The Pain Burrows

I ran my hand over his cheek and down his neck only to find a chest of skin and bones. The clothing hid the tell tale signs of imminent death along with the odor that death carry’s with it.

The sadness washed over my face and down my body and as he laid there with his eyes closed my body started slowly with the tears. Making their way down my cheeks my tears turned into uncontrollable crying.

My body was racked with the pain of loss which would come within hours. He no longer felt pain as I had given him the morphine required to steal away his physical pain.

He had talked to me earlier but few words were spoken. The pain in his eyes said volumes as we shared our last physical moments together. He and I had a life together, children together, built a house together and shared good as well as bad times.

The memories came and went at their own free will and I was at a loss to stop the invasion. Yes, the memories were invading me when I least expected it or wanted it.

I hated the memories as they brought not just the death of my husband but the death of my grandmother as well. Both were in great pain shortly before they passed and I was there to help them cross over.

Until you walk in the shoes of someone that has been a caretaker for someone taken over by cancer you have no idea how much the days tear at our hearts.

You have no idea how hard it is to watch a loved one slip away, slowly and methodically. You can never wash away our pain and emptiness and you can never even imagine how the pain burrows into our hearts.

The Reminder

I learned long ago that most people will do things for you with either an expectation of wanting something in return or need validation. I have always told those that have helped me “thank you”.

I have also found that when someone helps you more likely than not they need to feel important in your life. They need to hear you say thank you over and over to make them feel appreciated.

Those that are secure within themselves only need to hear “thank you” once as they “get it”, they do not need a constant reminder. They dont need to be stroked over and over and for one, I find that quite annoying.

After many years, I thought I found someone who really wanted to be my friend. How wrong I was as this man thought we were destine to be together.

What he failed to realize is A. He is married, B. He lives 2 hours away, C. The attraction is purely bdsm and nothing more. He wants a vanilla relationship that has aspects of the bdsm world.

He has reminded me numerous times of the things he has done or given me. He has tried to “guilt trip” me into making a place for him in my life. He wants more than to be a sub but that my dear will never happen.

When you do something for someone it should come from the heart, without strings attached. You should never expect something in return when  you do for another.

I refuse to have any part in breaking up a marriage and I will never be with anyone that divorces to be with me. I can have bdsm relationships that are non sexual and no I never will get sexually involved.

I will not “fondle” anyone when we are in the same bed. Fondling is a form of foreplay which is a preclude to sex. I will never have sex with anyone that is my sub or slave.

As far as helping me, I don’t really care if someone does or doesnt. They will be in my life if I chose and not for what they do or give me. If you have to be reminded constantly about how I feel about you, well forget it I refuse to stroke you over and over.

To Take

From what my aunt told me I was a very happy little girl. I smiled, giggled and laughed quite a  bit at lifes little pleasures. I slept like a baby, literally as I was one.

Then the divorce of my parents happened and my sister, brother as well as myself became wards of my grandparents. Not many people have any idea how it affects a child being separated from their parents. To take the love away from a child really changes how they approach life.

My dad had no desire to be a father and my mother wanted what anyone twenty one years old wants. She wanted to be single, free, playful and loved.

Unfortunately, for her mental illness took hold of her brain. She left us with our grandparents for several years and her promised visits were nothing but lies.

She did come to visit us but the visits were far and few in between. My grandparents loved us but living on a farm had happy as well as sad times.

My uncle molested me when I was three and my sister was five when he infiltrated our bodies.  He got off on touching us in are private areas and years later he did the same to his granddaughter.

I have put that terrible part of my life to rest many years ago but the physical abuse as well as mental abuse was yet to come. When my mother to possession of us once again then the beatings and hateful words began.

I was made to feel that I owed my mother my life and I guess I did. Without her I wouldn’t be here today but I should not feel that I should pay for each and every breath that I take.

I can remember wearing long pants and shirts to hide bruises and the fear of telling. I was more fearful of not knowing what would happen to me if I told. Could life get any worse being taken from my mother?

I kept the beatings a secret as well as the hateful words but year after year I prayed for the day I was old enough to leave.  Finally, I became of age and got a job in the steel mill.

The happiest day of my life was moving into my own apartment and getting away from my mother. I will admit I went to counseling on and off for over thirty years, and yes it has helped.

I can remember how many times I wish I were dead but never had the nerve to take my own life. The dysfunctional family unit made me crave for stability and love.

I think my upbringing is what makes me recent people who do things for me and through it in my face. When you remind me over and over what you have done for me it feels like a rake going over an old wound.

I get angry when the very person that has helped is now haunting me. The reminders show me a very weak person that needs constant reassurance. I am not the type of woman to feed insecurities and maybe its because I have lived through such adversity.

If you cannot put on your big boy pants then dont expect me to respect you as I won’t. If you think I will feed your insecurities, no I will not. If you are not happy in your life, your work or your marriage, do not expect me to hold your hand and make you feel better.

Maybe I come off as a cold individual because there was never anyone there to hold my hand. There was never anyone there to protect me and save me when I needed saving.

I learned the hard way the importance of the relationship between parent and child. Those that put their children in boarding schools have no idea the damage they are doing to their relationships with their children.

I am finding more and more Libra’s put their children in boarding schools  because they do not want to be a 24 hour parent. They want their freedom to do what they want without the burden of children. 

This is really sad as the child becomes bitter and builds resentment towards their parents. The child finds love in personal relationships and lacks it from their own parents.

The bottom line is our childhoods shape us in many ways. We can either repeat how we were raised or do the opposite. I for one have tried to not repeat the same mistakes my parents made.