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.

My name is Coral and I am five years vegan tomorrow!

I am sitting here in the studio with Nahko on Shawn’s Birthday, and I was remembering that the last time I ate my friends. Tomorrow is my five year veganversary! It was March 9th 2014 and My mom made my brothers favorite meal…my mom made her famous enchiladas. My last non-vegan meal was my moms ground beef enchiladas, smothered in cheese. My brothers birthday meal was my very last non-vegan meal. Five years ago something shifted for me and I want to write about that this afternoon. I didn’t stop eating animals because I didn’t fancy the taste of those enchiladas. If you ever had my moms enchiladas, you know what I am saying. They were the best enchiladas I have EVER eaten! And her birthday cakes…I didn’t stop eating those because I didn’t like how they tasted. I have to tell you that I stopped eating animals because I finally realized that I was eating animals.

My name is Coral and I am vegan. This is my story and I hope it teaches you a thing or two, as my life has taught me, a thing or two. I was so fucking disassociated that I truthfully had not made the connection, that I was eating a once living, breathing sentient being. Ground beef enchiladas did not equal our beautiful cows, Karuna or Ahimsa to me. We didn’t have Karuna or Ahimsa back then. Chicken fajitas weren’t Piñon. Lisa and Janet and Negro weren’t chicken tacos. Bacon wasn’t Sidney. The pork chops that I ate were not named Jenny Sue or Brixen. Namaste wasn’t a slab of ham on my plate and I wasn’t eating the ovulation of Lisa and calling it my breakfast. I wasn’t waiting to slaughter Samuel and Duncan for Thanksgiving dinner. I wasn’t stroking my lucky rabbits foot and making a wish. I wasn’t eating goat cheese on my crackers. I hadn’t made the correlation that all lives matter. I didn’t get that the lives of the sentient beings on my plate mattered at all. I thought they came here for me. I was so fucking ignorant that I believed that these beings came here for my gratification…to satisfy my tastes and my hunger. Five years ago I did not know that my food was actually the Caracas of my dead friends. I was eating dead flesh. I was drinking the bodily secretions meant for baby cows. I was eating the period of a fucking chicken for breakfast every day, with a side of crispy Tombstone. I was fucking asleep! And the worst part was that I had absolutely no idea that I was asleep. Only a couple of months sober from alcohol, I was definitely a hot fucking mess back then. I was so asleep and tuned out that I was about to be on an adventure like no other. I was beginning the journey of waking up…becoming conscious and aware and concerned. I had no fucking idea then…I was about to be transformed! I had no idea that I was so asleep. I could not have known how disconnected I truly was.

Five years later and I will tell you this, I will never not be vegan. I will never eat my friends again. I will never not know what I have come to know. I have come to know that their lives matter. Every single one of their lives matter. There are more carcinogens in the food that many of you eat than there are in the cigarettes that some of you smoke. Did you know that? Cigarettes have warning labels. The 40 pounds of raw chicken that you just bought is going to kill you quicker than the cigarettes are going to kill the Marlboro man next door, peering at you over his oxygen tank. Don’t believe me? Do your research. And now that we are outsourcing our food supply, so you really think what you are eating is safe? The disconnect is real. That 40 pound tray of chicken that you just bought…those chickens were someone. They were someone. All hacked up on a slab of styrofoam and shrink wrapped, slapped with a price per pound sticker and thrown in your cart. We are so disconnected.

We are raising children. We are teaching classes. We are in leadership roles and in animal rescue. We stand in pulpits and we preach peace. How can we rescue dogs and cats and eat cows, pigs and chickens? Your fucking bologna did have a first name. How do we preach peace when we eat the slaughtered remains of sentient beings? We are disconnected my friends. We are so disconnected.

Five years ago, I began to connect the dots. I began to question things that seemed wrong to me. I began to give a shit about someone other than myself. I set down my carne adovada burrito and I ate my last poached egg. I stopped buying leather and I made different choices. I started to give a shit and I mean really give a shit about other beings on this planet. Five years ago I stopped eating animals because I came to know that they are not mine to eat or to wear or to exploit.

As my brothers birthday lunch came to a close five years ago, I could never have foreseen how drastically our lives would shift. I could not have known that I would never eat another animal again. I could not have known that my mom would get cancer in a few months and die. I could not have known that our dining room would occupy another family that they wouldn’t welcome us. We don’t sit at that table as a family anymore. We are not a family anymore. I could not have known that I would be giving up some things and others would be taken from me. I gave up eating my friends. I lost my mom to cancer and my dad to someone and someplace far, far away from me. As I cleared those dirty dishes and washed the carcass of my friends into the trash, one last time…I could not possibly have known how my life was about to change. As I kissed my mom goodbye and hugged my dad under the garage door…as I hugged Shawn and JiSan “goodbye” and I drove away on that day…I could not have known all that would come to be of my life. We never truly do know what life has in store for us. We do run out of time. We do. People feel better somehow if we don’t run out of time…and so they say that we don’t. I am here to tell you that we actually do run out of time. So, make it count. Your time…your decisions…make them count. Be mindful of what you put into your body. If it shits, don’t eat it. Truly. For me, that was an easy gauge. I hope the simplicity of this helps you also, because it is that simple. If it has a face and it shits, it’s not yours to eat.

I am blessed to have learned that animals have just as much right to be here as I do. I am grateful to live in Sanctuary with so many beautiful and sentient beings. You may be astounded to know that I can eat whatever you eat and I can eat it vegan. If it’s not vegan, I won’t eat it at all.

My depression fucks with me a lot lately. I am struggling to stay afloat. Being vegan beings me some peace, as I know I have changed the world for some of them. I will spend the rest of my life fighting for the rest of them. For you see, we are all someone, not something. We each have every right to be here. If my depression takes me, at least it wasn’t someone else deciding that I was food, not friend. Truly, when did we decide that we got to decide for everyone, how things are? We have dominion over…we do not have control or reign or power over those without voices. Who told us that we had the right to crucify species after species after species for our own consumption and convenience? We did. We decided that we have no rules and they have no economic value…so fuck it…we decide. Look at us, deciding and shit. Egotistical, ignorant, insensitive and greedy as fuck…is the mentality that my appetite is more important than your life, isn’t it? I mean truly…that is some entitled and ignorant and ass backwards thinking and we are wrong. Plain and simple. We are wrong to slaughter millions of sentient beings for our own gratification…for sport…for our hunger and our taste in clothing and furniture. We cannot make this right…we just can’t. Excuses abound and generations pile, one on top of the other…doing it the way we have always fucking done it. Let me ask you something…How is the way we’ve always done it actually working for us? How is this entitlement and this superiority working out for us and our human counterparts? All you have to do is look around you to see that this isn’t working at all.

You will never catch me competing with you. Every single day though, you will see me fight like hell to be better than I was yesterday. From whom much is given, much is expected. I owe a great debt to the powers that be for my existence here, for my place and my peace and my work here. The debt can only ever be payed forward and it cannot ever be paid with the life of someone else. We each get what we get when we get it. Five years ago, I got it and I am forever changed. Go vegan. Truly…for yourself, for your health, for the planet…for each other…for your kids. I was pretty ignorant and naive…fuck, I still am…I would like to think that I have made a difference though, for someone, by being here.

Living a compassionate lifestyle includes more than eating a vegan diet, just as being sober means more than abstaining from drinking alcohol. When we change the way we look at things, the things we look at change. Friends, not food. Five years not eating my friends has softened my heart and I am so thankful. Five years of learning about the sentient beings in my life and cohabiting them…I cannot imagine how I was ever so thoughtless and reckless and careless. Being more connected now, I shudder at my own disconnect, for I knew not then what I have come to know now.

My life is blessed. I am blessed. I hurt, a lot. Depression keeps me struggling, until it doesn’t. I miss my mom. I miss my dad. Sometimes, I wish I were riding my bike around the block with my little brother, for hours and days on end…going everywhere and nowhere at all. Some days I really do miss my little family so, so much that it throws me into the abyss that swallows me for days. Depression seems to be the one thing I can’t just fucking quit…and every single day, until the day I don’t, I will battle it out. Being vegan has given me a lot of someone’s to fight for and so as best as I can, I stay. As much as I am able, when the calls come and I am needed, I answer. Getting out of me is the only thing that seems to save me at all, in times where I can’t get myself out of the abyss.

Five years ago, I started speaking for them and fighting for them and loving them like a verb. With the love and compassion and guidance of the most amazing vegan I know, I have learned so much. Thank you Tamara for loving me into compassionate space and for helping me to make more compassionate choices. Five years ago my life changed forever. My name is Coral and I am five years vegan tomorrow! For your soul, I encourage you to think about being vegan too. You will not know why you waited so long to assume a lifestyle that does not harm others. Your body will look and feel better. Your heart will open up. You will be better able to look in the mirror…I mean to really look in the mirror. Best of all, no one gets hurt for your appetite. Anyway, that’s all I’ve got today on being vegan. Inspired by my five year veganversary tomorrow…A post for us all to wake up and soften our hearts. Don’t trust me. Go out and try it for yourself! I love you! Have a beautiful day!

Thank you for your service Little Red! I love you!

Good morning everyone! I am happy to announce that we sold Little Red on Sunday! It was bittersweet driving her to her new home in Santa Fe. Every other trip to Santa Fe, Little Red has accompanied me home. For many years Little Red has been my brave companion of the road! We traveled many miles together and took many trips together. If loving Little Red is wrong, I don’t want to be right! I am so grateful for the gift my little Brother gave me all of those years ago, when I lost everything I had except for my house. Shawn signed her title over to me and made her mine. Sunday I signed her title over and made her new owner very happy, when I made Little Red hers. New to me vehicles are the best…all nicely broken in and personalized…and all yours to discover! Enjoy getting to know Little Red and thank you for loving the animals so, so much! It may sound ridiculous, and so I’ll say it loudly and with all of my heart, I’m really glad that Little Red got a good home! I want Little Red to have the best rest of her life too! Thank you for your service Little Red! I love you my dear old friend!

I am making a personal donation to the fundraiser that Chris set up for a new Sanctuary truck for the animals here at Santuario de Karuna. Little Red sold for $3000 and I am donating $3010.00. I am doing this for a very specific and simple reason, and it is this; All gave some and some gave all. Little Red was all I own outright in this world, and I struggled to let her go. I need to pay off FJ (that’s her new name by the way…FJ), and so I listed Little Red on Craigslist for half of what I owe on FJ. I sold her for $3000 and held her for three weeks for the guy who wanted her so much. I got a call the night before I was to sell her and he could no longer buy her. At first, my heart sank. I am pretty attached to FJ you see, and I’m letting go of Little Red too. I was in the midst of losing any security I felt that I had. I really wanted to use that money towards getting the title to FJ. As often happens to me, my best laid plans are derailed. I was driving home and as clearly as anything ever, I knew that Little Red did not belong to me. Little Red was gifted to me and many people helped me to care for and maintain her while I had her. To Shawn and everyone when helped me to maintain her, thank you so much! My Mom and Dad put a lot into her too and so letting her go feels like letting go of a piece of both of them, which is probably the true reason I had such a hard time letting her go. Having lost them, letting her go felt like losing them all over again, in a way. Thank you Mom and Dad and Shawn and countless others who journeyed with Little Red and I. Truly, I needed you and you came through. Thank you. I have been so blessed…so, so blessed. To whom much is given, much is expected, as Tamara always reminds me. So it is with great pleasure and with all of my heart that I donate all of the proceeds from Little Red and one of the last dollars in my bank account, to get a new truck for the Sanctuary. My first ever large donation of $3010.00 to Santuario de Karuna, to go toward the purchase of a new truck for my very dearest friends here at the Sanctuary! I even had to call my bank and have a supervisor override my spending limits! Who knew?!

On behalf of my little Brother Shawn and myself, we donate the proceeds from the truck that became not only my transportation, but also the Sanctuary truck for as long as she could keep up. When I had no way to get to and from work, Shawn gave his truck to me…free and clear and without strings. I pay it forward now for the beautiful beings that I share my beautiful life with, here at Santuario de Karuna. Thank you Shawn and Little Red for bringing color and beauty to my world. Thank you for teaching me what it means to be gifted, and for allowing me the feeling of gifting her forward.

To everyone who has donated so far, thank you, from the bottom of our hearts! We love you! Please keep sharing and donating to help us to reach our goal. It would mean the world to me if you could help us to get the animals their truck! Thank you! I love you! Have a beautiful day!

Check us out on Facebook at Santuario de Karuna and donate there! You are welcome to come out and meet the animals, schedule a tour, become a monthly donor, become a volunteer. We would love to have you be a part of our compassionate community!

Each of us has a choice every day. Moments present themselves and we are called to act. I was gifted an opportunity to see firsthand that from whom much is given, much is expected. Tamara has said this to me many times and I get it now. Thank you baby. So, so many lessons and so, so many blessings for my girl and I lately.

Godspeed Little Red! Thank you for the hundreds of thousands of miles that you traveled with me! Thank you for getting me to and fro and for keeping me safe and warm for all of these years! Thank you to a very generous and beautiful friend of the Sanctuary, who purchased Little Red, to help the animals of Santuario de Karuna!

Have a beautiful day everyone! Be the change you wish to see in the world! I dare you!

A Sherry lesson on “Some gave all” this morning.

Happy Sunday everyone! This morning we are blessed with a “Sherry Lesson” that came to me driving home yesterday. I had an amazing day yesterday with beautiful friends and on my way home, as I prayed, my Mom came through so clearly that I had to share with each of you, this life lesson from my beautiful mom! Welcome to the healing room! I hope you have your coffee and Kleenex in hand, as Sherry nailed it this morning!

For me, as you know, the struggle has been real. As of recent, my father and I are estranged except for snail mail correspondence. The man I love more than any other, and myself have turned our situation over to God, as we simply cannot handle it on our own. We cannot speak civilly to one another right now. Angry and betrayed and hurt enough…I almost hit my own father. I have no clearer sign that I must walk away to save us both right now. We cannot share our lives and so we have gone our separate ways, only bound by the love in our hearts for one another. I pray that love is enough. I pray that no matter who or what or where I go…no matter what does or does not happen, with all of my heart, I pray that my Daddy always knows my love for him; for nothing will ever change my love for you my father. Nothing can ever take from me the love I have in my heart for you, not even you. I love you. I miss you. I turn it over to God, and I ask for prayers and blessings for our broken little family. This is the first time in my life, ever, that I have strayed from my father. This is the first time ever that I have had courage enough to stand up for what is right and then to stand down and be done fighting what I cannot understand or control. And so I set it down. I let go and I let God.

As many of you know, my Mom was a force to be reckoned with. A powerhouse of a woman in a tiny little package…a southern twang in her voice that wasn’t actually southern at all, always made her presence known. Accompanied by the clickety click of her 👠 high heels, Yes, Sherry was a force all her own. So yesterday while driving home, when she clicked her way in, I prepared a place. This is the most valuable Sherry Lesson you will ever get, so go fill up that coffee cup and let’s get ready!

My parents have been such a huge part of my lives, all of my lives. My best friends and my confidants, to an unhealthy point, rendering me extremely co-dependent and financially dependent upon throughout my life. I won’t go into detail as it matters not, I only say anything because Sherry wants us all to learn from this. I could always make that call and get myself bailed out. I could always get some help if the fruits of my labor didn’t cut it. I always had my mom and dad. I do not have my mom and dad anymore and I am thankful, for it is teaching me to rely on me, to trust and to know me. The silver spoon being yanked out of my mouth busted a few teeth and left me breathless and hurting beyond my own comprehension, and I am thankful for I now now my own strength.

With that being said, all that I own in this entire world, outright, is Little Red, my 1996 Toyota T-100 truck. When my ex-wife left me in 2008 and took, literally everything I own, I ended up having to voluntarily repossess my brand new and beautiful black FJ Cruiser back to the credit union. I drove her to the credit union and I told them I was so sorry and I handed them the keys. I was without transport and I was broken. My little brother saw me and he gifted me the truck he bought to haul his motorcycles on, so that I would have a car to drive. Shawn signed the title over and said I owed him nothing. I have driven little red for the past eleven years. Little Red is a piece of my own heart, a gift from my baby brother, so that I didn’t lose everything else too. Thank you Shawn for seeing me and for loving me like a verb. I love you baby brother.

Before my mom died, on her death bed actually, she said she wanted me to have a brand new Jeep! A bit much I thought and I said so. After my mom died, my dad and I were looking at vehicles for me and we ended up finding the exact same one, the beautiful 2007 FJ Cruiser that I am driving now. We went and drove her and then we went right to the credit union, looking homeless as hell, both of us, and got her financed. That story is one of my fondest memories and Sherry was so happy the day I drove her home! My FJ is still financed and I own just under $6000 on her. I had Little Red sold on Friday for $3000. I was elated, as that put me halfway to paying her off. Thursday night I got a text from the guy I held Little Red for, for three weeks, that he could no longer buy her. Long story short, Little Red and my FJ are both here and neither one of them, nor Tamara’s Jeep are enough for what Santuario de Karuna needs. We have 42 animals here, several of them weighing in over 1500 pounds. Little Red, not Big Red, cannot handle the loads that we must haul to give everyone what they need. We need more and I was praying in this yesterday, when Sherry came through loud and clear.

Sherry simply said that “some gave all. All gave some and some gave all” she repeated to me. I was puzzled at first, I won’t lie. My dilemma, the one warping my fucking mind…the one I’m twisting and trying so desperately to make fit…she says simply, “it is what it is.” What in the literal fuck? I’m praying here! If you’ve no contribution, could you come back later? I need to figure out how to sell Little Red and pay of this FJ…..and she says, “You do not need to sell your truck Coral Dawn. You know what you need to do with Little Red.” Only I didn’t know and she didn’t tell me before she left again. What in the fuck?

As I drove closer to home, I remembered laying next to her on her death bed. I could not have known it then, that I would never hear the click of those heels 👠 or that twang in her voice again. I would never have her to help me to sort it out or pay it off again. I lost both of my lifelines and my own life that day, on that bed with her, before she left here for good. We had to make her funeral arrangements on that bed. We had to decide how to let her go because she was going and nothing stopped that. In lieu of flowers, my mom chose Santuario de Karuna, for all donations. My mom loved flowers as much as anyone I ever knew and she gave up her final bouquets on this earth for the animals here at Santuario de Karuna, so we could keep our promise to make the rest of their lives the best of their lives. On my moms deathbed, she saw me. My mom saw Tamara and I and our dream and on her way out, she did all she could to make this dream come true! Sherry gave it all. Every single last bit of it, to Santuario de Karuna, as she left this world. All she had left to offer is right here in this space that we all call home.

Today, in true Sherry fashion, I give all I’ve got to Santuario de Karuna too. Literally, the only thing I actually own, Little Red, I gift to our Sanctuary and to the animals here, to get them what they need. “Some gave all Coral Dawn. All gave some and some gave all. Follow your heart and do what you know to be right with your soul.”

Anyone who knows me at all knows that if all are giving some and only some are giving all, I am going to figure out how to be one of the ones who gives it all! So today, on behalf of my little brother Shawn and myself, I gift my precious Little Red to the fundraiser, so that we can purchase a truck big enough to care for everyone here. Whatever we make from the sale of Little Red will go directly into the fundraiser that our dear brother Chris put up for us. And so it is. Sherry reminds us that it is what it is. It will only ever, always be what it is. I don’t know what your “Some” is, or your “all”. I only came to tell you that by giving all I’ve got to give, I am beginning to find myself. I highly recommend giving all you’ve got! Thank you mom for the lesson, turned immediately blessing on my drive home to our beautiful Santuario yesterday…”Some gave all Coral Dawn. All gave some and some gave all…”

Happy Sunday everyone! Only you know what to do with the messages the angels send. Sherry reminds each of you, just the same as she reminded me…”Some gave all. All gave some and some gave all. For your own growth, for your own journey, be the one who gives it all!”

We each have the privilege and the opportunity to be of service. We have the ability to be in our community. We have the power to build up our community. We have an animal sanctuary right in our own backyard, literally! And we are all welcome here, Always, We are home here, aren’t we? We are in Sanctuary here. Why not be a part of the community? A true and literal part of something that you believe in? Volunteer. Donate. Share. Commit to $10 a month and be a sponsor. Check out our Facebook page and meet these amazing beings. Come out here and meet them. Help us feed them! For you…do this for you. I cannot tell you how glad I am that I do this!

If you would like to become a monthly donor, a one time donor , a volunteer or a visitor to our Sanctuary, we would love to hear from you! Right now, if you have the means, we would love for you to donate to the fundraiser that our brother Chris has set up right now, to get a new truck that will provide for all of the beautiful beings here. Check us out on Facebook and please donate and follow us! We would love to have you be a part of our compassionate community! All are welcome here!

Santuario de Karuna is on Facebook! I will do a separate post with the fundraiser link after I post this morning’s blog. Please help out if you can!

I love you! Have a beautiful Sunday everyone! Thank you for being in the healing room with Sherry and I this morning!

Done and fucking done and it feels so good!

Good morning everyone. I will be really honest with you this morning. I am not in a good space. My heart hurts. I am sick of fucking waking up like this. I am tired. My reality is what it is and my experience of it right now fucking sucks for me. That is who I write about…me. My experiences  and how I feel. I am not only hurting a lot, I am mending a lifetime of fucking abuse and delusion. Delusions of fucking grandeur and so it’s taking me a bit for it to all sink in.

I will begin by saying that I love my Dad and my little Brother more than you can possibly fucking imagine. I love my mom so much that I have spent three years in literal hell since her passing. My love for my family, the three of them, is unfucking matched. Probably fair to say that it’s been unhealthy, co-dependent and strained at times, with all three of them. My Mother is dead. My father is re-married and I am happy for him and for Cheryll. I won’t claim to know Cheryll, as we have only just met. Cheryll has been wonderful to me and kind to me during my body and my life falling apart. Cheryll is sorting through Sherry with my dad and she seems to make my Dad happy. Anyone who will sit with someone and help someone to sort through a lifetime of someone else’s things…anyone who will hold another through that is good in my book. I love Cheryll and I believe that Cheryll loves me. So, just to clear any misunderstanding up that may exist, I am not at war with my Dad. I do not dislike and never have disliked Cheryll. I love my little brother. I love my mom. I wasn’t not at my dads wedding because he was marrying someone other than my mom. I’m not sure where that load of horseshit came from…possibly and probably even, out of my fathers own mouth. Maybe that is how my dad heard it. Here is the truth, just to set things straight (and I never fucking do that);

My mom and dad and I journeyed very closely together for most of my adult life. The three of us just got along and enjoyed going to Vegas and happy hour and lunch and dinner. My mom made me choose between she and my Dad and my relationships with women, as they were not welcome (they, my lovers, partners, girlfriends) in our home. When they were, I had to promise that we were just friends. I choose my parents a lot more than I care to admit, over amazing women in my life simply because it didn’t feel like a choice at all. The choice had been made and unless I was willing to lie, they were not welcome. I honestly never did not choose my Mom, not until Tamara. I won’t lie, that was a bit strained too. My mom was often very unkind to me, and Tamara wasn’t silent about it like everyone before her. My mom respected Tamara for it and was only able to leave this world because Tamara had me. So, don’t hear me wrong…I love my mom. I always have and I always will. The woman was not kind to me. She was down right fucking mean to me and many of you know that because you witnessed it too. I do not love her any less but god damnit it hurts to love someone who hurt me so fucking deeply. It is hard to re-live Groundhog Day every fucking day. It fucking destroyed me and it still does, how that woman treated me and he contempt she often had for me. Do I love her just the same? You bet your sweet fucking ass that I do and I always will. My life though and my experience of my life…my life has always fucking hurt me.

So, with that being said, no one ever defended me. No one. Not my Dad. Not my little brother. Not my extended family. Not me, a lot of the time. When I did, it never ended well although it did end my mom talking to me at all, for days on end. I do not say this to dishonor my mom or my dad or my little brother or my family. I say this because it is my experience of my life, and my life has hurt me a lot. My blog is so fucking edited about my own life and I’m pretty done doing that. I still keep silent as to not say something bad or inappropriate about people. My truth may  hurt people and that is not my intent. In fact, let me just say now that I’ve no intent to hurt anyone or to dishonor my mom or my dad or my brother. I will however, not be silent. There could not be a person anywhere that has loved the three of them more than me. My mom knew that. My dad knows that. Shawn once knew that. I don’t know what Shawn knows about that anymore. As far as I know, They don’t read my blog, except my mom, who helps me to have the courage to write it, especially blogs like this where I speak MY truth even as my voice is fucking shaking. My dad and I and Cheryll and I and Shawn and I and JiSan and I are good, as far as I know. We are family by name and not in action, at least not the same action that “family” has always been in my life.

Since my mom died, so did Thanksgiving and Christmas. No one in our family called me up and invited me over for Thanksgiving dinner. No one. Nor Christmas. My Birthday was a big deal to my mom and without her, my Birthday has become void and painful. So, my family, dysfunctional as it may have been, that I have known and never really been a part of, for my entire fucking life is gone, with very few exceptions. Those exceptions are priceless and you know who you are and you are now my chosen family. Those of you who are family by blood or marriage, who have my same last name or don’t who have always loved me, I know who you are and you know who you are too, and I fucking love you. The rest of you, who call yourself family, who use that as some sort of fucking hold on me and do and have never done anything to love me like a verb or nurture me, here is a newsflash…you are not my family. Three years my mom has been gone and we’ve not celebrated a holiday since. You’ve not called me or reached out to me or loved me once…Sherry’s precious little daughter, since she fucking died. So, don’t bother. Truly, I am living with it and have been my whole life. Now you can live without it. I am done being “family” and not being family at all. I expect to see my “friends” list drop some more and I invite you to leave if you’ve never really been here at all anyway. I do not need the hurt of being where I am not wanted…where I do not belong and where I am not accepted. No hard feelings. No need to keep on keeping on at something that never was anyway.

I will write my story. You can read it or not. This is my blog, for me, for us all. I do not have any intention of harming anyone ever with what I write. I will not be silent anymore though. I will not pretend anymore. I will not attend funerals anymore of people who have been dead to me my whole life. I wish you all well. I really, really do. I also bid you farewell so that I may be Coral and not who all of you tried to shame me into being. Same thing with my “friends”…truly. If we aren’t, then we aren’t. If we are, then let’s be. This facade is killing my fucking soul and so I cut it loose and take this mask of.

My blog is my blog and my Facebook wall is my wall. I write and I post what I fucking want to post. If you don’t like it, don’t fucking look at it. Don’t come on my wall and fucking ridicule me for who and what I like. Fuck off man, truly…just fuck off. Have I ever come on to your page, ever, and spewed my shit?

Lady Gaga isn’t a fucking vegan! Distasteful and raw and uncouth. Meat suits and furs and no I’m not impressed. None of my fucking business to call the woman names because she isn’t me and doesn’t live as I do or see what I see. Lady Gaga is an amazing actress and an amazing song writer and musician and preformer. For all that she is not, there is much that she is. For all of you with your filthy words and judgement of her on my page, check yourself. Is your favorite musician vegan? Is your favorite actress vegan? Do you listen to the music of people who are not in alignment with your values? Do you drive a car? Do you have a laptop or a cell phone? If you answered  “yes” to any of these questions, then you’re not so vegan yourself. Live and let live. Go sweep your own side of the street and kind your own fucking business and stop trolling pages to start fucking controversy. Just shut the fuck up and go work in you. Lady Gaga doesn’t give a fuck what you think anyway. The woman is a human being, being human, just like you and me. Unlike many of us, she is doing something. Be the fucking change and stop trying to change others.

Am I upset? You bet your ass I’m upset. To live in a family, in a world with such potential, who refuses to embrace and love me for who I am…I am fucking devastated. I have been devastated for my whole fucking life by people who do not love me one fucking fraction of how much I love them. Love me like you fucking mean it, like a verb, or please step away from me and let me find my tribe. If you are not my tribe, please step aside, stand down…move over…get the fuck out of the way, because I’ve big work to do. Making me small did not make you big and it did not make me small either. You have no idea what greatness I am, what greatness I have always fucking been.

This is the last moment that I associate myself with anyone who does not treat me like someone. Your hatefulness and emptiness and bitterness…your blame and your unaccountability…your abusiveness and dismissiveness…your lies and your inadequacy in the face of your own mirror…you deal with yours and I’ll deal with mine. And so it is.

As always, I write to heal myself and I take what I need and leave the rest, as I encourage you to do the same.

My closing prayer;

Thank you for the lessons as they become obvious blessings. Thank you for my Dad and please help me to release my expectations of the past of him, that we may find our new path forward together in love and light…in honesty and truth…as Daddy’s girl for always. Please continue to guide my love and my path with Cheryll. Please always keep my little brother safe and content. Please bless JiSan and let her feel my love. Please help me to be discerning when assembling my tribe. Please let me be forgiving as all things not for my highest good fall away from me. Please allow me only the option of being kind as I release my need to be right. Please bless everyone in loving abundance for their place on my journey. Please show me the way and lead me out of the darkness and into the light. As those who no longer belong here fall away and leave my space, please protect my heart, and give me comfort in knowing that it is time. Please give them comfort and protect their hearts also. Please remind me that it is the quality and not the quantity of the people and the things in my life that matter. Please use me as an instrument to do your work and speak your word, even when and especially when my voice shakes. May I always, in always be in abundant and heartfelt gratitude. As abundance unfolds around me and the past falls away from me, I step forward for my assignment. I come forth and I thank you for bringing me to this place. Please always protect Tamara and our tribe, our animals and the land and beings we guardian for you. Please keep the Sanctuary in sanctity and peace at all times and protect those who enter and reside here, that it always, in all ways be protected as sacred land and treated as such. And so it is, in your name. Amen.

Random thoughts and Happy Father’s Day!

Good morning everyone! Happy Father’s Day to all of you Dad’s out there! To all of the amazing Dad’s and the not so amazing Dad’s…Happy Father’s Day to all of the shitty Dad’s who really tried…to the Dad’s in heaven…Father’s Day is for all Dad’s, not just the trophy Dad’s, right? I mean, there was a time that I would have disputed that. I would have told you that I thought it was a privilege to be a Dad. If you don’t take that “privilege” seriously, then you don’t deserve the title. Who the fuck was I? I was ignorant. I had an opinion that seemed more like a fact to me. I stand corrected. I mean, it really isn’t my business and it never was my business. I am finding that to be true lately, and how liberating for me, not to have to worry about things that are not my business.

I also have come to realize that being “good” at something is subjective. The simple fact that I, or anyone else, deem you unworthy, unfit or good at something, isn’t ours to decide. You know if you’re a “good” Dad, don’t youI You know if you’re a “good” and kind and just person, don’t you? Truth is, this is the only knowing that you really must concern yourself with…your knowing. You must go to sleep every night with what you know and you must wake every morning with that same knowing. You occupy a space that no one else can occupy…and what you do in that space is yours and yours alone. I cannot wish for you enough, what is not already within you, and neither can anyone else. Some random, not random at all thoughts this morning.

I often have thoughts that I don’t like to release until I am able to diffuse them, or take the venom out, so to speak. Things that hurt me deeply are often more difficult to diffuse. I am a work in progress and I am doing my best. I only know that how I feel today is not how I want to feel today. I am not ready, may never be ready, to talk about that. I am, through prayer and meditation, self reflection and awareness, trying to find some peace and some balance for myself. I will be honest, today is not that day for me and I will suffice to leave it at that for now.

With all of that being said, Happy Father’s Day to those who celebrate their Father’s on this day and to the Father’s being celebrated today! Happy Father’s Day to my Dad today!

On another note, Happy Sunday to everyone else this morning! I am sorry my blog posting has been so sporadic. I have had some rough days through this surgery. Not to worry though, I will be back soon enough! I love you! Have a wonderful day everyone! Happy Father’s Day!

Let me see what you’ve got this morning!

Good morning everyone! Couldn’t help it, woke up to My Christmas music for this morning’s meditation. As I sit in this healing room, I light up all of those candles for us all. Sitting in the glow and basking in the love, listening to the hum of this song..I swear to God, I am feeling the healing! I feel my Mom stroking my face and wiping all of these tears from my face. Sitting right next to my Mom, with all of this love in my heart, I ask her to hit me with all of the love she can, so I can bring it here for all of us. Fill me and overfill me, I tell her, and then add some more please. I need all I can carry. I need help carrying all of it. Let’s deck the halls in here, shall we? Let’s all take a moment this morning and visualize being in Christmas Eve service together…let’s hold hands and sing together…let’s love each other more than we have ever loved each other before. As open as we can be, as wide open as we can possibly be…let that love in you guys! I bring the one thing in that opened my Mom…Christmas, to illuminate the way for us this morning. We all have different memories and I’ll just ask you to pick your very best memory right now…your very best one, from your whole life.

As always, everyone go out there and take the time you need. Go find your very best memory and maybe even a song that goes with that memory, and bring it back to circle when you’re done. I know we all have at least one, and I want to emphasize, I want your very best one. A memory that nothing in this life has tainted, at all. Your moment…the one you’ve tucked away, so worn out that it’s fragility is somewhat concerning to you. That’s the one! The one you just grabbed that brought a childlike smile across your face…bring that one back to circle with you now.

Okay…looks like everyone is back, and look at these awesome treasures! Truly, beneath the dust and years, look at that sparkle! Dull as fuck and needing a good polishing…these are some relics here my friends! These are some beauties! Go ahead, lick your fingertip And write your name in the dust. Look at that shine in those letters! Look at your name, light up like a marquee! Fucking beautiful you guys! These are some glorious treasures!

Today, we begin, each of us, with our most precious memory. I have mine. It just so happens to be Christmas with my Mom and Dad and little brother…my Moms Mom and Dad are sitting around the tree, in front of the fire, waiting for Shawn and I to come out and see what Santa left for us. As we round the corner from the hall, peeking into the den, I can feel the softness of the lights. I feel the all of the anticipation of my little heart, just about to explode, from the excitement of it all. I have my little brothers hand in my hand. I smell the coffee and all of the baked goods my Mom bakes every year, in the background. My little pink ball, illuminated by a single light and my little Brother…my Mom and my Dad and my Mamma and my Pappa…everything I in the whole world that meant everything to me…all right here with me…and hey, that was Christmas to me…dusting it off and singing along, allowing the tears to flow freely and washing off the stains of the years with them, I polish this memory. Spit and shine…I want this one lit up perfectly! This is the one…the memory that stopped my beating heart for a moment this morning…this is the good stuff. This morning, that is all we are interested in…all we are looking at and all we are taking with us out into our day today…the good stuff!

Let’s see yours! Look at that sparkle! This is the time to commit to never letting anyone or anything, ever, dull your sparkle again. These are our treasures! No one can ever take them from us. We just shared them and look how they multiply. Look at the soft and reflective smiles on everyone’s faces, the soft tears and everyone’s favorite Christmas song in cue, to play next…tell me, which song is yours? These are some great songs, also bringing more good memories…let’s turn the music up and sit around this campfire together. Grab your cup of coffee and your blanket and come sit by me. I don’t know why, but I want to hold your hand…is that okay? Just for this moment, can we just have a huge ass slumber party? Can we all just please stay here, in this glorious moment together, for just a few moments more?

Yes. Yes, we can stay here, as long as we like. Work will wait. Your spouse and your kids will wait. The dogs, not patiently, and they will wait too. Just let it all sit there for a few minutes, while you revel in your good stuff. It may or may not be Christmas and this moment may have been hard for you to come by this morning, so you’re okay to stay here a moment more.

Look around you. What do you see and how does it make you feel? That sliver of a smile and that glimmer of hope, that is all we need, to keep this fire going. Pass it on…one of my favorite songs from campfire as a kid…Pass it on…

It only takes a spark to get a fire going

And soon all those around can warm up to its glowing

That’s how it is with God’s love

Once you’ve experienced it

You spread your love to everyone

You want to pass it on

What a wondrous time is spring when all the trees are budding

The birds begin to sing, the flowers start their blooming

That’s how it is with God’s love

Once you’ve experienced it

You want to sing, it’s fresh like spring

You want to pass it on

I wish for you my friend, this happiness that I’ve found

You can come join in, it matters not where you’re bound

I’ll shout it from the mountain tops

I want the world to know

The joy of friends has come to me

I want to pass it on

Pass It On Kurt Kaiser 1969 EMI Christian Music Group

It only takes a spark, to keep a fire going. Look at all of these sparks…look at all of these master fire tenders…who brought the stuff for s’mores? A around you at all of this love. Feel all of us, in our best memories, with Christmas music and old country music playing gently and wafting through the air between us…wait, is that your song? How did I know that you picked that one? Great choice and one of my favorites as well!

Look at us! Would you just look at us! Healing and smiling and loving each other. This is our healing room and this is how we heal. We heal by being broken so that we may be open to being mended. We fall here, in this safe place, so that we can go out there and rise where we are needed! We break and fall apart…our guts spill all around us, so that we can observe, all of us, inside out, look pretty much the same, don’t we?

For today, I challenge you, to live inside out. All day, no masks, no facades…no bullshit…just you. No sarcasm and no petty bullshit…today, you are mindful, so fucking mindful, that we are here to walk each other home. No blame and no judgement…no anger and no fear…today, we bring Christmas morning with us out of this healing space and we share with our world. I know this sounds crazy, but I challenge you to take this moment with you, all day today. I want you to stop what you are doing right now and play your favorite Christmas song…your all time favorite, best one. Even better, go to my FB timeline, and just tag me…with your very favorite Christmas song…let’s keep this going today…no words unless you want to, and you don’t have to share. If you want to though, I would love for my wall to blow up with your favorite Christmas tunes all day long today! That’s Christmas to me…today, is our day and we can do what we want! I want to hear your favorite Christmas music flooding my timeline…and go!!!!

Merry Christmas everyone!

Time to do some laundry…

Good morning everyone! Happy Monday! I hope you had a fabulous Mothers Day yesterday with your Moms.

I was in surreal space yesterday. Physically, my pain was horrible yesterday…toppping my pain chart. Every move was excruciating and it took everything in me to keep one foot in front of the other. This pain is pain I’ve never had and so prolonged that I am fatigued and exhausted and irritable. Everything just fucking hurts. I woke up this morning in a similar space and I feel a little defeated…a lot run down and mentally fucking racked and fatigued.

All of my efforts to stay positive and upbeat paid off, and yet inside, I feel like a crushed and shattered fucking mess. I know my Mom is gone. I know my Mom isn’t coming back here, and yet my heart constantly searches. My soul aches. Tears fell on the inside yesterday…a steady flow, all day, and into the night, on Mothers Day without my Mom.

I cannot really find a way to express this pain, other than through my words. I could never have imagined pain like this…despair and hopelessness like this. What do we do without our Moms? How do we go on without our Moms? When the coffee cup sitting next to ours on the table is full and our cup is in desperate need of refill…when conversation must be in our heads now, so we don’t look bat shit crazy in public, talking to our Moms. I’ve gotten over that…what other people think of me talking to my Mom in public…I don’t give a shit anymore. Talking to my Mom is more important than how it looks to people I don’t even fucking know.

Mothers Day ends it for me for a while. I have some reprieve for a while, from the holidays and my entire family’s Birthdays, one stacked on top of the other. I have some time to sit in some happy and come in out of this pain a bit.

I didn’t hear from my Dad yesterday. I guess it’s Mothers Day, not Fathers Day. I get that. I also get that, for the first time in 44 years on Mother’s Day, my Mom and my Dad have left the building. I really, really got that yesterday, and I wept.

I don’t know how to share my feelings about this, without coming across like a spoiled little brat. I just cannot wrap around everything I’ve ever known just being wiped the fuck out. My Mom had no choice…she had to go, and I do get that. I really, really do. My Dad though…I have never been so far away and absent and estranged from my father, who still has a choice, and doesn’t choose me anymore, doesn’t see me or reach out for me on these days anymore. So, for me, yesterday, was the hurt of a lot more than just missing my Mom…and today, it’s like an emotional hangover from a night of excessive binge drinking and doing shots of emotional trauma, only to wake up less settled than I went to sleep, more hurt than I know what to do with.

I gave my Dad away when he got remarried a couple of weeks ago. I set him free. I mean, he had already left…I just gave him my blessing. I meant it, I really did. I just haven’t mastered how to do that just yet, with my whole heart. Part of my little heart must still be hanging on. Part of me still wants to hold on to a part of him that doesn’t exist anymore. Part of me will always need my Daddy and I guess yesterday was one of those days…one of those hurts, too deep to rise above entirely.

And…that’s enough of that for today…that’s just where I go sometimes. I don’t want to go there and yet I find myself there, unable to get out, unable to rise above a pain so deep that it literally engulfs me and consumes me. Pain that sucks me in like a vacuum and spits me out like a battered and broken throw away, tossed into the heap with the others, who landed here with me.

Do you want out of that heap? I mean do you know that you don’t have to stay here in this pile of dirty, unseperated laundry? Dingy and dirty, stained and with skid marks, all lying on top of us and right next to us…spilling the stench onto us. Us spilling our stench onto them. We do not have to lie in this shit anymore. We can sort ourselves out, and we can get clean.

It really isn’t the getting clean is it? Isn’t it the sorting ourselves out and staying clean that slap us across our proverbial faces? I know, for me, staying out of the the pain…well some days, I just can’t.

So, with that, I am signing off. I hope you all have a wonderful day! I am off with Pranja for suture removal and her post op visit, and then to visit her best friend, the woman who saved her.

Pranja sure as hell isnt going to stay in this heap of unsorted and dirty fucking laundry that she landed in. I’m going to go with Pranja today and liberate myself from a pile that I obviously still need to do some sorting and cleaning and purging through.

Happy Monday everyone! Go sort some dirty laundry, shall we?

Introducing Mr. and Mrs. Fred W. Ricketts…

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Good morning! I’m still standing!! Yesterday did not kill me and I already feel stronger! I also feel exhausted completely run over and so I write to fuel my journey.

Morning reminder that this is my blog. There are many blogs like it. This blog is mine. I write to heal myself and I write to get it all out. I am not here to hurt anyone and I’m not here to be hurt by anyone anymore. My truth is hard. My journey is treacherous. My words are hard to read. I’m glad you are here and I thank you for your love and support, as I find my way. If you are not here in love and support, please leave.

My one time offer of clearing every ounce of space, of opening my schedule and my heart and my energy for your calls…that was a full and busy day. I was on my phone literally all day, and I am grateful. I was healing all day and I am blessed. I also know what it takes to make those calls and so if you just couldn’t yesterday, I’m not too hard to find. I won’t shun you or be mean to you or ignore you…You just have to make the call. I will make the time.

I am finding that I haven’t been really known by many people. I don’t know why…I mean, I am not elusive on purpose. I have always been a pretty open book. Anyway, just something I noticed yesterday, people don’t know me. People I’ve “known” my whole life…I don’t really know them either.

I have blogged a lot about my Dad. I love my Dad. I have always loved my Dad. Anyone who really knows Coral knows that I love my Dad with all of my heart. My Daddy has been my hero and my confidant. My Dad has been my friend and my teacher. My Dad was my lunch date, he is the soul survivor of all I ever knew of my parents…my Mom and Dad. My Dad taught me to build. My Dad taught me to drive. My Dad, for 42 years, was a sure and steady, true and reliable place to be. My spelling bee coach and my mentor…my taxi and my disciplinarian. My Dad and I go WAY back.

I have re-read my blogs, just because of a shitty text I received about how I slapped my Dad in the face on Facebook. I can’t find it anywhere…where I slapped my Dad, where I hurt my Dad or where I was unkind to my Dad. I just don’t see anything anywhere that speaks ill of the man who I have wanted to be just like for my entire life.

My Dad does not read my blog. My Dad lives my fucking blog. Tamara lives my blog. My Dad and Tamara need a break from my blog, from me and what I carry, so the two people I love the most, they are not regular readers or Facebook followers of Coral. If I post a blog that I want them to hear, whether they want to or not, I read it to them…both of them. I have never said anything about my Dad, on my blog, or otherwise, that I haven’t said or won’t say to my Dad. There is nothing you have seen that he can’t see himself, if he chooses to see it. Today’s blog is dedicated to my Dad…today, I write a letter to my Dad, that I will have to email him, because he does not read my blog.

Dear Dad,

Congratulations to you and Mrs. Cheryll Ricketts! I am so glad that you found someone to share your life with you. I really am.

I know that you know my heart. I know that you also know my mouth. Often, they don’t go hand in hand. You and I…we have had some hard, hard conversations since August. We have said some harsh things to one another and we have been hurt and angry and wrong. You know about my blog, that I write to heal, to get it all out. You said you were proud of me for my blog and I told you that Mom is helping me to speak my truth. I write about you in my blog. Nothing I haven’t said to you already, just my way of sorting it all out. I know you don’t read it…why would you? You live it, don’t you? Anyway, it’s always there of you want to read it and it will be there if you don’t want to read it. I just wanted you to know that I write what I write for me, never against you, or anyone else. I know you already know that…I just want you to know it again, from my heart.

I want to say thank you for allowing me my time and space to try to process and sort all of this out. I’m not there yet, and yet I am getting there because you are allowing me to speak my truth, the really hard stuff, whatever I need to say, with your blessing, without editing or correcting me. Thank you for that.

I know, with all of my heart, that you and Mom didn’t know what was happening to me, that you could not, as most people cannot, fathom something so awful. You could not know and I know that. I’ve no blame…no anger or resentment toward you or Mom. You should know that. Everyone should know that. I do not and never have blamed my Mom and Dad for the sins of someone else.

On August 16th, when you told me you wanted to start dating, I wasn’t ready for that. I guess, to be honest, I would never have been ready to hear that, from you, my Mom and Dad.

Today, I release you from that title…the title of “Mom and Dad”. I even release you from the burdens of the title “Dad” brings, so that you can just “Be” Fred. I have known you one way and I’m going to have to get to know you another way…I know that. My distance…distance training you could call it, has been for me to reset, for me to recalibrate and fall apart, so that I could come back new.

I have been sitting in our den, losing my Mom since 12:06 pm on December 3, 2015. The moment that Moms heart stopped beating , the moment she surged out of her body, I lost track of her. I have desperately been seeking her ever since, and I found her in you.

I want you to know that I’m sorry, for placing that burden and all of that responsibility on you. I put more expectation, disguised as hope, on you, unknowingly, after Mom left.

Mom held us together and when she left, we fell apart. Mom told us what to do and when she didn’t anymore, we simply did not know what to do. Mom was the boss and without her, we all went a little crazy, didn’t we?

For your wedding, I did not get you a card. I did not buy you a gift. I didn’t even show up, did I? Actually, I did…I was there in spirit, with my whole heart, but you already felt that didn’t you? My not showing up was one of the greatest gifts that I had to offer you…keeping your day, YOUR day, and not showing up and falling apart and making your wedding day about me. I know you already opened that gift and I know it had shitty wrapping and that it doesn’t match anything you have (the gift of doing what is truly best for you), it looks good on you. You should wear some more of that…it’s a good look on you for sure.

My next gift, a gift that you and Mom have begged me for, harped on me and beaten me over the head with for years…to get right with Shawn… forgive Shawn. We are working on it…we really are. Some of your behavior has forced us back into one another’s lives, so I thank you. I won’t lie, I was not fucking pleased, at all, and yet, things happened just as they “should” and the only way they could.

The gift I am most excited for you to open, really isn’t your gift at all. Aren’t those gifts really the best kind anyway? This is a gift for all of us actually, so it is for you, not JUST for you…

Dear Cheryll,

Congratulations on you wedding to the most amazing man I have ever known! Truly, Fred and I go way back and he’s a keeper. I have watched him love a woman with everything in him, for my whole life. I have watched my Dad honor his vows. I have lived through the better and the worse, the sickness and the health. I am living through and trying to navigate, the til death do we part. Part.

I was not ready for my Mom to die. I truly never thought my Mom would die. My entire life, my being, my spirit and my soul…they got all shaken up and tossed about and I’ve not quite landed yet. Thank you for giving me space to find my footing before we formally meet one another. Thank you for accepting that I just couldn’t do what I couldn’t do and couldn’t be where I needed to be…thank you for not forcing my hand…for just giving me the time and space to figure this all out.

My Dad cannot stop talking about you. Not since week two, has my Dad talked about much of anyone else, not even me, and that stung me a bit. I was a coddled and over protected child and I fought letting go of my Mom and Dad. I fought when my Mom died and I fought again when my Dad found you…I fought losing everything. I felt I lost everything and everyone dear to me and so I fought to hold on.

I thank you for honoring my process and my journey. I truly cannot tell you how important it has been for me to emerge on my own, to come to this place in my own time. Thank you for understanding and honoring that. You and my Dad have known my heart and that is all I could hope for…thank you.

I could not be present to give my Dad away, and I thank you for your kind words of understanding about my absence. I come forth to give my Dad to you now. I take his hand out of my hand and I place his hand in your hand, where it belongs.

I wish you both happiness and health. I wish you many years of retirement form a work force that consumed you, to travel and laugh and just be…just be happy…to just be together.

My Dad has made me aware that my favorite word is your least favorite word and I will be mindful. I will be mindful. I will be mindful.

Announcing Mr. and Mrs. Fred Ricketts. My happy Father and my new step-mom…Congratulations to the both of you and thank you for honoring me and my journey and for allowing me what I need to emerge happy and whole.

Happy Tuesday everyone! Love, love, love for your journey and let us never forget that we are just walking each other home.

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What happened to my life?

Good morning! I hope you are having a beautiful Sunday so far!

I am in an odd head space this morning. I miss my Mom. I miss my family. I miss my friends. I miss me. I can’t help but wonder what In the fuck happened to my life?

I don’t intend to stay in this space too long, although I will sit here a spell and allow myself my emotions and my release.

I wouldn’t change my life or where I’m at for anything in the world. I would not like a do over. I don’t wish I could go back in time and do things differently. I do not have regrets. I wouldn’t bring my Mom back, as I know she is free. Today I just feel sad for all that I have lost.

Today, cancer makes me angry, for all that it’s taken from me. Fuck…for all that it’s still taking from me. I just feel sad to think that cancer took my Mom before I even knew what hit me.

The moment the word “cancer” was spoken…the word brain tumor and metastasis to the liver, the lungs, the brain…inoperable, stage four breast cancer…radiation. MD Anderson, chemotherapy…antibodies…in that moment, all other moments ceased to exist at all.

In that moment, I realized that our moments were limited. I don’t know I had less than 60 days left with my Mom.

I went into caregiver mode and I put me somewhere else, so that I could carry my Mom through this…so that I could carry her home, just as she carried me here in the first place.

I stayed in caregiver mode after my Mom passed away, so that I could care for my Dad. I cooked and cleaned and organized. I made myself available 24-7 and my ringer was never off. I thought it was what I was supposed to do, and so I did it.

I also love my Dad very much and I wanted to help him, if there was any way at all that I could. I did my best. We had lunch every week and visited my Mom afterwards. I visited as often as I could between clients, bringing his favorite rebel donuts for a treat and #9 Golden Pride for breakfast…meeting every chance I had for coffee, for a quick visit between clients.

And then one day, everything changed with my Dad too. Apparently in all of his pain, he was looking for ways to live again. Unbeknownst to me, he was moving on. I mean, as he well should…I just had no idea…none at all.

I showed up for our normal weekly lunch date and he told me he wanted to start dating. I will never forget this day, as it was my Mom and Dads wedding Anniversary, a day I always celebrated with my Mom and Dad.

On this day, my world changed and will never be the same again. My Dad is getting married next month.

I haven’t said anything. I didn’t feel it was mine to say and so I waited for something to be said. I tried my best to be supportive and show up…even offered to officiate with my Uncle…And then I cried and I cried and I fucking cried some more. I have been crying a lot, to be honest.

The life that I knew for 42 years was completely uprooted when my Mom was diagnosed and after she passed away. I held onto my Dad and my Dad held on to me.

Shawn and I are very distant and my extended family, with one or two, maybe three exceptions, has completely disappeared from my life since my Mom died.

I just woke up one day and it was all gone…everything I knew, for a lifetime…it was all fucking gone.

I sit here this morning feeling the enormity of what I have lost and I cannot even fucking breathe. I feel like I’ve got to put all of this somewhere else, so I can continue to function, and so that is what I have done.

I come to all of you, every morning, to offer my love and my inspiration, as best as I can. I held this because I felt it wasn’t mine to share. I held this, like I’ve held my whole fucking life and you want to know what? I am tired of holding for others.

In this case, I wasn’t asked to not say anything…I guess I just could not speak of it, except to a few of you, who reached for me.

I want to be clear that I wish my Dad and his new bride all of the happiness the world has to offer them. I want my Dad to enjoy his life and I am happy for my Dad. I am not hurt for Fred. I am hurt for Coral.

I write to heal myself and so I’m writing of my experience and how I am impacted…how I am derailed…how my heart is broken…I do not speak ill of my Father…I just speak real, as to how this is affecting me. I am finally able to speak about what has been hurting me so deeply since August.

So, for those of you wondering…I am hurting, a lot. I have been hurting a lot, since October 1, 2015, as this day marks the day that my world, as I have always known it, began to unravel.

My public admittance of the incest in my family, pretty much cleared out the rest of my family. I did not receive one phone call, one message….from anyone in my entire family, since I told my story after 44 years. I have not heard from anyone that I am related to since I spoke her name. Not one person, related to me, who has known me for my entire lifetime, called me to see if I am ok, after I publicly admitted what their sister did to me.

My family, the family that my Mom loved so much….they all disappeared with my Mom. Our last family trip to Houston before my Mom died…that was my last family trip ever. To be really honest with you…I’ve no fucking idea what to do with this….what do I do with all of this fucking pain?

And where the fuck did everybody go? I look around and there is hardly anyone left of the life I used to know. I never saw this coming…not in a million years, did I ever see a day where my family would cease to exist.

My parents each have 5 siblings…all living, except for my Mom. Where in the fuck did my family go? In the most difficult and painful and scary times of my life…I had a family…I had a fucking family.

I have held this in for so long that the tears flooding out of my eyes, actually are not for the loss of my Mom…these tears are for the loss of everything else.

So, there you have it…what has been eating away at little Coral. My life has been eating away at me. All that I thought I knew, I no longer know. All of the bites taken out of Coral are finally leaving some holes in Coral. With all of these holes, I am finding it very difficult to stay a float.

Today, the overwhelm of the past and the fear of the future…the overwhelming loss and sadness…well, it is all just a bit much for me today.

I do believe in the good things coming. Lucky for me, I’ve plenty of room for all of those good things, due to everyone who left and cleared this space. My space for good things is wide open now!!!

I have a beautiful life and I have the most amazing partner, and I am fucking blessed. We have the most beautiful home and are stewards to the most amazing piece of land. We are guardians to the most  amazing beings you will ever meet.

I let her be her and she lets me be me and we have each other, no matter what…and that’s some good stuff!!

I need to blog about the hard stuff too. I need to talk about the stuff we aren’t supposed to talk about. I need to matter and if I don’t matter, I need to go.

How I made it here, I’ve absolutely no idea. How my body didn’t break beyond repair and how my spirit didn’t get crushed.

I know that I am love. I know that I love deeply. I have come to know that many I thought were love, were not love. I love like a verb and I want to be loved like a verb.

I don’t mind the hard stuff and I take my fair share…right now though…on this day, in this moment, I sure could use some easy…

Am I happy for my Dad? Of course I am. I have never wanted anything less for him. My sadness comes because I am no longer part of his happy.

Do I miss my family? I do miss a few of you…a lot. I know that you know who you are…the ones who I miss…probably the same ones of you that miss me. I think, though, that what I really miss is my idea of what my family was. I miss what my Mom wanted her family to be, who she saw her family to be. I miss that because that is the only family I have ever known.

What in the fuck happened to my life? Where did everybody go?

My life is just beginning. Nobody left who still wants to be here.

So I am okay…not ok. I am hurt and sad and disappointed, in the past. I am Leary of and frightened about my health, in the future. As Tamara so gracefully just pointed out, I should read the shirt I am wearing, that says “Be Here Now” Nahko.

I am going to go and do that now…Be Here Now. Happy Sunday everyone. I release all negative thoughts and feelings, fear and animosity back to the universe, to be recycled for the greater good of us all.

I am so sorry we are hurt people…

Sleepless and restless and tired of being tired…that is how I am feeling.

Honoring my commitment to getting it all out and writing every day and praying for humility to get to a place where that’s all my writing is…nothing more or less, no ego…no hope or expectation…just my release, my story, as I see it. This is where I see myself and yet, sometimes, I feel expectation and hope creep in. I pray for that to go…I write to heal.

I have such a tight fucking hold on everything…everything. My body is literally clamped shut in fight or flight mode. My body is trying desperately to protect me from violent attacks that are not even happening to me right now. My body cannot tell the difference and things from my past feel like they are right here, right now.

I lie here desperately praying for true surrender, begging for the ability to just let go…squirming around in pain, because inherently, I don’t know how to do this. I pray for peace, because I cannot find it. I pray for guidance because I am lost. I pray to remember to breathe, because I literally forget to breathe when I am in the worst pain…when I need to breathe the most.

I feel tremendous progress and then I come crashing and thrashing and flailing and slamming into the ground. I realize that my need to control is slamming me into submission. Over and over and over again…I go through this monotonous routine and over and over and over again, this routine has the same results. Being slammed into submission has taken a toll on my body, as that is not the natural way of things.

Resistance to all things…complete lockdown…petrifying fear in this moment about things in distant previous moments. A burning need and want and desire to be heard, causing a barrage of words, falling upon deaf ears. Seemingly a hell of my own creation, this need to control things now, because I was stripped of my ability to do so in my formative years.

My belief that if I hold on long enough and tight enough, I will be able to eventually get a handle on it. Squeezing my eyes shut so hard so I cannot see the attack coming…these are but a few of my daily experiences.

Wow, thank you Sam, for all of that. You put words so nicely to all of the feelings you are having. You are so brave to share all of your feelings, even the really hard feelings, with everyone. Sharing with people you don’t know and probably with a lot of people that you do know…sharing with people you have hidden from for years…I just want to tell you how proud I am of you, how brave I think you are and how honored I am to be a part of you. Thank you Sam. Thank you Sam I am.

As much as I do write in an effort to heal us all, right now, I just write in humble prayer for peace to come…true and everlasting, deep and sustaining…honest and true, peace. Peace that passes understanding…I pray for peace.

I acknowledge my need to feel like I am in control of some things, because I have been in control of so little in my life this far. I pray to release control. I realize that control is fear and not really control at all. I pray to not be afraid, to not be in fear and to accept at a cellular level that control really is fear. I release my need for control, thereby releasing all residual fear, whether I am aware of it or not. Let go and let God…I pray for this ability…Sam and Coral just want to let go…

I pray for humility…humbleness, a low view of my own self importance. I pray, with all of my heart, for humility.

I accept that I do not want to hold stuff for other people anymore and I allow myself not to hold stuff that is not mine. I have set so much down and I just realized last night that I am still holding so much. I pray for the universe to offload what I’ve been unable to set down and to remove the piles I have set down, to be recycled for the greater good of us all.

I pray that in the areas of my life where I have been faking it until I make it, that those efforts become genuine second nature, where they serve my highest good and the highest good of all involved.

I pray for the ability to just be fucking happy. I am talking truly, heart center, soul centered and overflowing with abundance happiness. I pray for the willingness to just be fucking happy for others, all others, especially the ones I’m having the most difficulty being happy for because I am not being humble, because I am being selfish.

I pray for the ability to just shut the fuck up. I speak because I feel that what I have to say is important and I accept that when my words are obviously falling on deaf ears, I must shut the fuck up. I know that it really is this simple and yet, I find myself talking more, to people who cannot or do not want to hear me. I pray for the ability and the humility and the knowing of when to just shut the fuck up.

I have tried and tried and been unable to offer my true and sincere happiness to my father. I do not and have not withheld my happiness for him or from anyone else on purpose, and yet I have withheld happiness from others. I pray for the heartfelt and sincere ability to let my needs, wants and expectations go and to accept that my Dad does truly know what is best for himself. You truly do know what is best for yourself.

God, grant me the serenity to accept the things I cannot change, courage to change the things I can and the wisdom to know the difference.

It only took me 1045 words to get to the serenity prayer. All I really need is the serenity prayer. Please God, help me to feel this and know this and accept this with all of my heart.

I realize that my life has become unmanageable. I realize that my life has become unmanageable because I am trying to manage what is not mine to manage.

I realize that my disappointments are because of my expectations. I do not mean to have expectations and yet, I am fucking full of expectation. I pray for a true and sincere release of all expectation.

I have cut people with my tongue, with far more damaging and lethal results than a cut from a serrated blade. Hurt people hurt people. The hurt inflicted upon me, the words said to me throughout my lifetime, have sharpened my tongue like a mother fucking sword. I do not use this sword often and I never mean to use this sword to inflict pain, and yet I do, inflict pain, with my words. I pray for the ability to just set this sword down and to not pick it up again. I pray for forgiveness for anyone I have ever cut, intentionally or unintentionally, knowingly or unknowingly, with the sword that is my tongue. I pray for forgiveness for myself, true forgiveness…forgivenesses that I would unconditionally offer to anyone else, I pray for this forgiveness for myself also.

I publicly apologize to anyone that my truth and the way that I see things hurts, as this truly is not my intent. I write to heal me and never to hurt you or anyone else. I write to speak my truth and accept that my truth is not the truth of everyone else. I pray for the humility to realize and know this at a cellular level. My truth, as I see it, is imperative for my healing. I make no apology for that. I do apologize if my truth and the way I see it had been inflicive to you. I apologize if I have been so convicted in my truth that I was unable to see your truth. I realize that there are always three sides to every story…yours, mine and the truth. My truth is important to me. I pray for the humility to accept that your truth is just as important to you.

I have publicly called out illness and incest, alcoholism and emotional abuse in my family. I realize that by doing so, people have been hurt. People are getting hit in the crossfire and people are wounded, directly and indirectly. I will not be silent about my abuse. I do realize that my story is a lot to hear and that it seems too horrible to be true. Believe me, I get that…every doctor I see, I get that…it’s a bit too much.

If my story is too much for you, don’t read it. Truly, if this isn’t good for you, set it down. I write to heal. If my writing hurts you and you can’t digest it, don’t read it.

To all of my family, my blood family, that are hurt by my words, I truly am sorry that we are such a hurt people. I truly am sorry that we come from a place of such hurt and violence and ignorance. I am even more sorry for the people that we have hurt because we are hurt people.

All I have ever known my entire life, as “family”,  has been you. All I’ve known of the way things “should” and “should not” be, how to live and love and grow and show up out in the world, I learned from all of you, my “family”.  I learned how to treat people by watching how you treated people, by watching how you treated me. I only knew what I knew and sadly, what I knew was a horror that knew no bounds.

If you are my “family” and you hurt me, you know who you are. You know what you did. You know what you said. I’m not here to call all of that up right now. I am here to say that I was a child, a small and troubled child and no one helped me. Some of you have children, grand children, great grandchildren…in this family of alcoholism and incest and dysfunction…make sure you are watching them, listening to them, protecting them.

I do not hate or disown my blood family. I do not blanket my experience to include everyone. I will say again, if you hurt me, if you are part of what I’ve spent my whole fucking life trying to heal, you know who you are…everyone else, you know who you are. For me, for now, it is that simple…I am on a mission to heal, to stop this cycle, in this family, of this unspoken of abuse that spans generations.

Healthy Adults do not have sex with children. Healthy Adults do not make children do things that hurt them and make them uncomfortable and scared and sad and ashamed. Healthy Adults do not use submission to get children to conform. Healthy Adults do not use fear tactics to inflict their views and opinions, wants and desires upon others. Healthy Adults let healthy children be children. Healthy Adults let dogs be dogs and people be people and value all lives the same…dogs and children. I do not come from healthy adult people.

So, to my family that is hurt and or offended…maybe there is a reason. Maybe we could all look at that…I lost my Mom, the most important person in my life. Many of you showed up to help us bury her, to honor what most people knew of Sherry’s life. There are secrets, of which I’ve absolutely no doubt, buried in that grave with her. Those secrets were Sherry’s and Sherry’s alone and Sherry chose to literally take those secrets to her grave. I am Sherry’s daughter…I am not Sherry. I will not take these secrets to my grave. I will sooner be taken to my grave for speaking these secrets than I will be taking them to my grave with me when I go.

So, do I hate my family? I do not hate my family. Do I disown my family? I do not disown my entire family, just the “family” that has abused me. Does my family hate me? I really don’t know, in many cases. My family seemed to disappear, and more and more so, the more I speak my truth. Maybe my family hates me, maybe my family, the ones I speak of, have always hated me. Maybe I am just now coming to know that what my family thinks of me is none of my business. Maybe what I’ve not come to know yet,  is how to do that and so I pray for the humility to accept that what other people think of me, no matter who they are, is none of my business.

After my Mom was buried, after everyone went back to their lives…my life began to slowly unravel. My greatest fear, losing my parents, a threat held to my throat for my entire life, came to be. My Mom was taken from me and I wept and I still weep.

I cry primal tears from a place that I didn’t even know existed within me. I fall to pieces when I realize what was done to such a tiny child, as a sick and dysfunctional family stood by, drowning in their own alcoholism and pain and dysfunction, doing nothing to stop it.

I pray for the humility to honor your journey, whatever it is…truly…I pray to set down my worry, my concern, my expectation and my hopes for you. I pray to have trust to know that you, truly do know what is best for you.

Being such a Hurt people, I become painfully aware at times, of the people I have hurt. I make no excuses and I have no expectation…with all of my heart as a healing person, I am so sorry for the people I hurt in my own ignorance and alcoholism and dysfunction. I pray for the humility to take the lessons from all of my failures, from all of the people i have hurt and been hurt by and to turn those lessons into blessings.

I believe that we make time for what is important to us and for all others we make excuses. I am just as guilty of doing this as the next person. I don’t always come with it and just speak my truth…I have plenty of time, I just no longer have time for you.

Phones dial both ways and mine has not been ringing. When my phone has rang, I have returned your calls, your texts, your comments…to the best of my ability, given all that I am trying to sort out.

I am in therapy and have been for many years. I am sober and have been sober for just over four years. I will be vegan four years on March 10th. I am a struggling and estranged sister. I am a hurting and confused daughter. I am apparently a bad friend, because I don’t have many friends left since my Mom died. I have been so immersed in so much grief and pain that I have been an absent partner. I am a gifted and dedicated therapist who is asking the universe to send me the clients who value me as much as I value them and to pay me accordingly. I am a service dog Mom who does not what to inflict her dysfunction upon her service dog.

I hurt, like I have never hurt in my entire life, as I step out of the fog I have been in, since my Moms diagnosis in October of 2015. As I begin to emerge back into what is left of my life, I ask for your love. I ask for your prayers. I ask for your understanding and for your forgiveness.

I have been walking around half asleep and partially unconscious, unable to breathe, let alone be very present or very happy. My grief, my despair, my life has leveled me and I am trying, with all of my might, to get back up. I am struggling to breathe and trying like hell, to get back up.

I will own my shit, the best way I know how, as long as I am breathing. I cannot do that if no one tells me what their experience of me really is…I mean really, really is. Tamara has been an amazing mirror, an honest and loyal, true and dedicated partner and friend and I am so thankful. Tamara says shit that I do not want to hear, that I often do not appreciate hearing, and I am thankful. I am thankful to anyone who has ever taken the time to tell me their truth. Truly, the waiting, the wondering and the torture of waiting and wondering what I have done wrong and never being told…I ask the universe for positive and constructive, loving and kind, honest and heart centered feedback.

I am a human being, being human. I am flawed and I am doing my best to be better than I was yesterday. I am doing my best to heal. Blessed be my journey. Blessed be your journey.

God, grant me the serenity to accept the things I cannot change, courage to change the things I can and the wisdom to know the difference.

I love you. I’m sorry. Please Forgive me. Thank you.