Leave Out All The Rest

"I dreamed I was missing, you were so scared but no one would listen, cause no one else cared. After my dreaming I woke with this fear, what am I leaving when I'm done here. So if you're asking me I want you to know....When my time comes forget the wrong that I've done, help me leave behind some reasons to be missed and don't resent me when you're feeling empty..keep me in your memory leave out all the rest...LEAVE OUT ALL THE REST" Linkin Park

I grew up hearing that when a person dies we are not suppose to talk ill of them again and that we are suppose to only remember the good. With some it is easy enough to do, but sometimes hurts are too great to just forget. When my mom died, for a while I only remembered how wonderful she was and how much she loved us all. But that faded a few years ago when I remembered all the bad that outweighs the good. I have decided that I don't want to leave behind unresolved hurts when I go. I don't want those who love me to go through what I do. It is when people die and leave behind unfinished business that their loved one are unable to let go. I know that I have caused alot of wreckage during my many many years of using not only drugs and alcohol but people too. I thought that no one else's feelings mattered to me, I prided myself in not caring...but I do care and I always have. I am about to start making amends...I made my list of people I owe amends to in the last step and I have been procrastinating on getting to making the amends. I think I am ready to pick the step back up, I have to clean up the hurts I have caused in the past and then not cause hurts in the future. If I forget someone, I really hope that they can Leave Out All The Rest!

I still miss you-I'm still grieving

Seven years ago around this time was the last time you were by my side, though we both know you were already gone I just didn't know it at the time. You came to Norfolk for the weekend and we spent the whole time at my dad's high. It was one of the best and then worst memories I have of you. While you were with me it was like you were never gone. I believed you when you said that you would come there to stay, that is until you left. The entire weekend I was lying to myself, but the moment you left I knew that you were gone. As I watched your truck drive away I had that knowing feeling deep inside my heart, head, and the most truth telling-my stomach. When I went inside I tried to hide in the nearest room, but of course Candi followed. She tried to assure me that you would return, but I knew better and I cried. Perhaps that's why, or perhaps it was the drugs, that I was able to let go of our relationship and try to move on. I figured that you would move on too, that you would be okay and perhaps one day we would run into each other when I went to GI to visit. This was seven years ago sometime around right now. I wish I could remember exactly, but I was just as heavily using in Norfolk as we were in GI so all of those days until the day you were killed are kind of hazy. It must have been divine influence that I just happened to be home on November 22nd when PoppaWop called Candi's phone, because I was high and usually I was never there when I was high. At first I didn't understand what he was telling me, he had to repeat parts of it several times. My mind just couldn't put it together that he was actually talking about you. The Marty I knew wouldn't have been there, but it is true that the last time I saw you, you were gone. Once I put everything he was saying together I was too upset to hold on to the phone and stand. I am not sure but I think that Candi got on the phone to find out what was wrong. I couldn't and didn't want to believe it, I even called Tracy and Ramey to try and get a different truth. Ramey said it was bullshit, but Tracy was at the bar and you were already on the news. I don't remember the rest of that day except that Barry was there, he knew how much I loved you and waited patiently until we were over. I never loved him like he loved me, but I am grateful he was there...now he is in heaven too. The next day we watched Romeo and Juliet and at the end he whispered that I had better not do the same...how the hell did he know the reason I chose that movie? My friend Ryan came to Norfolk to get me so I could go to GI and find out the details and when the funeral was going to be. We met PoppaWop at the bar and from there we went to your dad's. I hugged him and hugged Pegamoose...I can't fucking believe that all this shit was over her! Ok so it wasn't, she was just the jumping point, the drugs are the beginning. Between your dad and PoppaWop, I got the entire story and I was in shock...honestly I can't remember feeling anything. I promised your dad that I would keep in contact, I did for a while and I think I need to again. When we left there I was taken to Stacy's apartment and thats when I remember feeling again...it was anger, jealousy, and pure hatred. She flaunted all of your stuff and your pictures and told of all the great times you had together....funny only 2 months before that you hated her, but I never told her that. Then I felt a feeling that I have to carry with me everyday...truly loved. She told me that you talked about me, how much you loved me, how much you missed me, and that everything fell apart once I was gone. She told me that you moved me to Norfolk because you wanted me to have a chance, get off the drugs, and have a normal life...you knew that I would never have a chance in GI, the meth capital of the world. Stacy assured me that it broke your heart, but that you thought I deserved a chance. I guess you didn't realize that in Norfolk, I could find dope just as easy. Stacy gave me your goofy hat (the one you put on that day and acted silly) and she also gave me a purse. I hadn't used in many many hours so I went the one place I knew to find some sort of drug, Janele's. While me and Ryan sat there smoking pot, she went on about how rightious your death was, how you went out in a blaze of glory, made it on the front page and the top news...she said that you would have wanted it this way. No amount of weed could have stopped me from the hate I felt for her right then. How could the one person that had lost her mother and understood when I was sad about mine, possibly be trying to tell me that this was ok? There is nothing about it that is ok...it will never be "ok". When I left her apartment all I wanted was to escape, I didn't want to be in GI feeling, I wanted to go home and be high...so I left. When I got home I did get high, but then I went to bed for a while...I remember Candi making me come out for Thanksgiving dinner, but I don't think I ate that much...I went back to bed. I realized that I didn't just want to be high, I wanted to be with you...I wanted to die. I was on a path of self-destruction and I didn't care who I hurt along the way. Barry was over supportive, but eventually I drove him to the point of having Ryan take me to Columbus. Ryan was a good enabler and I used every drug he had, plus when Barry came to visit, I used his. I stopped letting others prepare my hits and I put obscene amounts on those spoons. Everyone I used with voiced concerns or got uncomfortable over the amounts I used...yet no one had the courage to stop me. I thought no one knew, but no that I am clean I know they did...I was trying to join you. Even being high couldn't stop the thoughts, feelings, and memories. March 2004 I became sick but continued using...a few days later Ryan was telling me that I was sick (I had a fever so bad I was shaking) but I was still asking him for more dope. That's the last thing I remember that day, I didn't get anymore dope, instead I passed out and taken to the hospital. I think it was the next day that I woke up, confused with Ryan standing there worried. The doctor said that I had contracted a blood infection that had spread throughout my body because I didn't get help right away. He said that I almost died....I got scared. I just wanted to stop hurting, I didn't want to miss you anymore or live with what happened...I thought the only cure was death. I went to treatment in Lincoln and I even stayed clean for almost 2 years. I met perhaps the only man that I could ever love this much, I didn't ever think I could love this much. I am back on track, I have over 20 months clean and I really think that you would be proud of me. I am taking your wish for me to heart because today I know that I have a chance...I just wish you had. I am working steps and part of them is letting go, making amends, and forgiving myself...I am not sure I can do all these things. Most of the time a thought of you makes me smile, but there are still dark times when I am selfish I'd rather have you here...like this time of year. Hopefully this won't last til after Thanksgiving.

Goodbye   11-18-2005
If I had known that night, it was our last goodbye-I would've begged you not to go
I would've cried, I would've tried-but there was no way for us to know
Time can pass so quickly-I can't believe I've come this far
When it seems like just yesterday that I held you in my arms
For a while I felt as if I couldn't go on-Meth was my escape
It seemed as if your path was the one that I would take
I was almost there, thankfully I got scared-I guess the heavens will have to wait
It was hard and there are scars, but at least I'm not too late
Now I live for me and I live for you-I hope that makes you smile
Cause that's the way I'll remember you-I made you happy for a while
Life goes on, I have moved on-I am ready to say goodbye
That doesn't mean I won't think of you-I will live on and let you die
Goodbye
Perhaps if I say it enough times it will be true! I love you Marty, I miss you Marty...please smile!

Letter to the toothless monster

As a part of healing myself, it has been suggested that I write letters to some people who I can't say what I need to say in person either by death or because it will cause harm in some way. I am currently trying to write one to my abuser and I have writer's block. It was easy to write about what he did to my little sister, but when it was time to start about myself I couldn't think. I have thought to pick up and try again for days now but I can't seem to find the courage to do so. Perhaps I am scared that the pain I already feel will hurt double that. Maybe I am just not ready to face this or I am not willing to let go of this anger, hatred, and the blame and shame I have put on myself. That would be crazy though, right?

Warning This is a dangerous thought pattern, what I would change if I could

I know that we are suppose to live just for today because yesterday is gone and we can't predict the future....but if I could go back....

I would give more hugs and say I love you a billion more times.
I would be the big sister I should have been.
I would treat my mother with respect.
I would not start smoking, drinking, or using drugs.
I would not have dropped the charges the first time.
I would not have beat up that house parent which got me kicked out of the best place I ever knew.
I would stay in school, go to homecoming, go to prom, and graduate.
I would be true to myself and others.
I would hold out for true love.
I would be there.
I would hold on to loved ones while they were here.
I would say what I mean and mean what I say.
I would let go.

But since I can't go back I guess I need to work on what I can do today, besides if it wasn't for all the moments I wish I had done differently, I wouldn't be who I am, where I am, or with the people I am now.

Losing My Religion but Gaining Spirituality

I grew up with a preacher for a grandfather and a grandmother who played the organ in our Nazarene church. I attended every Sunday morning, Wednesday nights, youth fundraisers, and I went to church camp during the summer. I knew all of the stories, comandments, what to do, what not to do, and I even had every chapter's name memorized in order from Genisis to Revelations. I sung every song, recited every prayer, participated in every program, and even began doing Bible Debating there towards the end. I was suppose to believe everything that the church told me about how we got here, all the miracles that happened, what constitutes as a hell-worthy or heaven-worthy act, and that if I follow all of their rule, I will be saved. SAVED! That is such a funny concept now that I am where I am looking back. My grandparents were dead by the time I turned 12 years old and until then, they were the ones who took me to church and funded all of my after school activities. In a nutshell, they tried to save me from the insanity of drugs, alcohol, parties, and abuse that was going on at home. Once they were gone there was no one left to save me, not even God. Soon enough I found my little escapes . At first it was the little things I could control like not eating, exercizing, and acts of self harm. Later I began drinking, using drugs, sneaking out at night, skipping school, dating (sex), and eventually running away. Even after going to juvenile jail and being made a ward of the state, I had to keep escaping, it had become an addiction. When I got placed in a christian group home in a tiny town far away from home it seemed as if I was safe again, safe enough to not have to escape. I hated the local Mennonite churches, but I was doing good in school and had little problems with the rules. One summer we went to a college campus for camp and this college was affiliated with a church. This church seemed to make sense to me and my house parents found a way for me to be able to go there on the Sundays when I wasn't on home visits. Ahhh yes, the home visits....the stupidist thing ever thought of by this state when the home is still as insane as when the child was taken. Sure at the time I thought my weekends and weeks during the summer were the best, what teenager wouldn't? I got everything I wanted and was allowed to anything because my mother was too drunk to care or perhaps because she was trying to gain my forgiveness for the hell that was my childhood...who knows? Eventually I wanted to go home and that want was more powerful then my good grades, acceptance letters from universities, my friends, and the warm fuzzy feelings I recieved when I attended church or listened to my christian tapes. I had spent 3 years in that group home being as perfect as anyone could possibly be in hopes of being good enough to go home, yet I was still there with no hopes in the near future. Then one day, in a moment of extreme anger, I did something that was completely out of character for me, I beat the shit out of a house parent. I was then told that when it comes to violence, I would only get 2 chances and then they would kick me out....really bad thing to tell a 16 year old who wants to leave. So I waited about a week and decided one day, eventhough I was not angry, to beat the shit out of the same houseparent again. Perhaps that was the moment when I lost my religion for good. After that I was terrified that the judge would send me somewhere worse, now looking back, he did. I was sent back to live with my mother for the first time in 3 years. When her boyfriend began abusing me a few months later, I knew that there was no one, nothing, and there sure as hell wasn't the God I knew watching over me or protecting me. Over the years I have realized what any christian does not want their children to figure out and that is that I have the right to choose my own faith. Oh this is definently a right that I use to its fullest potential. Before the drugs became as heavy as they ended up getting, I had times of what some might call soul searching. I studied every religion, cult, myth, spirituality, science, and I even studied Satanism. I realize today that the only thing I have ever wanted was to have something to believe in because I couldn't believe in myself, God, or the people around me. I became interested in Native American spirituality, Asian cultures, Pagan religions, and the beliefs of gods and goddesses in many different countries around the world. I tried to just follow one, but it never worked for me, there was always something about it that I could pick apart with science and logic. The Pagan religions and beliefs made the most sense to me, but by then I was already too far into my drug use to really get into it. My many years of being assaulted, raped, used, having guns to my head, and doing unspeakable things to get more drugs were more evidence to me that the god I once knew had left me. The first time I went to treatment I was told that I had to have a higher power and that it didn't matter what my higher power was. This was so hard for me to believe with the word god in almost every sentence of the recovery book I had. But I chose a higher power, which at the time was exactly what it is now....the horned god and the mother goddess. I was actually told at that treatment center that I had chosen the wrong higher power, that my higher power wasn't "real enough" to keep me clean. I was high within 48 hours of leaving treatment. I had a couple of more treatment centers and one time I was able to stay clean for almost 2 years, but I didn't have anything to believe in because I couldn't believe in their god and I thought I wasn't allowed to have the higher powers that I wanted...the ones I could believe in. This time around I am doing this for me, which means I don't give a fuck if others disapprove of my beliefs. It is still hard in meetings when the word god is mentioned or during the serenity prayer, but I have learned to just skip that word. I also still have issues with others not liking my choices when it comes to spirituality. I have doubled my practices in Paganism and I have begun to study further into it. Today my higher power changes with each moment according to what is happening then. When I am in nature my higher power can be nature itself, or the gods and goddesses associated with every aspect of nature here on earth, above, or below. When I pray, there doesn't have to be a name to it...sometimes there is though since there are gods and goddesses associated to just about everything in life. I love to celebrate the sabbats, equinoxes, and solstices. I am able to look at the world around me and see the blessings in every season, animal, person, plant, or experience. I am also able to see all that is wrong and I feel compelled to make it right again. Have I chosen the right path of spirituality? For you, probably not, but for me....yes I have!