Happy Heavenly Birthday, Carleigh

Thinking about you today.

It shouldn't matter

This morning when I was volunteering, the director asked me if he could ask a personal question.  He said a lot of the other volunteers have been asking him what's wrong with me physically.  He said he felt like they thought he didn't care because he would just say he didn't know.  So I tried explaining that I was born like this and tried to detail what exactly was "wrong" on my body, and then I stopped and kind of laughed, saying, "Just tell them I got hit by a train."  Then on the way home I got really upset and crying in my car about this.

For starters, they are gossiping about me behind my back!  "A lot" of the other volunteers have been asking?!?  Another thing, they're not in elementary school where you whisper and stare at someone who looks different than you -- these people are adults and should know better!  Another thing, the biggest thing, these people are supposedly Christians working for a Christian nonprofit company.  It shouldn't matter WHAT I look like or HOW I walk!  It shouldn't matter!  Asking what's "wrong" with me makes about as much sense as asking Oprah why she's black.  God made me like this.

I've been reading this book by Brennan Manning called Abba's Child.  There was a real eye-opening line in there about prejudice.  "Prejudice is a defense mechanism against loving."  Wow, think about that.  When you shrink back from someone because they're tall, loud, Chinese, heavy, smart, deformed, blonde, etc., you're giving yourself an excuse not to love them.

Six Word Saturday (3/6/10)

I feel so much rage inside

Sorry.

I'm still reflecting on my life (my whole life, not just the part where Claudia comes in) and I'm just so angry.  I can see how people over and over wanted me to do things and I did them.  Was I NOT born with a mouth?  Right now my counselor is having me read a book called "Abba's Child" by Brennan Manning and he talks about this imposter inside yourself, where you basically deny your true self in order to keep the peace (being a COWARD, his word) and/or to maintain acceptance by others.  

What has it gotten me?  NADA.  What has it gotten others?  EVERYTHING.

My sister hated me from the time I was 12 till I was 20.  My parents let MY SISTER have a say about Claudia.  What does she say?  "Debbie can't take care of herself, let alone a baby."  When I was 20, miraculously after my sister graduated from travel agent school and needed a place to stay, all of a sudden I wasn't so disgusting to her and she lived with me.  Oh, and she needed a car.  Our parents didn't want her to ruin their credit if they co-signed, so guess who they got to co-sign my sister's brand new 1987 Renault Alliance?  I never even got to drive it because everyone thought I was too mentally and physically challenged to drive.

My first husband - same theme, different story.

My second husband - same theme, different story.

My third husband - yep, same theme, different story, and continuing.

I don't want them all to hate me or be mad at me so I'm chicken and give in.

Two things make me write about this today.  First, my kids threw a holy fit Thursday night to get me to take them to Literacy Night.  I've been telling them all week that I didn't want to go.  My husband couldn't take them because he was teaching.  I don't like being out in public because I look like a monster and people stare.  We had to park quite a ways away from the school since the parking lot was full, and my son was screaming about not making it in time to get a hot dog the whole time I'm parking.  I could see there was a line of people waiting for hot dogs so I don't know why he was so upset.

Secondly, my sister sent me a little Easter package yesterday of marshmallow peeps, bunnies, malted milk eggs and two fanny packs she got from a convention.  I was surprised, happy, shared the candy with my kids and little boy I babysit for, liked the lavender pack, but inside I want to just rip something to shreds.  Why does she get to treat me so badly and I hate her and then she is nice to me and I don't know how to feel.  Well, of course she likes me .. I've done everything she's ever wanted.

I feel like I'm just alive for other people - my husband, my kids, my parents.  My self, my true self, doesn't really exist.  I would leave but I never make more than $100 a week and that's not enough to live on.  Ironically, I made a ton of money when I was married the first two times and it was pretty easy to finally say "enough" but now I'm stuck here.