Beautiful chaos

You’re dangerous

You’re the worst kind of amazing

You are a demon in disguise

I don’t want to let you go

I don’t know how

I can’t

You made me your fool

A doll for your rage

You tricked me

A sense of security

A false love

I am yours

I fall at your words

Hopeless

But how do I let you go,

When I still believe in you?

When I still believe there’s a heart in there

You’re my destruction

My fallen angel

My beautiful chaos.

-B. 6-7-18

I soared…

I guess this is the way it is now

The way the course has run

You’ve said it all

Shown all you’re cards

I know your games

I know your tricks

You wicked thing

Twisting and poisoning the life out of me

I guess this is where we are now

I’ve seen your face underneath that mask

I’ve seen your soul, so full of darkness

So is this what you’ve become

Is this what we are

Or should I say I am no longer

Disowned by you

Now only one daughter,is what you have

But the joke is on you

Because you didn’t clip my wings

You pushed me off the edge

And I soared…

aren’t you scared now, mother…

-B.

5-5-18

2017

2017, pretty much a big fuck you but with a cherry on top. A very big sweet red cherry on top.

The highlights; I failed nursing school, I got back in, passed my third semester and made it to my final semester but not before the worst and best summer of my life.

The summer of 2017, started out amazing. I was ready to study for school, I had friends, new friends, I had purpose. Then I was all alone. Everyone fell off the face of the earth. I couldn’t study. I was all alone, all the time.

I learned a lot in my loneliness. I learned to take care of my myself. Become healthy. Even lost 20 lbs.

I got back into my art, in any creative outlet I could. Writing, photography, drawing, making jewelry.

I learned how to cope. Cope in a healthy way. Listening to music again, art, going to the river. I learned to be alone and be okay with it. I started to enjoy myself, my company. I have never done that.

I decided it was time to meet people, specifically start a relationship, and maybe make some friends. I set out on a few dating websites. I went out on a few meets.

But, the second to last one… July 30th… I’ll never forget. I made 17 cigarettes for that night. It’s funny the things you remember. That night, I was raped.

I didn’t think of it walking back to the car. Not until I started the car and an overwhelming urge to vomit came over me. The next weeks were hell. I was late. My period was late.

But for some reason, I kept talking to another guy I had given my number to. I remember the day after it happened, he texted me for the first time. I was skittish and I was not really into it but over the next few weeks he was persistent.

I eventually told him what happened. I hadn’t told anyone. Not even my mom. I trusted him. There was something about him. He had been touched by the darkness too. I just knew.

I finally got my period, day 40 of my cycle. A week before I had told my mom. She urged me to go to the police but in the past when I went to them about my past, they never believed me, there was no justice. So, you understand why I didn’t trust them.

Time went on, I was numb, depressed, drinking. I barely left my room, the chair in the corner by the window. Where I sat and smoked. But he was there to talk. He was the only person I spoke to.

I didn’t withdraw from school, I thought going would help. I tried to study before the semester but I couldn’t and my mother was not helpful. Always on me about studying.

In August, that guy and I got closer. He asked me to be his on the 15th. He knew I was fucked up, he knew I was not interested in anything sexual but he wanted me. All of me. So I said yes.

I was in a downward spiral. Looking for anything to help. I met him, he made me feel safe. In control.

School started but we made it work. He lived over an hour up north. He would come once a week and get a hotel room. School got bad, my home life got worse. I was drowning. It was worse than the summer.

I decided to leave my last semester at school. I just couldn’t. The PTSD had set in. My moms abuse was too much.

I had finally had enough. I left. At 28, I left. I stood up for myself and left. He saved me. I packed all my stuff up in my car and his. He took me home.

Then I went back. I thought it would be different but it wasn’t.

Days later, he saved me again and I never went back.

I don’t know what I would have done if I had never met him.

It’s 2018, now. Life is hard. I’m just learning to be an adult and I still take baby steps. I still ask for help with everything. Being under my mothers thumb, feeling feeble for so long, has damaged me good but I got this.

I guess what I’m saying is, it’s never too late. Follow your heart. Follow your dreams.

-B.

1-12-17

Dear Amy (part 3) 

Dear Amy, 
Everyone always tells you, when you’re adopted, that they gave you up for a good reason, that they did it so you could have a better life. I know why you did what you did. I can understand that. 

The thing about adoption though, is that even though you may be thinking of your baby and giving them a better life, in that moment, no one is really ever thinking of the child. 
What I mean by that is, that no one thinks about the child afterwards. The emotional repercussions of growing up adopted. How that one choice, will change and affect everything in their life forever. 

Change how they view the world, themselves. How others view them, treat them. How they grow up, who they grow up to be. 
Identity is a big problem for a lot of adopted people. Not knowing who or where you came from. Who you look like, your medical history, any history for that matter. It causes an emotional disturbance within you. I know because when I didn’t know you, when I was going through puberty, as a teenager, this became very evident, a big focal point in my life. I felt lost. 
Another thing that was hard growing up, is the bullying. Kids are mean. If you are different in any way they will use that against you. And they did. My siblings included. Adoption is not something you come by often, people, kids don’t understand it. So, they make fun of it. They made fun of me. I felt like I was bad, or there was something wrong with me. 
Then there is just the idea of adoption that no one worries about. The way it makes you feel. How you were abandoned by your birth mom, so you must be horrible. How no one could ever love you because they couldn’t. Though this may all be irrational, no one realizes the impact of adoption, the abandonment, the idea that you were given up, what it can do. What it did to me. What your choice did to me.
I love you, mom.

bean 

11-21-17 

Dear Amy (part 2)

Dear Amy, 
I know my last letter was harsh but you need to understand that I have not had an easy life. I may have wanted for nothing but it does not compare to the shit that has happened to me. 
I am angry because you never even gave me a chance or a choice. I would have rather struggled and been with you, stayed with you, like I was supposed to, than this. I know you did what you thought was best but it wasn’t good enough. 
Growing up, I saw the mother-child bond my siblings had with my mom. The one you can only have if you’ve come from their womb. I never got to experience that kind of bond, that kind of love. 
Growing up, I always felt out of place in my family. I never fit in. I knew I was not like them. I did not belong with them, to them. From a young age, I tried running away, saying I wanted to go home to my real mom. 
I know I already mentioned this in the last letter but every year on my birthday, when most children wished for things, I wished for you. I never wished that you would be some amazing person to steal me away. I just wanted to know you. I just wanted you. 
You have always been the only person I ever wanted to know. The most important person to ever exist. The person I love unconditionally. And because of that, I hate you more than anything. Because of that love, I am angry. Angry does not even begin to describe how I feel. 
I feel abandoned. I feel unwanted. I feel unloved. I hate myself because I wasn’t good enough to keep. 

Finding you was the best thing that ever happened to me. Having you in my life for those 5 short years, were the best moments I could ever dream of, even if we had our fights. 
I know, I wasn’t what you were expecting. I wasn’t what you had hoped I’d be. That we didn’t see eye to eye. 
I only wish you had worked through your demons, so we could have been in each others lives longer. I had no choice but to cut ties with you. The constant feeling of being accepted and rejected but you, the most important person I will ever know, cut like a thousand knives because of how much I love you. 

I was for the better when you were in my life. I was happier. I finally felt that bond but it wasn’t enough for you to just accept me as I am. 
On top of everything, I finally had you… But all you wanted was your baby. You didn’t want me. 

I can forgive you for the things you said now but I don’t know how to forgive you for abandoning me. 
If only you would hear me. Then maybe, I could forgive, begin to forgive you.
I love you 

Always and forever,

Bean
11-20-17

Homesick

Do we really ever stop missing home? Missing what we once thought was safe?
I miss home  

I miss feeling “safe”  

I miss that feeling 
But 

In my 28 years 

Home 

Has never been safe 

 

Safe was this idea 

A fairytale

Something to keep me warm at night.
But 

I’m 28 

And 

Homesick 
I’m homesick 

For a place 

That I’ve made myself believe 

Believe is safe 
But safe it is not…
-B. 

10-12-17

I choose me!

I choose me 
I didn’t do this for a guy 

I didn’t do this because I’m lazy 

I didn’t do this for childish reasons 
I choose me 
I did this because you’re toxic 

I did this because my life was not my own 

I did this because I was not free 
I choose me 
I want to be free 

I want to live my life 

I want to make my own choices 

I want to fall and get up 

I want to fail and succeed 
I choose me 
On my own terms 
Me 

For 

Once 

Because 

I

Want 

To 

Live 
-B. 

10-12-17