Growing Up Nikki

I remember sitting in a hearing booth in kindergarten terrified. I don’t know how they managed to get me in that booth, by myself, close the door, and get me to sit through and participate in a hearing test. I failed the test in one ear. I eventually learned this. I don’t know when nor how. I do know that my bio mother knew I was hard of hearing. I don’t know if my bio father knew or anyone else with the need to know. No one talked with me about it EVER. Over many years time I would discover what being hard of hearing is. I learned of a deaf relative on the maternal side but I can’t say who. A male, much older than me. I don’t know where in the country he lived. It is the normal thing in this dysfunctional family to throw away people. Real, live, people. If anything is/was found undesirable in a member it was ignored, kept secret and held against you. FOR THE REST OF YOUR LIFE. But know this, you could hang around but you will be treated with destain. I heard of it happening and watched it first hand. Dare you ask or say anything of it, all hell would break loose. The responses would always be disproportionate to the prompt. By the time I was 7 years old damage was well underway. I had lost trust in a few adults in my family circle. I know now that it wasn’t me but my understanding that whatever the problem was with them should not be pointed out by me. I was sad and would remain sad for decades. It became part of my personality. I was in my mid/late teens before I understood that the deaf/hard of hearing had a language all their own, readily accessible to/for me to take me out of her incapable/unwilling hands and thrive. That was too much like the right/loving thing to do. Instead she needed me to abuse and my life to emotionally distort, like hers. I didn’t need my bio father like I needed my bio mother and he wasn’t aware of my broken pieces for he was also broken. So the story goes I was stuck … my formative years went on … tainted … this way was my normal and I would learn that children my age where just as mean. Today I’m calling it evil because it is nothing short of that.

The Buck Stops Here

I will start by saying YOU will certainly be feeling some kinda way by the time this is over. Brace yourself. Several weeks ago, I had to confront my bio father with some quite disturbing allegations that my bio mother dumped in my lap/poured into my precious soul over the decades & continued to stir up in my mind until at age 53 when I’d learned who/what she really was/is and what had been happening since the day she realized I was developing in her womb. Out of his own mouth he seemed proud to admit to me that he knew something was wrong with her right away. But you married her and eventually left me with her and basically never looked back. It has taken a number of world shattering events over five decades for me to come to some forever life altering decisions. Errbody mad. Personality disorders are a very real thing. Some people hunt other people. Some people are drawn to disfunction because it is normal for them. Generation after generation. The bullies stick together even sharing victims while victims repeatedly second guess their intuition over and over again often for a lifetime. Some giving in to suicide unable to cope. I began experiencing the devastating effects of emotional neglect at a very early age. Untangling the mess left behind by these individuals has been/is a decision. Either do it or die, absolutely. It has been the hardest thing I’ve ever decided to do. You will do it alone. You will come to know that these people are everywhere. EVERYWHERE. Once you see them you cannot unsee them. Be brave. You’re gonna need to be.


JADED. This, I never recall having ever been called, until on this day. By, my son. He said I was Jaded no less than three times in a single conversation. What I can not do is control how I am viewed by another/others. What I can do is take an honest look inward to see if there is any bit of truth to his claim., if their credibility is respected, defines jaded as -adjective – 1.dulled or satiated by overindulgence 2.worn out or wearied, as by overwork or overuse 3.dissipated   -noun- 1.a worn-out, broken-down, worthless, or vicious horse 2.a disreputable or ill-tempered woman   What I will agree with is that I am a bit weary (I will NOT be apologizing for that/NOR offering ANYONE explanation regarding). defines disreputable as 1.having a bad reputation 2.discreditable; dishonorable 3.shabby or shoddy (intentionally rude or inconsiderate); of poor quality or condition. Ill-tempered is defined as having a bad or irritable disposition. With all of this being said, he no doubt sees these very traits … though not mine.

Long Gone

By the time you stumble upon this correspondence, THE ONE you are looking for will be long gone. Remnants of her, as you may recollect, are not justifiable. No trace of her exists anywhere in space or time. Too little, too late best sum up any effort/your predicament in this regard. Consider ‘the mission’ impossible. You WILL die tryin’ …

Yet another kink in my life has presented itself only to be straightened right out! I woke up a couple of days ago with my mind fixed firmly on a particular mission. Unlike anything I’d ‘ever’ done before. Honorable mention to those birds outside my bedroom window that have so beautifully just begun to do their thing this early morning! So my journey began. I knew that there would possibly be 2 roadblocks perhaps as many as 3 that were about get dealt with in regard to this mission! They each rolled over and gave in to the process without a hint of resistance. Full steam ahead then! ‘I’ won’t be standing in my own way … names have been changed to protect the innocent.

Just In the Nick of Time

A few hours short of three days ago my youngest of four sons reached the twenty-first anniversary of his birth. Needless to say its been twenty-one years of nonstop E-VER-Y- THING as far as he has been concerned! He has singlehandedly made me the ballerina I’d always wanted to be by keeping me on my toes. My many deep breaths and long slow exhales and all that he brought in between in the long run gave me a certain type of strength I would need but never knew existed until today. Could he have known how much he was helping me? Naaah!  He wore me out but it was worth every bit of it. Even if I could I wouldn’t change a single thing … except maybe him being younger a little longer …