Maybe conflicted is not quite the word. I think there was anger, despair, disbelief, sadness, all negative emotions. For the last two years, I have struggled with my life. What direction I should go, is it Gods way? What do I do with my art? What, what, what? I am screaming and trying to maintain, what? I really don't know. I think I really am giving up. Not in the sense that I want to harm myself, just that I no longer want to question, to do, or not to do.
What prompted this? Since moving here, I have been unable to get my clay fired. I got involved with a place in Mancos which just showed me once again the selfishness of this world. A non profit, who continually took advantage of the volunteers. I have tried to ship my stuff to a friend, but it takes postage, postage that I do not have. Yes, I am feeling sorry for myself. I am feeling lost, very unsure of myself. Very, I really don't know what. And then a very nice lady offered to take my things to a place that's to far for me to drive on a regular basis, and not pay for, but her circumstances have changed, so that's off the table. I did have a tiny kiln that would fire stuff that had been fired once, but I guess it got to hot and now no longer works. That's what has been the final straw. And I am screaming again. It seems like I can't catch a break. There are more questions than answers. I don't like this feeling. And I don't know how to change it. Any craftsman need tools, the correct tools. a kiln is needed for me to do mine. Maybe I am not suppose to do my art any more. That's the message I am getting. Am I fighting the inevitable? Am I suppose to just give in, how long do I fight, where is the value in all of this? Am I creating the wrong kind of art? I am complimented on it all the time, but no one buys. Maybe that's the answer. When I am working in clay, I am happy. Maybe I am not meant to be happy, its punishment for trying to die.
And lets not forget about have some disposable income. Just got notice that I would get a raise on my SSDI, are you ready.....I go from 737.00 to 751.00. Now don't me wrong, I appreciate it. Its better than nothing.
I do want to just hide. I don't want to work on my art. I don't want to do anything that is for my self. I feel why, whats the bother. I don't have value.
I just don't know what to do. Or if I knew what to do, would I do it?
I just want a life, some kind of positive life. One that is productive, one that is more than surviving. I put in the work. So, whats wrong?
Money, money, will that really solve anything? This all stems back to the suicide attempt. Why did I live? To live like this?
Yes I am in a mood today. but I guess this to shall pass. Or not. I do not have much hope in the future.
bjw
Wednesday, December 6, 2017
Friday, September 29, 2017
I'm an artist and a conservative
I think that is an oxymoron statement. Through out the years, dealing with the ceramic industry, was not so evident. But now in the "real" art world. I am getting an education in things, that I almost can't fathom.
Art was and is art to me. It was never political for me. Didn't even know it had politics. But I'm learning it does. And then I ask myself, do I need to be political to be an artist. NO. I have always been the rebel when it came to my art.
When my art teacher in HS told me I would never be an artist. I was hurt, stunned, angry and then thought, well, she must know. Her reasoning was that I did not paint like her. I wanted to do my own thing. I could do her technique, but I felt like it was copying, and that was not for me. For several years, I did not paint. I did learn to silversmith, I did learn to crochet, quilt, sew. But it wasn't really what I wanted to do. But I kept hearing that voice, telling me, you won't. My sister Carol was an awesome artist, and it was easier to hide than to admit I hadn't any talent. What a waste of those first years. But it was then I learned, it was MY art. And that my individuality was what made my art, mine. I painted and created what I wanted. If it sold it sold, and if not, it was something I was proud to look at. And that I didn't need to make a statement. If my art spoke to you, fine. If not, it was fine.
I always wanted to work in clay. Had no idea how to do it. Plus, I wanted to learn how to make dolls. I went to the library to find books. Found a lady in our small town who had a ceramic shop. And at that shop there were magazines about the craft.
Over the next several years, I bought a small doll mold from Duncan Molds, and then a oven fired slip to pour that doll. In fact I still have that doll. A kewpie doll that was painted with acrylic paints. All self taught.
Can you imagine what I would have done with the opportunity of the internet? I overwhelm myself just thinking about it. I thirst for the knowledge. And thus I learned enough to finally have a successful ceramic art design business. All self taught. I learned how to pour the slip, I learned about the different paints to be used on ceramics. I learned about the kiln, and even how to repair. I learned how to make the slip, and did so in a 55 gal drum. A lot of these learning skills, were learned the hard way. I never indebted my business. So always working on a very slim profit margin, that went right back into the business. I would have liked to earn more money, but I was happy creating my art.
So what brings up this latest rant?
The last few years, I have noticed this atmosphere of artists leaning to the far left. So far over, that they almost fell over. And to me, was totally taking away from the passion. Now I am not saying that art cannot or should not have a political subject matter. We each have our own idea of art. I am just saying don't throw away someone of something that you don't think has your political ideas. I have found that most if not all my artist friends fall in the category of being a liberal. I say this is not a bad thing. It seems to be the rule. Its ok.
Since moving to Cortez, I have really been isolated from the art world. I miss my work in the mental health art field. But I know that I am not well enough to do as I once did. But I still have tried to find some options to be involved.
While doing this, I was a volunteer at a clay studio for a while. Very liberal. We did part ways, due to differences in how I felt volunteers ought to be treated. And that had nothing to do with a liberal minded person. We all have different ways of running a business. I looked at it as part of a new educational opportunity.
Then I met this wonderful artist, who as well is very liberal, and wants to talk about the political climate of today. I know that politics, problems in the world , social injustices are the big part of her art. I love it. I love the stories behind her work, but I wonder will it effect our relationship? I am currently working on a project that was created so the artist could sell their work on a T shirt or fabric bad, they would have no cash out lay, I would do all the work for a small percentage of the sales. Its a win win for all of us. But I can't help thinking would or does it make a difference what my political views are? I don't talk about my religious beliefs. So why can't it be the same for my political views? Now I won't back down on either of these subjects, but I will not push those views on anyone. Am I naive in all of this?
The conclusion I have come to is this......I don't have a problem working with anyone as long as they don't shove their belief system down my throat.
We live in a very strange world today. One that I am not happy with. It makes me sad. But I want art to live on, to make people feel. To have choices without pressure,
Do you think I am expecting to much?
To all you artists out there. Do your thing, be happy.
bjw
Artists such as this one. :)
Art was and is art to me. It was never political for me. Didn't even know it had politics. But I'm learning it does. And then I ask myself, do I need to be political to be an artist. NO. I have always been the rebel when it came to my art.
When my art teacher in HS told me I would never be an artist. I was hurt, stunned, angry and then thought, well, she must know. Her reasoning was that I did not paint like her. I wanted to do my own thing. I could do her technique, but I felt like it was copying, and that was not for me. For several years, I did not paint. I did learn to silversmith, I did learn to crochet, quilt, sew. But it wasn't really what I wanted to do. But I kept hearing that voice, telling me, you won't. My sister Carol was an awesome artist, and it was easier to hide than to admit I hadn't any talent. What a waste of those first years. But it was then I learned, it was MY art. And that my individuality was what made my art, mine. I painted and created what I wanted. If it sold it sold, and if not, it was something I was proud to look at. And that I didn't need to make a statement. If my art spoke to you, fine. If not, it was fine.
I always wanted to work in clay. Had no idea how to do it. Plus, I wanted to learn how to make dolls. I went to the library to find books. Found a lady in our small town who had a ceramic shop. And at that shop there were magazines about the craft.
Over the next several years, I bought a small doll mold from Duncan Molds, and then a oven fired slip to pour that doll. In fact I still have that doll. A kewpie doll that was painted with acrylic paints. All self taught.
Can you imagine what I would have done with the opportunity of the internet? I overwhelm myself just thinking about it. I thirst for the knowledge. And thus I learned enough to finally have a successful ceramic art design business. All self taught. I learned how to pour the slip, I learned about the different paints to be used on ceramics. I learned about the kiln, and even how to repair. I learned how to make the slip, and did so in a 55 gal drum. A lot of these learning skills, were learned the hard way. I never indebted my business. So always working on a very slim profit margin, that went right back into the business. I would have liked to earn more money, but I was happy creating my art.
So what brings up this latest rant?
The last few years, I have noticed this atmosphere of artists leaning to the far left. So far over, that they almost fell over. And to me, was totally taking away from the passion. Now I am not saying that art cannot or should not have a political subject matter. We each have our own idea of art. I am just saying don't throw away someone of something that you don't think has your political ideas. I have found that most if not all my artist friends fall in the category of being a liberal. I say this is not a bad thing. It seems to be the rule. Its ok.
Since moving to Cortez, I have really been isolated from the art world. I miss my work in the mental health art field. But I know that I am not well enough to do as I once did. But I still have tried to find some options to be involved.
While doing this, I was a volunteer at a clay studio for a while. Very liberal. We did part ways, due to differences in how I felt volunteers ought to be treated. And that had nothing to do with a liberal minded person. We all have different ways of running a business. I looked at it as part of a new educational opportunity.
Then I met this wonderful artist, who as well is very liberal, and wants to talk about the political climate of today. I know that politics, problems in the world , social injustices are the big part of her art. I love it. I love the stories behind her work, but I wonder will it effect our relationship? I am currently working on a project that was created so the artist could sell their work on a T shirt or fabric bad, they would have no cash out lay, I would do all the work for a small percentage of the sales. Its a win win for all of us. But I can't help thinking would or does it make a difference what my political views are? I don't talk about my religious beliefs. So why can't it be the same for my political views? Now I won't back down on either of these subjects, but I will not push those views on anyone. Am I naive in all of this?
The conclusion I have come to is this......I don't have a problem working with anyone as long as they don't shove their belief system down my throat.
We live in a very strange world today. One that I am not happy with. It makes me sad. But I want art to live on, to make people feel. To have choices without pressure,
Do you think I am expecting to much?
To all you artists out there. Do your thing, be happy.
bjw
Monday, September 25, 2017
Trixie, the Coyote Dog, RIP
I go thru spurts. When things are moving along and I am coping well, I tend not to write. sigh.....A week ago Sunday, my little Coyote Dog, Trixie left me to go to the big dog park in the sky. She had been with me about 14 years. I haven't really talked about it much. Mostly cause if I don't, then I won't think about her, and cry.
My family was great in coming to pick her up and taking her to Vet. And I am trying to mourn like an adult. Hey who makes these rules up anyway?
Losing my 4 legged friend is very sad for me. You see she came into my life just a couple of months from escaping domestic violence. I was very sad then, and nothing could comfort me. While road tripping with son and family, we got stuck in a dry creek and had to walk for help. Thats when I found her, tied to a fence awaiting her death, cause she was a chicken killer, and you can't have a dog, on a ranch or farm killing chickens. Needless to say, she came home with me a couple of days later.
She has adventured with me all over the place. She has played on the beaches of Corpus Christie, at the Feast of Tabernacles. She has 4 wheeled with us all over the Tucson desert. Gone camping with us. Made my life worth living. I miss her so much. There wasn't an opportunity for her to get into a car or truck that she didn't take.
She licked my tears. jumped in my lamp. she loved me, as no human ever has, well except for my mom.
The depression is sneaking in. I fight it every second. I cry when I think of her. Red Dog has been looking for her. I think thats one reason, today is one of those days. She goes out side and then back in crying and looking at me, Then goes out again. This is repeated several times a day.
And so today, as part of my healing process, I write. I remember the totally awesome times we had with this wonderful friend. And she is missed. My soul has a huge empty place in in, that cannot be filled.
2004-2017
My family was great in coming to pick her up and taking her to Vet. And I am trying to mourn like an adult. Hey who makes these rules up anyway?
Losing my 4 legged friend is very sad for me. You see she came into my life just a couple of months from escaping domestic violence. I was very sad then, and nothing could comfort me. While road tripping with son and family, we got stuck in a dry creek and had to walk for help. Thats when I found her, tied to a fence awaiting her death, cause she was a chicken killer, and you can't have a dog, on a ranch or farm killing chickens. Needless to say, she came home with me a couple of days later.
She has adventured with me all over the place. She has played on the beaches of Corpus Christie, at the Feast of Tabernacles. She has 4 wheeled with us all over the Tucson desert. Gone camping with us. Made my life worth living. I miss her so much. There wasn't an opportunity for her to get into a car or truck that she didn't take.
She licked my tears. jumped in my lamp. she loved me, as no human ever has, well except for my mom.
The depression is sneaking in. I fight it every second. I cry when I think of her. Red Dog has been looking for her. I think thats one reason, today is one of those days. She goes out side and then back in crying and looking at me, Then goes out again. This is repeated several times a day.
And so today, as part of my healing process, I write. I remember the totally awesome times we had with this wonderful friend. And she is missed. My soul has a huge empty place in in, that cannot be filled.
Sunday, July 16, 2017
I'm the mean mom
I know, been weeks since I posted. Had foot surgery and its kinda been cramping my style. I am to have no weight on that foot, at all. I have this cool little push scooter that I get around with. Very thankful for that. I am terribly out of shape, gotta do something about it. I hope to get out of cast this week.
I have to much "think" time on my hands. And at times not good for someone who deals with depression and PTSD. And those of who read my blog, and deals with depression, know how hard it can be.
So, unto this weeks blog. I have been estranged from my youngest daughter for years. I have spoken of this before. My struggles, etc. The article at the end of this post, is what brought this up. Well continued it, anyway.
So, I call my 93 year old mother twice a day, every day to make sure she is ok and to tell her I love her. Last Friday night, when I called, she told me she had company, and I told her I would let her go so she could visit. Did not know who it was. Then she told me, and asked if I wanted to talk to my daughter. Talk about a blow to the gut. Thing is, I really didn't feel anything. I still don't. I think I should. Shouldn't I. So, she said she wanted to speak to me, I did not refuse. Its been 15 years since I heard her voice. Never seen the newest grandkids. I'm still not sure about how I feel. She talked, I listened. About her life, really nothing much. I talked, about my life, really nothing much. It was like speaking to a stranger. I didn't cry this time. I don't like that. I ask myself, is it because I really haven't forgiven her? Or am I just trying to make myself feel bad? You see, way toooooo much time on my hands. It frightens me that I don't care if she is in my life. That makes me sad, and want to cry. Whats so wrong with me? I know there must be an answer to this. I have to have an answer.
And so back to the mean mom, business, thats one of the things she tells people about me. I was a mean mom. And their day was the cool one. He even signed her papers to marry before she was of age. That makes me cry. She did not stay with this guy.
I know I didn't want my children to be hurt, to learn lessons the hard way. I really wasn't realistic. I always wanted to be the fixer, for my kids not to have pain like I did. I think all I did was give them a different pain.
Sorry, doesnt take away, the harsh things I did to my children. And I know that they will never understand. Mostly because I don't understand much of it. Thru therapy, I have learned that my anger at my life and the sexual abuse as a small child played a huge role. I am angry that it took me all my life to realize that and then take action. My children suffered muchly at my hands and anger.
And so, I don't know what to do.
bjw
http://www.scarymommy.com/im-mean-mom-not-cool-mom/?utm_medium=partner&utm_source=30days
I have to much "think" time on my hands. And at times not good for someone who deals with depression and PTSD. And those of who read my blog, and deals with depression, know how hard it can be.
So, unto this weeks blog. I have been estranged from my youngest daughter for years. I have spoken of this before. My struggles, etc. The article at the end of this post, is what brought this up. Well continued it, anyway.
So, I call my 93 year old mother twice a day, every day to make sure she is ok and to tell her I love her. Last Friday night, when I called, she told me she had company, and I told her I would let her go so she could visit. Did not know who it was. Then she told me, and asked if I wanted to talk to my daughter. Talk about a blow to the gut. Thing is, I really didn't feel anything. I still don't. I think I should. Shouldn't I. So, she said she wanted to speak to me, I did not refuse. Its been 15 years since I heard her voice. Never seen the newest grandkids. I'm still not sure about how I feel. She talked, I listened. About her life, really nothing much. I talked, about my life, really nothing much. It was like speaking to a stranger. I didn't cry this time. I don't like that. I ask myself, is it because I really haven't forgiven her? Or am I just trying to make myself feel bad? You see, way toooooo much time on my hands. It frightens me that I don't care if she is in my life. That makes me sad, and want to cry. Whats so wrong with me? I know there must be an answer to this. I have to have an answer.
And so back to the mean mom, business, thats one of the things she tells people about me. I was a mean mom. And their day was the cool one. He even signed her papers to marry before she was of age. That makes me cry. She did not stay with this guy.
I know I didn't want my children to be hurt, to learn lessons the hard way. I really wasn't realistic. I always wanted to be the fixer, for my kids not to have pain like I did. I think all I did was give them a different pain.
Sorry, doesnt take away, the harsh things I did to my children. And I know that they will never understand. Mostly because I don't understand much of it. Thru therapy, I have learned that my anger at my life and the sexual abuse as a small child played a huge role. I am angry that it took me all my life to realize that and then take action. My children suffered muchly at my hands and anger.
And so, I don't know what to do.
bjw
http://www.scarymommy.com/im-mean-mom-not-cool-mom/?utm_medium=partner&utm_source=30days
Sunday, May 14, 2017
A Mothers Day Guilt trip
This is something else on my mind. I know I came from a different generation. One of many screwed up values, skills, etc. A church that was very strict and harsh. It should not be an excuse. As I go about trying to heal. Another one of the main things I battle is guilt.
I know I can't undo. There are some things, that you want to make amends for, but the harm is to big, to much.
I have learned to late, that you cannot and should not treat your small children like an adult. They must be allowed to be children. This needs to be a lesson to us all.
I attend a recovery group called Celebrate Recovery, they use a 12 step program from AA with a spiritual addition. Because I was never addicted to drugs or alcohol, some of the steps don't make a lot of sense to me. But its a great program. And this week, we discussed amends.
And yesterday we had a sermon on "words". Great sermon. A comforting sermon, encouraging and yet a reminder, that we cannot take our words back. We shape our children, its our responsibility. Our duty to do the best we can with what we have. Stuff/things, our children don't need as much as they need us.
Now, what can I do about all this? I have children I am estranged from, grandchildren. The therapist keeps telling me, that I have to let it go. I know I need to, but I want my kids to be healed from my screw ups.Hurt is hurt. Damage is damage. Just like domestic violence, the scars are there. Hurts heal, but there are always the scars. Always the scars, I know I carry mine, I don't want to, thats part PTSD.
Our world is screwed up so bad. And the one thing I am most thankful for, is that I do have a spiritual being in my life, I call him God. Others have other things. This is not meant to push God off on you. But to share one part of my healing.
Today is Mothers Day. I know that I can count on my son Mike to call me first thing in the morning. Just like clockwork.
I call my mom, just like clockwork, I am so blessed to still have her in my life.
Don't let guilt overcome your life, if you can make amends, at least try. Do what you can, and then it becomes their choice, their decision to make and you can finally let go of the guilt, and work on making other things better in your life.
May you have a blessed day and peace.
I found the following article on FB this morning. I hope it helps, opens eyes.
bjw
http://foreverymom.com/family-parenting/15-ways-break-childs-heart-lori-wildenberg/
I know I can't undo. There are some things, that you want to make amends for, but the harm is to big, to much.
I have learned to late, that you cannot and should not treat your small children like an adult. They must be allowed to be children. This needs to be a lesson to us all.
I attend a recovery group called Celebrate Recovery, they use a 12 step program from AA with a spiritual addition. Because I was never addicted to drugs or alcohol, some of the steps don't make a lot of sense to me. But its a great program. And this week, we discussed amends.
And yesterday we had a sermon on "words". Great sermon. A comforting sermon, encouraging and yet a reminder, that we cannot take our words back. We shape our children, its our responsibility. Our duty to do the best we can with what we have. Stuff/things, our children don't need as much as they need us.
Now, what can I do about all this? I have children I am estranged from, grandchildren. The therapist keeps telling me, that I have to let it go. I know I need to, but I want my kids to be healed from my screw ups.Hurt is hurt. Damage is damage. Just like domestic violence, the scars are there. Hurts heal, but there are always the scars. Always the scars, I know I carry mine, I don't want to, thats part PTSD.
Our world is screwed up so bad. And the one thing I am most thankful for, is that I do have a spiritual being in my life, I call him God. Others have other things. This is not meant to push God off on you. But to share one part of my healing.
Today is Mothers Day. I know that I can count on my son Mike to call me first thing in the morning. Just like clockwork.
I call my mom, just like clockwork, I am so blessed to still have her in my life.
Don't let guilt overcome your life, if you can make amends, at least try. Do what you can, and then it becomes their choice, their decision to make and you can finally let go of the guilt, and work on making other things better in your life.
May you have a blessed day and peace.
I found the following article on FB this morning. I hope it helps, opens eyes.
bjw
http://foreverymom.com/family-parenting/15-ways-break-childs-heart-lori-wildenberg/
Friday, May 5, 2017
Examples and regrets
I found this on Face Book this morning, its something that I am seen before. But I want to use it to show an example of what I would have done in this instance. And it was not this way. So please don't repeat my mistakes.
Instead of doing what this mom did, I would have yelled at her for being selfish, I would probably have belittled her, and I know that I would have turned my back on her. Never giving her a chance to finish. Thats what kind of mom I was.
This is part of my healing to remind me, that I cannot go back and change it. But I can acknowledge, take ownership and hopefully help someone else to change before its to late.
Please, please. don't repeat my mistakes. Love your children.
bjw
Instead of doing what this mom did, I would have yelled at her for being selfish, I would probably have belittled her, and I know that I would have turned my back on her. Never giving her a chance to finish. Thats what kind of mom I was.
This is part of my healing to remind me, that I cannot go back and change it. But I can acknowledge, take ownership and hopefully help someone else to change before its to late.
bjw
Thursday, May 4, 2017
Dealing with Trauma, one at a time
Today was therapist day. We had already decided what I wanted to work on. I recently reconnected with one of my Granddaughters, a wonderful. loving thing. But it also brought up a lot of hurtful memories regarding her mom, my youngest daughter.
In fact, I have been seeing my therapist for almost 2 years, and I had never mentioned this particular trauma. Thats how deep I had hid it.
When we started the journey today, I believed it to be just one incident. It was a very hard thing to talk about. I believed it to be all wrapped up in one huge trauma, where my daughter had purposely caused me to lose my home. I was so angry, so much so that I could have harmed her. It scared me to have those feelings.. We talked about what I really felt at the time, besides the anger, there was a feeling of betrayal, of that she was doing this to get back at me for all the things that she felt I had done to her.
And now comes the guilt of not being a good parent. And then we went way back into her childhood. She was a difficult child. Most of it I feel was on me, She was born after we had buried a SIDS baby. She was a very heavy sleeper. So I was constantly waking her up, to make sure she was still alive. There came a time that she ran away, age 6 or so, I was so afraid for her, I didn't understand her anger, or what ever the attitude was. She finally came home, safe. Thank God.
Around the same time, some teacher at school told her that she could call 911 if I spanked her as discipline. We lived in terror. Back in those days, CPS got involved, they never left your life. This went on for about a month, The entire family walked on eggshells, till finally I had, had enough and gave her the phone to call. During all this time we had another child, who was very ill. And did require a lot of attention. Again, him being sick, I was always afraid he would die.
We moved 5 times in 5 years. I know hard on us all. We finally wound up in Tucson, AZ.
And remember, I was a member of a church that had taught us, not to use therapists or psychiatrists. In fact, if we had any kind of mental illness, it must be of the devil, I actually believe now, that at the time it was a cult. I still have my biblical beliefs that started with that church. And again, how my children were affected by all of this.
My 2 younger children were not disciplined as the 2 older ones. I was gentler, more patient parent. The 2 older ones, will tell you that. I am so ashamed of how I treated my children. The guilt overwhelms me. But one thing at a time.
I remember my daughter being very self sufficient, I wanted my girls especially to be independent to be able to take care of themselves.
A few years after moving, we suffered a traumatic loss of our home and business to a fire. We were displaced for about 6 weeks, a family that we knew well, from church, who had a small child, started having us over for fellowship. My daughter just loved being with their little one, and they were a young couple. Financially stable. I looked at it as an opportunity for my daughter. She was around 11 when this happened. They would take her on trips. She joined the Civil Air Patrol. Wow, She would fly the F16 simulator better than the Air Force Pilots . She had a AZ Senator ready to write her recommendation to the Air Force Academy in Colorado. She was going places, good places. So proud of her.
Then in the fall she turned 16, we were visited late one night by a posse of sheriff deputies at our home. And they were looking for my daughter, and asking us if we knew this young couple.
The couple, him and her had been molesting my daughter, making videos, grooming her since age 11. Our local church turned against us, we had no support except that they blamed my daughter for all of it. During the trial, we were ostracized by church members, the minister. None of us had any professional help. Nothing spiritual. How much I look back with regret of not getting the help. My daughter would never talk to me about it. The police were forthcoming, doing their best to alleviate our guilt, explaining to us about child molestation. So many memories to deal with today. A lot of tears and deep breaths.
Then when she 17 she wanted to get married. I felt she was to young. Her dad signed for her. I responded by leaving town. Very angry.
I also remember after she married, she brought up supper of barbecue thighs, Instead of being thankful, I yelled at her that she knew I didn't like thighs.
I was always so angry, and I would take it out on any one. Very very sad for my children.
So now, its not about me, per say.........I know that I cannot go back and fix it, or even explain how or why. I am just now figuring it out.
I am working on the guilt angle, mine, We talked about one thing that I can do , and that is continue my prayers that God will heal them of my mistakes. For me to continue to not allow the anger to creep back in.
I can control my anger now, well most of the time, except when it comes to idiots. Whew......I hope that my posts will help someone else not make these same mistakes.I want to quit beating myself up for these mistakes. So, its one at a time, and to remind me, baby steps.
One of the reasons that I posted the above reminder.
May each of you be blessed, and share love. Love your children.
bjw
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