't upset you, but I realized that with all the fighting we do, is because I want to scream, "You are not my mother, you can't replace her." Because, I am trying so hard, to put you in that seat, but it is a hard seat to fill. Dad, please don't ever think that you never did enough, for us kids. Don't ever think that you alienated us, you just raised us so well, that when we broke away from the nest, whether by force or by choice. We flew away, and forgot where the nest was, to always tell you, that you may not be the perfect father. But you are my father. MY hero, my friend. I love you with all my heart. I am sorry for all the things I have done, to either upset anyone in my life, or hurt anyone in my life. I was just hurting.
Thank you to my friends, that never forced me to reveal who I truly was behind the mask of my comedy, of my smile, of my charm. I am glad to be the "funny fat gay man." It brings me joy to make other people smile and laugh, because for a moment...your happiness becomes my happiness, and for a brief moment in time, while we are all laughing and clutching our side, that one moment we realize.
We are only Human, and we are all the same in one way or another.
Thank you and I love you all.
((Me letting go of some, stuff...))
I don't know why I keep writing this over and over, when I know that I won't be able to post it. I keep deleting it, and the emotion behind these notes keeps getting worse and worse, and it hurts my heart more and more as I keep typing it. I am just chicken shit.
I realized something while I was skimming through my facebook friends and family, and realized that each and every person has a story to tell, within my life. Someone, did something, and now I will remember them forever. For that, I am thankful for the friends I have, and my friends will always have a special place in my heart. Some of you have seats within my heart, where you will stay forever. Like my family, my father, sister, brother, grandmother, mammaw, pappaw, and even my birth mother. Gosh, when I think of her, I remember what she used to look like, I remember her smile and the way she used to talk to me when I was growing up, I think of all the positive things, and that is who sits on the chair in my heart. My birth mother from long ago.
My father will always have a special place sitting in my heart, because it was him that rescued me from damnation, he will always be that brave soldier that pulled me from the burning building, and taught me how to walk again. I wouldn't be here if it wasn't for his support, or his mother's support. Hell, my grandma Bettie has been the best thing to happen to me in the last 3 years, and for that I am grateful to have her in my life.
These people, friends and family, have always done things for me, bent over backward and inside out...to make me feel alone, naked, in the dark. I will never forget those friends and family that took their own shirt off their back, and offered it to me, even if it was too small...because they didn't want me to suffer, even though I put myself in that situation. I am glad though, that through thick n thin, I have had people to count on.
It's just so hard, to walk this road alone. I mean, in my own religion "The Fool" walks the road alone, to make his own mistakes, and learn the tools of the trade that he has to learn, that he must travel alone, so to strengthen himself, and become the best person in society. The fool though, has many teachers along the way. His parents, and his parents parents. This fool however, misses the most important member of his teaching team. I love Karen, with all the love a son could for his mother, but...there is one little spot in my heart, a throne of sorts, that nobody else can fill, the seat doesn't sit right for anyone else, but Her. Yeah, my birth mother.
I hate that my mother moved us to Missouri, to be near her folks, because she may or may not have known previously that she was going to divorce my father. I hate that the night before we left from Dan and Hazel's...family friends at the time...that I saw her crying at their dining room table, with a phone in her hand. All I did was walk away and went back to playing, but in my heart, I knew then. That very next day, we didn't go home, and that next morning...we went out on the patio of her parents house, and she told us. I remember each of us had a different reaction, my sister was too young, and all I remember is that she wanted to go watch TV. My brother, two year difference, the middle child. He broke down and cried. Of course, She cried with him...and then she looked at me, and asked me how I felt about it. I can't remember what I told her, but that day, I died...my heart sank deep. I always, ALWAYS told all the school kids in my school out at recess, who told me that their parents were divorced, that mine would NEVER get one. I didn't cry, I didn't scream...I don't think I experienced any emotion that day. I do remember driving home, and my father's truck was empty, and the closet on his side was. I sat in that closet for hours, where his stuff used to be and I think that was the day, that I just...locked my heart up.
What is a teenager to do? Your parents, who you thought were the strongest, most amazing people. Hell, my father was Cyclopse (From X-Men) and my mother was Jean Grey (also from x-men). Never apart, perfect for each other. My heroes. Then, the worst thing in the world happened...my mother told me I was old enough, to decide where I wanted to go, where I wanted to live. Come on, your going to ask your child to chose a side? You know one of the parents was going to get hurt from the decision, it was hard. Though, I felt like my father got the rotten end of the deal, and I thought my mother would love me no matter what, and so I told her I wanted to live with my daddy. That day, the perfect world I had with Melissa Rhodes Deason Blackburn, shattered like someone threw a rock, in a glass house. She and I were never the same again. I never got to go with her to places like I had before, I never got to be the son I was, I ended up becoming a loner, and stayed in my room most of the time.
I hate that afterwords, my father joined the army again, and literally it felt like he JUST joined, and those damned planes hit our buildings. I remember, I was in high school, and in Spanish class when we watched the second tower collapse. They sent us home after that, to be with our families. By this time, my father got a small apartment, right smack in the middle of all three of our schools. Sikeston, the smallest town in the world. I was walking to his apartment, and there he was, my dad, dressed in his camo and loading up his truck. My mother picked me up from like, down the road, and she had been crying, cause her face was red and he was sniffing, and that was when I found out, he was being shipped out. To fight someone elses war, a war that non of our soldiers had to fight. So what if you call me non-patriotic, I don't care. That is my Dad, those were some other kids Fathers that DIED over there, kids that will never have their father.
I hate that he went, and left me in a world where I felt unloved, and unwanted. By this time, I had realized what it was to be a boy, I think we (men) know what I mean. Then I realized that I liked men over women, and that was scary. Reason? Cause my parents, and I mean both of them, put the fear of GOD in me. I remember when my father was giving me the "talk" and told me that if I "touched" myself I couldn't think of anything, because it was a sin. I was like, What? That of course, is another story entirely. I didn't have anyone to talk to about these feelings I had, because of the fear that was instilled in me. I found refuge in friends I made in high school, my best friend Donny, and Erica. I felt better by talking it out, then of course in my youth, I stirred away from the "Christian" belief, because like I told my Grandma Bettie. There is no place for me in "Heaven", because God doesn't allow abominations, because that is what I am, a walking abomination, a sin. I was born this way, not something I decided on a whim. Of course, if you follow the good ol' book, like my grandmother. God doesn't love me. Now please, do not fill my comments with your "Holyier than thou, god loves everyone...blaw blaw blaw" because this is how I felt. I enjoy my religion, right where I am at. Cause, there is no pre-requisite to join....so to speak.
So I finally told my mother, and I think my step father was there. Oh, that's something else. I hate she re-married, and I really hate that Brett had to shower us in gifts to try and get us to like him. I never liked him, sorry...nothing personal to the guy, but he bulldozed his way into our lives, and stole my mother from me. Not to mention, the way he treated me on the last day I was in my mother's house. Which, most of you know the story...or was part of it. I hate that when I told them that I was gay, that they looked at me like I needed to be burned at the stake. My step father, tried to convince me that I was just going through a phase, my mother didn't want to look at me straight in the eye from then on. I was a plague in their home, and that is how they treated me. First, they took my room from me, and I was forced to sleep on a cot, in the dining room, where all I had was an alarm clock, to make sure I got up to go to school. They thought I was going to rape my brother and sister. So I lived like that, OH and let's not forget that I had to GO to her parents house, next door, everyday after school...and endure torture from the elderly couple. My pappaw made me work in his garden, lifting and all that stuff, I ended up with heat rash. My mammaw wasn't a polite woman either, I remember that I joined like EVERY after school ANYTHING just to STAY at the High School, because I didn't want to go to that "Hell on Earth". I remember when I didn't come "home" when I was supposed to, and when my pappaw came looking for me, picked me up, and gave me this lecture. He actually threatened to kill me, now whoever reads this on my mother's side of the family is going to deny it up and down, but they were not there. I was. He said, and I quote, "If you hurt your mother, or brother or sister, I will kill you." My mammaw decided to pipe up, that if I "didn't start obeying, she would kick my ass..." now my mammaw is about to my hip, really short thing, and of course a smart ass teen like me laughed, and my pappaw proceeded to say, "...I will knock you down so she can do it..." I get my height from him too.
I hate that when I wanted to e-mail my father, the truth, I couldn't...my mother forced me to write to him, that everything was perfect and that I missed him. Breathing over my shoulder as I did...little did she know at the time I had informed a lot of my teachers in the High school what was going on, and one teacher was gracious enough to allow me to e-mail my father, the truth. Oh, the length of those e-mails were just...out of this world. I later found out, he thought I was lying, tell he got home, and for like the week I disappeared after they kicked me out, my grandma Bettie, his mother, was worried sick. I finally got in touch with her, and that was the first time that woman saved me from the streets.
Why am I telling this story over and over again? Why am I putting it on facebook? Maybe I am hoping that my mother will read this, and realize the torture she put her eldest son in, the fact that she still tortures me. I refuse to wake up and cry from a nightmare every morning...Where she is on her death bed, and asks for me, and I telling her no. That she can't decide while she is dying, that she wants to have a relationship with me. I hate that I know that I will never have an adult relationship with my mammaw and pappaw, and that I will hear about their death, in the paper or because my baby sister will call me crying, to tell me. You know what? I don't want to know, if they don't want to have a relationship with me, I don't want to know when they die, because that will make it that much harder. I don't want to read about my half brother that I never got to hold, that I never got to be a part of his life while he grew up. I don't want to have a relationship with Brett, at all.
You can't ignore your son forever, you can't just close your eyes, plug your ears, and wish the nightmare was over, because believe it or not, you birthed me. You made me with Paul, my father. I will NOT go anywhere, I will NOT disappear, my memory will live on. You don't want to be a part of my life anymore, stop sending me cards and gifts during CHRISTMAS, which is the only time I hear from you. Your birthday wish? On facebook? Really? Couldn't call me? Well, those calls seem like we are on a business call anyway. I can't be around you, you force hugs...because I want a hug, don't want to hug me, then don't. You make me feel worse when you "try" to have a relationship with me. You shouldn't HAVE to force it. You should just LOVE me because I am your son, "Love is unconditional." I am grown up, and you missed it all. I may not be going to school to be a nurse, and I hate that you were right, but guess what...I am going to school to get my Interior Design degree, something that I REALLY want to do, chased my dream. You tore it down before, telling me I will never make it as a nurse. Well, try to tear it down now. I fucking love you! You have no idea what it does to me, I wish I could just easily hate you as you hate me, but I am the better person, I am the adult.
To those people in my life, that care and call, and worry and cry with me. Thank you. Especially to you dad, you brought me out of the ashes and showed me how to rise above and beyond. Karen, I love you so much, you truly are my mother, and I hope that this doesn't upset you, but I realized that with all the fighting we do, is because I want to scream, "You are not my mother, you can't replace her." Because, I am trying so hard, to put you in that seat, but it is a hard seat to fill. Dad, please don't ever think that you never did enough, for us kids. Don't ever think that you alienated us, you just raised us so well, that when we broke away from the nest, whether by force or by choice. We flew away, and forgot where the nest was, to always tell you, that you may not be the perfect father. But you are my father. MY hero, my friend. I love you with all my heart. I am sorry for all the things I have done, to either upset anyone in my life, or hurt anyone in my life. I was just hurting.
Thank you to my friends, that never forced me to reveal who I truly was behind the mask of my comedy, of my smile, of my charm. I am glad to be the "funny fat gay man." It brings me joy to make other people smile and laugh, because for a moment...your happiness becomes my happiness, and for a brief moment in time, while we are all laughing and clutching our side, that one moment we realize.
We are only Human, and we are all the same in one way or another.
Thank you and I love you all.
((Me letting go of some, stuff...))
