Entry #63

Dear Reader,

I went to costco today. And the trip went great. The kids did amazing. But it was wierd. It was like walking around in a sea full of people. None of us know each other, none of us know the others story.

Here I was feeling awkward for trying to do such a normal thing such as shopping for food for my family, during such an awful time in my life.

I was mentally exhausted by the end of the evening. To everyone else I looked like a normal mom, doing an everyday thing. But I wasnt.

I was struggling not to remember shopping in Costco with my parents as kids. As I sat down to eat my hotdog and my pizza I remembered sitting down with my parents and grandparents. I wanted to get a very berry sunday after I was done shopping because it was our thing.

It was something I did with my family, especially my Papa. I cherished those memories. But they too have shunned me. I do not exist in there world today. My feelings do not matter.

And at the end of the trip, I didn’t get that very berry sunday. Not because I didnt want it anymore. But because I was so mentally exhausted, too tired to even stand in line for that very berry goodness.

Thats the sad part about all this. My mind is working so hard all day to fight the bowling balls, that its hard to even give my attention to something as simple as shopping.

That is why lately. I like my routine. The mind is a bit quiter when you dont have to wonder what you are going to do next.

I cant wait to replace all the memories that make me sad, into just the times that were good. Because despite the fact that I was fighting an internal battle as a child that I shouldn’t have had to fight, I still wanted to enjoy the little things in my life. And so I did. And I loved those Costco trips. And I loved playing on the side of my papas mountain. I loved hiking up there, climbing onto a huge lava rock and pretending that I was on Little House on the Prairie. And I loved to imagine what it would be like to be an Indian grinding down those rocks to make food.

And I loved how my papa is the one who taught me to drive a tractor. And all those times living with him…maybe he did know what was happeing to me at home, and maybe he didnt. But in those moments, I never even wondered that. I just knew that when I was at Papas, amd Dad was gone. I was safe…. and I truely believe I was.

My curiosity for alot of things. For having a Garden one day, to farming and working my own soil. Came from him, and his stories. I always wanted to be like him.

Bold, bright, funny, and shy. And His laugh and smile had a way of lighting up my whole world when I was a kid. And I think sometimes thats the hardest thing for me to swallow. That in my mind..about a month or two ago, I cant recall at the moment; the only reason he told me I needed to get help….and Instead of making me feel validated for my feelings, he shut me down…and never called me again. Was because They knew. My Grandma and my Papa knew?

And its devastating to feel like those people who played such a huge role in raising you.. some of the biggest roles….and they don’t believe you. Because you feel like, anyone in there right mind would understand your reaction.

Not look down on you asking “why are you begging me.” When you are literally on the ground pleaing with them to listen to you. Pleaing with them… to Love You.

All of my world. My childhood world. Turned its back on me. If you as a reader know me, and you question my intentions then maybe you never really knew me. And that isn’t my loss. Its yours. The truth will prevail and in the end I will know who the true people are that stand behind me. And I will gwt to move on with my life.

On a possitive note I will be glad I figured out where you stood before I had you deeply involved in my childrens lives. Because You can hurt me, but noone dares to hurt them. And soon they will forget You.

Love Ally