Coral’s Healing Room at Coralsblog.com 505-269-9242 iwritetohealmyself@gmail.com I rise early. I go to bed early. If you need me, I will make myself available to you.

And I will never be the same…

Good morning everyone and happy Monday. This blog is in answer to those of you asking me if I am okay. I am not okay. I really am not okay.

I will preface this writing to say that this is my experience of my life. This is still so fucking edited, so toned down…so empty. I know you are worried about me and that you have been for a while. I want to tell you why I’m not okay. I mean no harm to anyone, especially not my father. I will not keep family secrets anymore. Secrets I was asked to keep were hurled like missiles at me in that kitchen. My sobbing and my tears and that of my little brother were not even acknowledged. Our pleas and our questions and our moms legacy and her wishes, all smashed into a million pieces in that home we grew up in. We asked for time alone with him and had to fight for a couple of hours, just to be with him. On her way out, after my brother and I both hugged her and told her we loved her, she turned back and said with a huge grin across her face, “I guess I’ll go shoppin’ and spendin’ your Daddy’s money…”and with a cackle that pierced my soul and my reality, she and my Dad headed out the door. Shawn and I sat dumbfounded and broken and we probably should have gotten up and left, for we already knew. We went to the man who raised us to be in integrity, to ask of him the truth. Truth was denied and the shock has not had a chance to wear off yet. So, before I continue, I want to be very clear that I love my father very, very much. I will always love my Daddy. My Dad made his decisions and my Dad walked out of my life in almost every way he has ever been in my life. As I always have, I held on. I always hold on. I always try harder. I don’t know why and I stand corrected. Henceforth, if you walk away from me, just keep walking, because I’m not coming after you. This includes my father. I made excuses and I defended he and his behavior. I was sure his grief had gotten the best of him and that was not in his right mind. I am sure now that in addition to his grief, he is someone that I do not know. This isn’t grief that I see now, as much as nothing much at all. The man whom I called my hero and whom I wanted to be just like…my Dad…has hurt me in ways unimaginable in the last year or so. Countless attempts to talk to him and to work it out…to understand and to be understood…and I am left like this. I am not okay. I have held this as to not dishonor our family or the man I modeled my life after anymore. I did not dishonor and disgrace this family. I was dishonored and disgraced by my family with the implied consent of my family. I am mother fucking done being hurt like this. So with all of my love and what little bit of respect that I can muster, I write this morning for the greatest man I never knew. (Thank you Reba)

Saturday was the most difficult day of my life so far and I am still reeling from the barrage of emotions and feelings that I had to slam back down. I have been ambiguous or silent or scattered and mostly in shock. I am still in shock and I am not okay. This is not to say that I won’t be okay. This is only to say that right now, and for a while, I’ve not been okay. I’ve allowed this sorrow to appear to be under the shroud of grief of my mother’s passing, and some of this grief belongs to that pain. Most of this grief though is for someone still living who has chosen to be more deceased to me than she is. Most of this pain is in my inability to accept that the man I have loved more than any man in my life, has become a stranger to me. The close knit family that I grew up in wasn’t so fucking close after all. The illusions outside of our front door do not match the images of the goings on behind that front door. Our family of four, down to three after my mom died, and slowly unraveling, has been blown apart. The beautiful home on Kings Row has become a place that I cannot be and do not feel comfortable or welcome. I went there on Saturday with my little brother, and we will never be the same. Details are excruciating and not really so important. The lingering pain is unmanageable and I am in the depths of my despair. I wake crying in the morning and I cry myself to sleep. I’ve not been considered, not for many, many months. I’ve not been included or invited, although I’ve been an afterthought a few times. In fact, on his most Important day since my mom passed away, his very own wedding, my Dad excluded me. My brother warned him that hurting me like this would not be able to be repaired and he cared not. His day. His life. His decision and so it was. I was not at my Dads wedding because he wed where I was tortured and abused for the first 18 years of my life, and I would not put myself there. My Dad said I didn’t come because I could not stand to see him marry someone other than my mom. There is no truth to this and I never said this. My dad denies saying it in the same sentence he admits that he did. I offered to officiate my fathers wedding, so just to clear all of this up…I told my Dad to do what he wanted to do…his life…his wedding…and if he wanted me there, it could not be in Carlsbad. My Dad did not want me there and I was not there, as his wedding was in Carlsbad. The deceit began before the wedding and I did not recognize my Dad. Missed lunch dates and days with no phone calls…no more cemetery visits or holidays…no more. My Dad, without any warning, left the building. Since my mom died, there have been no family holidays…not one. This year though, our childhood home housed someone else’s family for the holidays.

I am not a jealous and spoiled rotten child. I am not in love with my Dad, although I’ll admit, the co-dependency and the closeness of the relationship of me and my parents turns out to be pretty fucking unhealthy. I had no idea. It’s all I ever knew. I was not upset that he married someone else. I am upset that everything became a fucking secret. I am shattered that there man who taught me to truth became a mother fucking liar. I am crushed that his provisions and provisions that he and my mom had in place, for all of our lives, have been dismantled in short order, to accommodate he and his new bride. I am horrified that legal documents were drawn up behind my brothers and my back to counter those lifetime agreements amongst the four of us. That new document was thrown at me on Saturday and I will never be the same. Again, we should have gotten up and left and we stayed to honor him. What we were told was in those documents was untruthful as well, and we are not okay. It wasn’t what was said, that kills me…it is everything that wasn’t said at all. Burning and important questions left unanswered and cruel and callous comments and rebuttals. And I am not okay.

From the man who taught me that if they can live with it, I can live without it, I am learning front and center what that means and how that hurts. The lesson he taught me in words my entire life, he has come to teach me full circle, and I regress. If he can live with it, I must learn to live without it, and I am headed back into prayer to find a way to do so.

I wanted to handle this internally and I wanted to wake up from the nightmare that became my life and to somehow shake it all off. I wanted to hear that what I felt was not the way it was. I knew better. I have always just known better. I’ve not always done better and I will do better now, to take care of me and to protect me.

I feel like my head and my body are empty and floating like a helium balloon into the nothingness and the everythingness of all of this. My soul screams and shrieks in excruciating pain. My heart feels to be being ripped apart and shredded with razors and then dropped into a jar of lemon juice. The burning and the stinging and the pain won’t quit. The tears won’t quit. My mom is dead and her wishes are dead…her wants for my brother and I…even her wants for my Dad…all dead, and what we spent our entire life trying to fulfill…her wishes….all fucking dead. And Fred says, no more…no more of Sherry’s wishes…I’ve wishes of my own and she left all of this to me. And so it is. And I am not okay. Let the shopping commence and go enjoy spending my dead moms money. It’s her money that you’re shopping with after all. And she sure did love her shopping, so I hope it brings you the same artificial joy that it brought her, as you both scurry around trying to fill that void…fill that hole, that is yourself, in the absence of yourself.

Let us pray.

Dear Heavenly Father,

Please God guide me through this hell that I find myself in. Please Lord hold my brother and my father. Please know my heart, even as it shatters and my voice, even as it shakes. I do not know how I got here. I do not know how this happened. I will not hold these secrets or honor the lies anymore father. I ask for your grace and loving mercy. I ask you God for your love. I am broken father. I am broken, and I ask you to build me anew, in your image with your love. For now though Lord, please just hold me and wipe my tears. I ask you to wrap your arms around me as I come to terms with the pain and the terror in my heart. Please forgive me for words too sharp and silences too long. I learned to strike and then retreat and I ask you to take this from me, that I only ever be love and light from now on. Right now God, please provide me refuge in your arms, for I am not okay. Please love me and guide me and direct me and save me. Please love and guide and direct and save us all. As I set this down God, I cannot get back to my feet, and so I ask you to carry me. Please God show me your mercy, for I am not okay. Amen.

  • As always, I write to heal myself. I have been holding this for so long. I have been questioning this for so long. I have been unwell for so long, knowing in my heart what was denied to my face. This has been the story of my life and I am setting it all down. I’ll not be silent or ambiguous-any longer to protect the innocence of the afflicted, afflicting themselves upon me. God rest my mothers souls and guide my fathers heart. God love Shawn and I and our wives through this and give us the strength to let go of what we cannot change. I send all that no longer serves us back to the universe to be recycled for the greater good of us all. And so it is.