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.

What in the fuck is right with you?

The picture in front of you is what the fuck is right with me…one of the many things right with this girl, is this girl right here. I love you Tamara. Thank you for being my right…my love and my truth. Every day may not be easy. Every single day with you is worth it though. 40033F82-9937-441B-B62C-58187334BB88.jpeg

Good morning everyone. I am back. My return is timely in that some of you reached while I was away. I am here if you need me. I never announce my departure and so I’m sorry if  I didn’t get back to you. We were out of service most of our trip and it felt so good. I’m here now though if you need me.

Thank you for being here with me this morning. I miss you whenever I am away. Our trip was short and sweet so we could get back to our babies home to our sister. Our sister outdid herself for sure. Our house is cleaner than it’s been in years, even the windows are clean! Our carpet and our bathrooms are clean. Our house feels like home. We came home to Enya playing and candles lit everywhere and it was so beautiful and so wonderful and so amazing. Tamara didn’t hesitate to share her sissy with me and I am so fucking blessed. The thing about this beautiful blessing is that I often don’t know how to receive it. Maybe I don’t feel worthy of it. I know that seeing Tamara with her sissy makes me miss my little brother so bad. Michele flies from California because she wants to be here for us and spend time with us and to help us to get back up. No strings…no pay…she just loves her sissies so much. I feel so blessed to be Michele’s little sister and even though I don’t know how to be a good sister to my big sister, I am learning.

I do not write anything that I write to get your sympathy. I write to get it all out. I am pretty fucking edited, believe it or not. I miss Shawn. I’ve missed him for many years and going to Jemez, I realized that I must leave him there when I returned, in that river. I must allow it all to just wash the fuck away. My mom. My dad. My little brother. The me that I was and the family I once had…all of it…I came to wash it all away. I did not come here to do this because I wanted to and to be honest, I didn’t return to Jemez for this reason at all. As I sat with the river yesterday morning though…and she invited me to take it all away with her…as she seduced me into believing that I let go of nothing that isn’t already gone. I ran to her river bank and I offered up the things I cannot change. I handed over the things I’ve never really held anyway. I broke into a million pieces and I submitted. I hit the jagged rocks at her depths and I crashed and thrashed and cried and resisted. Please river…please, please just let me keep Shawn and my Dad…please, I begged. Don’t take that little boy from me…the little boy I wanted more than anything to come home from the hospital and be my baby brother. Please river…please and with all of my heart…don’t take that little boy away. Weeping at her banks for all that never was…I let myself go too. Please river…take me too. Take the broken and not good enough…too much me away so that Michele will always be my sissy and so that Tamara will always be my girl. Please, for the love of God dear river…with everything I have in me and most of all…please river…don’t take the girl. (Thank you for the inspiration Tim McGraw). Please, whatever you must do and however it must be…please river, have mercy upon my soul and don’t take from me the very last being that I feel I have left. Please river, don’t take the girl.

May begging ceases as I begin to remember that I am in control of absolutely nothing. I must find reprieve from the pain that is crushing my soul into near nonexistence. It is what it is. Nothing going backwards gives me the momentum I need to go forward. No blame I place upon myself or punishment great enough to turn the tide that took it all away in the first place. There is no river deep enough to drown the sorrow of losing ones family to the reality before me. Sherry is not here to make us love one another. Sherry is not here to tell us we have to show up and be together. Sherry took her rules that we al lived by and she has left the building. Sherry is not coming back and neither are Shawn or my Daddy. We don’t have to do anything anymore…any of us. We don’t have to and we don’t. An occasional coffee, minced into less than an hour because we don’t have to make the fucking time and the time we do have is more important than each other. I do not have any time for time like that, with anyone anymore.

I am tired of this rhetoric in my head that tells me that they love me in their own way. I am over the empty excuses that only leave the void larger. I cannot wish any harder or hope anymore that the love I feel I need will be bestowed upon me. Imagine begging for time, not to be denied…and yet not to be accommodated…more honest and to the point…imagine simply checked off of someone’s list somewhere. Coffee with Coral. Check please. Check. Next. No fucking thank you.

I have one life and I have mother fucking pissed a lot of it away already. I sat here waiting for you to come love me and carry me through this. I waited, literally by the phone, hoping and praying that you would call me. I have cried in so much anguish over losing the family I was born into. Why oh why didn’t they just love me? How could they take that beautiful little baby girl and not love her? How can my family have never really have done much more than tolerated me and loved me at such a distance that I cannot even fucking feel it? Shawn and my Dad simply have their own lives now. I guess I’ve put mine on hold, awaiting their return to me. The river says they will not return. The river says it’s okay. The river says let me take them because where you are going, they’ve no interest in being. I tell the river to fuck off! Had she not already taken enough from me for fucks sake? What the fuck is wrong with you I scream? What in the fuck is wrong with you…taking so much from me?! To which the river responds…I took away all that is wrong with you so that you and the world can finally recognize and appreciate you for what is right with you. The river suggests that I begin to ask myself and everyone that I encounter…”What in the fuck is right with you?”

What a beautiful message to come from such a painful and difficult journey of hearing people constantly ask me throughout my life what the fuck is wrong with me. The river says it matters not what is wrong with me…that nothing is wrong with me and has never been wrong with me at all. The only wrong in all of it is that I’ve not allowed it all to wash away sooner. The search for what is right with me begins this, the next leg of my journey. If you’re still sitting there counting what is wrong with Coral…here is my heartfelt invitation to jump in the fucking river and be gone from me. Go and do your counting elsewhere because you sitting here with your abicis counting beads of Corals failures and shortcomings is an unnecessary distraction for the good things coming.  I must go now and begin finding out what in the fuck is right with me. Have a beautiful day everyone! What in the fuck is right with you? Tell me. I will tell you too. What the fuck is right with us?!?

Tell your mom the truth…

Good morning everyone! I got down to the Healing Room early this morning. Sitting in front of the pellet stove next to Prajna and I realize how content I am in these moments.

I feel my load lighten and my path widen a bit. I feel my depths become deeper as the shallow fades into rear view. I am not in the depths of despair this morning and I am grateful. The shallows of expectations not met and dreams shattered seem less significant now as I begin swimming. We are not wading anymore. We are not resting and hiding in life preservers. The leap that I just took into the life I have always imagined takes my breath away as I gently sail down to the water.

Make no mistake, I am here to gather my tribe. Diving to my depths, they await me. I invite you to dive down with me and I give you notice that I won’t be treading in shallow waters anymore and calling that swimming. I won’t be lying in the gutter and call that resting. I won’t be merely surviving and calling that living.

My writing is my way of touching you. My words are your words and your words are mine. We are one. We are the same. If you are drowning, I am drowning. I am because you are. My language, so creative and so Coral…using the word “fuck” like that’s appropriate. Using the word “fuck” because that is part of who I’m called to be. I don’t throw that out there to be an asshole…that was for my moms benefit, and I wouldn’t really user the word benefit. I believe it was subconsciously my only jab back. Now, I’ve come to know that me and my life and my language and my work and my haircut and my tattoos are mine. With my things, on my pages, in my language and in true Coral form…I do what I want. What I want is not the same as what others have wanted from me and for me. What I want is what I want and I am just beginning to figure out what that is.

Many of you close to me still have your Mom. I am here to tell you something really important, so pay attention. I am doing and saying and being someone that I was unable to be when my mom was alive in body. Out of respect for her need to be silent, my story and my experiences as they actually occurred for me, stayed inside of me. At least for the most part. My mom wanted my hair to look a certain way and didn’t like my tattoos or my piercings. My mom hated my favorite word so, so much, until right before she died too. My mom designed her memorial tattoo herself on my right arm right before she died. My mom said “fuck” a number of times right before she died. Greatly offended I asked her “why would say ‘fuck’ to me?!?” My mom said, with brain tumor and eradicated with cancer throughout her entire body…”because it is very liberating” followed by a middle finger and a “fuck you” to my dad from across the room. Why wait to liberate yourself until you are dying? Truly, liberate yourself now, however that looks and feels for you, without being inflictive to others of course. Having me in your living room for five minutes can do that…if you need my help, I’m for hire! If you need a push or some help, reach out.

Your mom is a human being, being human, just like you. Your mom may even be a visit that you have come to dread. Here is my advice: Tell your mom that she is an overbearing, controlling and unkind woman to you. Tell your mom that because you do love her so much, you must tell her how being around her feels for you. Being around the woman because she’s dying or going to fucking die so that you don’t regret not being around her? Really?! Think about that…think about what you are doing to you both by continuing this fucking insanity. You are doing the same thing over and over again and expecting different results. Why? Every miserable fucking minute you spend with anyone for any reason is simply that…a miserable fucking minute. All you are going to get is many more miserable minutes. And yes, as many as you can cram in before she fucking dies…Why? This reminds me of what my health teacher said in the seventh grade, “For every minute you exercise, you live another minute!” That is fucking wonderful if you like to exercise. What if you don’t like to exercise though? All of those extra minutes you racked up doing something you hate are just that…more minutes added to your life, doing something you don’t want to do. Why?

Your mom…she is a perfectly flawed human being. My mom was a perfectly flawed human being. My mom did and your mom may, inflict her will upon you. You may, as I did, allow her to, because she is your mom. I am a perfectly flawed human being myself and I thought that was what I was supposed to do to be a good daughter. I could not have been more wrong, for both of our sakes and here is why; Every moment that you spend being who you are not for or with anyone, including and especially your mom, are robbing you both of the fucking prize. The prize is the authenticity of being yourself…the beauty of dressing like and looking like and being you is the most beautiful gift that you can give your mom. Don’t you want your mom to know what amazing things you are doing with the life she carried into this world? Do you not want your mom to see who you are? Who the fuck are you? I had no idea because I spent my entire life trying to be who others wanted me to be…most of all my mom.

Do yourself and your mom a favor. Be fucking honest. Be kind. Be loving. Be firm. Speak your truth with your voice. You’re mom carried you in and from there on out, you are on your own. We all are on our own. Do not let the woman who carried you in be the reason you want to take yourself out, simply because you will never be who she wanted you to be. Who do you want to be? Who are you?

You are beautiful. You are smart. You are valuable. You are resourceful. You are present. You are a good daughter. You are a good son. Make your mom proud? Why? And truthfully, would it work anyway? Make your mom aware of how you feel when you are around her. Tell your mom how it feels to come see her and that you do it out of obligation and not because you want to. Tell your mom that she is an asshole. Hear your mom when she tells you that you are an asshole. You are neither one wrong. Tell your mom that you love her and that you want to want to come see her and right now you really don’t.  You don’t like to call her and you don’t like to visit because…

I began attempting this several years before my mom passed away and it did not go at all well. My mom didn’t talk to me for weeks the first time that I really stood up to her. The susbsequent Times didn’t go a lot better for a while either. My mom died not knowing how badly she hurt me. Don’t do that to you and don’t do that to your mom.

You deserve to be treated with love and gratitude and respect. Your opinion does matter and your fucked up hair looks great to me! Do not keep yourself from yourself. Don’t keep who you really are from the woman who carried you in. What a horrible shame and substantial loss it would be for you to not let her get to know the wonder of you. What a shame it is that you are only spending quantity and not quality time with her before one of you dies. If she can’t be nice, spend less time with her and make it fucking count when you are there. Don’t stay and put up with it. Pick up your things and tell her that you will return when she can be kind to you. You want to make your mom angry,  proud, comfortable…you cannot make your mom those things. Be who you really are and watch how much she comes to love, respect and admire the amazing human being that she brought into being. Or watch in your rear view as she doesn’t. Sherry and I journeyed closer in two months than we did in 42 years, as I walked my mother home.

My mom loved me with all of her heart and my mom wanted what she thought was best for me. My mom is one of the most poignant and amazing human beings I have ever known and she was my best friend for 42 years. My mom didn’t handle me or my truth or who I was very well at times, as I did not handle hers well at times either. My mom is not here. Your mom still is. Don’t deprive yourselves of each other for one more moment.

Hi mom, it’s Coral. I am wondering if we could spend some time together today? I want to tell you how much I love you. I haven’t been honest with you and I want to set things straight between us. I love you with all of my heart and I need to tell you that you are hurting me. I need you to please not interrupt and to hear me out, okay? Being around you often kills my fucking soul. You are my mom and I want to spend time with you as me. In fact, I wanted to talk to you to tell you that if I cannot be me around you, I am going to spend less time with you….

I cannot choose your words. Only you can do that. Make them your words. If your voice is shaking and your ass is clenching just thinking about this conversation, you are doing it right. If you need help, I’ve many years of experience and a mom that I cannot have this conversation with anymore, so give me a call and I will see how I can help you. For yourself…for your mom…for the sake of the time you have left together, have an honest conversation with your mom today. Make these moments count and be who you are. Don’t let your mom die not ever really knowing the beautiful wonder that you are. Sherry says call your mom and be real. Here if you need me. Have a beautiful day! I live you!

Dear Mom,

Dear Mom,

I m sitting here with you, without you this morning in the studio you built for me. I just fired up the pellet stove for the first time this season and the sun is making her way into the sky. There is a chill in the air and in my soul this morning. An aching, crushing…life leveling pain in my chest and in my existence without you here. Especially in these days, the last days I spent with you. Fuck mom. Fuck. What happened? To everything…what happened? And everyone I used to not even know and thought I knew…where the fuck did everyone go? You know how they feel about me…how they have always felt about me and talked about me. My uncried tears, pent up for decades and generations, for the way we were treated. The way we treated each other…the way we didn’t treat exhausted other it all. It was always the fucking trickster and you and I didn’t like the trickster. Those years and those tears broke the fucking dam when you died Mom. The floods still have not ceased. I know and I feel in every tear, that I cry for you too.

I hope you like my blog as much as everyone likes the tattoo you designed for me. For you, I held it all. For you and I and for everyone else, including your sister and your little brother and everyone in your family who took such pleasure in hurting us…I leave the dam dismantled in solidarity and I allow the waters to rage through. I leave my dam open because theirs are barely intact and when those dams break, the floods will come. When the floods come that bring our family into the light, I will wash us clean and baptize us. We cannot ammend for the horrors we have inflicted and amends cannot be made for the horrors inflicted upon us. We must allow the floods that break our dams down to wash us clean and set us free. I am not going to rebuild until I welcome the flood to drown us out and wash us clean so that we may live life with purpose and meaning.

I only knew what I knew. I only learned what I was taught and I missed the basics. I never learned how to be me. I learned how to emulate who you and everyone else wanted me to be or saw me as. I never knew I had a choice or that only I could be who I am. The struggle is fucking real every day as I learn where I came from. We did not come from greatness and I did not know. I really thought we were the greatest. Did you know that there is no “We” anymore mom? When you left, so did everyone  else. I left too. No one knows how to pretend to be together anymore. No one attempts to gather Everyone anymore, since you left. You wanted this family to be together and to bring it in close for the holidays and to be close knitted…Shawn and I, to be close…a dying wish as I recall. When you left and I couldn’t come in on your arm, when I couldn’t be protected a bit by sticking close by you…there is no place for me anymore. You know Dad…he loves me with all of his heart and I love him with all of my heart..Daddy’s girl until the day I die and join you. You also know that I can’t come in on Daddy’s arm and Daddy’s not going to defend my honor…especially when everyone has always agreed that I don’t have any honor. I speak this aloud now only to let you know I’ve always felt this way. Your family and Dads family, with a few exceptions, and each of you know who you are to me, do not know Coral. The edited and made up and dumbed down and stuffed in Little girl who will never adult in their eyes…Sam…scurrying around and hiding…weird as fuck and awkward…the one the mocked and made fun of…they didn’t know her either. You did though, didn’t you? You were Sam too, weren’t you? Mom…do you have any idea how many fucking Sams there are? So you know that we are not the only badly battered and broken family that needs saving? We aren’t the only family plagued by alcoholism and incest. Did you know that?

Dad is very blessed and remarried. As you know, Dad died with you and the part of Dad that didn’t, needed someone to share the rest of his life with, and she with him. They are in the process of sorting through your things. You know all of those things that you asked us what you were doing with right before you died? Those many things are being painstakingly gone through and sorted to be gifted, donated and returned to the universe for the greater good of us all. I have very few things left after being forced into going through your things too soon for my heart. No matter how long I live, there would never be a “good time” to have to go through letting you go again. Thank you for being down here in the studio with me for nine days straight as I found my way thorough sorting through our things and letting go together.

I sit here now, next to Prajna and in front of the pellet stove…sun coming up with a lump in my throat and tears pouring down my face. I miss you so fucking much Mom. I do not know and I hope you will help me to ease this soul crushing pain. I look out the window and I don’t want to go out there anymore…not today. I cannot stand the fucking pain. On my knees and fucking begging to see and feel and know what I am here to see feel and know and then to be eased if this burden…this Groundhog Day hell that fills my fucking mornings in this, the three year Anniversary of your passing. Please release me of what no longer serves me and help me to manage what I’ve still left to heal through. And so it is.

I know you told Tamara that you couldn’t have left this world if you didn’t know that she had me. I know you and I know you would have found a way to stay. Tamara does have me and I have her and we are glad you went swiftly on your journey when your number came up. You know that I know that you were ready to go, as I have been so many times as well, long before you were taken. I thank God every day for taking you into his loving arms when he did. I have not shed  one tear for you since you left Mom…my tears have been for me, for Dad, for Shawn…for Ida and so many others whose lives have been derailed with your passing…not one for you though, as you know I know you were done with your work here.

Mom, I could write forever. I got my letters back…👠…the ones I wrote to you…hundreds of them…God Mom, I loved and love you still love you so much. What the fuck to do with stacks full of letters addressed to you, in my writing? I read a few and decided that was pretty self inflictive and so I stopped and I put them in the pile to go back to the universe. Now all of your love letters from me can join the rest of the love letters I have written and serve a greater purpose elsewhere, as they are returned to the universe for the greater good of us all.

I just want to sit here a while and let these tears pour out and cleanse me of the codependency I had on you and anyone else I’ve ever been codependent upon. I want to hurt as bad as I need to hurt so that I may purge what no longer serves me and reveal my soul.

Mom, I know you cannot tell me and you don’t have to…I’m going to ask anyway though…good and huge and amazing things are coming, aren’t they? I am stepping up to my life’s purpose in these very moments and I pray that you will guide and direct me, keep me and save me as I learn how to merge as one into spirit. The end of my Dads prayer for our entire life…”Guide us, direct us keep us and save us. Amen.” And so it is.

I will close my letter this morning by saying thank you for being my mom. I know you chose me, and I you. We didn’t go for easy, did we, when we chose? We both picked a mother fucking doozie, and on purpose, so that we could get one of those harder lessons…you know the ones that only we could have taught and learned from one another. Thank you Mom for your place in my journey and please guide me and keep me now as I separate myself from you to return to you…to return to me.

Your things and your holidays are kicking me in my fucking teeth as I learn to let go of what is not mine. Those were your passions and your pretties and I enjoyed them with you. Now, with your love and guidance and absent your control and wishes for me, I am off to become me! I love you Mom, to the moon and back, because I can’t stay just yet. As you know and have always known…I’ve huge work to do and I’m off to do it, and so it is!

I Love You Always Mom…

Coral

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Sherry came by to say to let it go…

Good morning everyone! Happy Sunday! I am writing from the studio this morning with Prajna. The sun is shining in on both of us and the sky is beautiful! Every moment with Prajna is priceless to me. Our souls feel often to be one in the same. I love you Prajna. Thank you Tamara for trusting us with such an amazing soul. We love Prajna so, so much!

My purging is finally winding down. I am definitely not done. I would guesstimate that I got rid of over half of everything I had. There is quite a bit more left to repurpose and pass on to the next soul in need on this journey. I feel lighter. I feel more purposed. I only wonder why it took me so long to see that the only way to keep anything at all…anyone at all…is to whole heartedly let go.

In going through my Moms things, I picked out a bracelet that looked very much like a Coral bracelet. It is silver and all of my jewelry is silver also, so it was perfect. I placed it on my left wrist and it felt right. Yesterday I was showing my Dad a rough link, which he fixed with his pliers. I told him I had put it on crooked and could he take it off and put it in my right wrist for me. I told him that this was the one piece of my moms jewelry that spoke to me and what did he think? My Dad said he thought it was perfect and that it wasn’t my moms bracelet. This bracelet was my dads bracelet. I was puzzled for a moment because my dad doesn’t wear bracelets. My dad continued on to say that he wore it for wrist pain. In massage school and during my internship, I won’t lie. I used my family and my friends and anyone was willing, to learn and practice my craft on. I told my dad about these energy balancing brackets that help with pain and inflammation in his wrist and hand. This is that bracelet. The perfect bracelet in all of my moms jewelry is actually my dads bracelet.

My Dad said I could keep it and placed it on my right wrist for me. I am not the least bit surprised that I picked out my dads bracelet, a single bracelet, in all of my Moms things. Probably the most purposeful and least expensive or flashy piece of jewelry that I could find…the piece that felt comfortable to me and on my wrist. A silver bracelet to balance energy…just what I was looking for and didn’t know it.

I have always been a lot more like my dad than my mom. I look more like my dad than my mom. This bracelet was my mom telling me that she knew that always and that was okay with her…that I’ve always  been daddy’s girl. As her daughter, I tried to be the little girl she always wanted, to no avail. It pained me greatly that I could never be or give my mom what she wanted. I know that it pained my mom greatly also. This bracelet was my mom telling me to be who I am. This was my mom saying if it feels right, keep it and If it feels wrong, pass it on. If YOU love it, you wear it and if you don’t, let someone else love it and be loved by it. Sherry’s lesson today is not an in body Sherry lesson, as Sherry didn’t part with her things in life. Sherry held on tight and little Sam learned to hold on tight too. Two months before my mom passed away, my mom and I journeyed closer than we ever did in 42 years. My mom and I had few words between us, as I began walking her home. Words were completely inadequate and not needed. We sat in silence a lot. We spent every moment memorizing each other so that we could hold that until we meet again. This morning I listened to a couple of my moms voicemails, just to hear her voice. A voice I also was very mindful to memorize as I realized I would never hear it again.

I have begun to find a healthy place with my mom, in silence and solitude. In all of this purging and baptizing myself and my malas in the fountain at the cemetery in front of my moms headstone, I am learning how to let go. I am letting go of all that doesn’t serve me, not just material things…the memories too. I may not have been what my mom wanted and yet I was exactly who she needed. I fucking know that. We cannot help what we want. My mom could not help but have some dreams shattered when her beautiful baby girl turned out to be a tomboy and then, even worse…a lesbian. My moms heart wanted what my moms heart wanted. Do not all of our hearts want what our hearts want? We are forced and then force ourselves and others into boxes that we never fucking belonged in. We do what we know, what we learned and what was done to us. We learn who we are by watching those around us. We mimic behaviors that do not fucking align with our souls purpose because we are “supposed to” do what we are told. Many of you know that I have made a very conscious effort to take “should” and “supposed to” out of my vocabulary. Those words, hammered into my core, do not fucking serve me and so I release them and any harm they did to me, to be recycled for the greater good of us all.

Sherrys lesson today is to let it go. All of it. Every last and little bit of it. If it does not serve you and make you better…if it doesn’t feel good and grow you, let it go. Let it go for you and let it go to find its happy and rightful home. We stay in homes and marriages and families and clothes and cars and jobs and careers and friendships that do not fucking feel good. Maybe we outgrew them. Maybe they never fucking fit in he first place. Maybe they outgrew us. However it happened, say “Thank you”.

People stay in marriages to keep their children from coming from a broken home. What is more broken than having your kid watch the two of you fucking wreck the two people they love the most? What is not broken about talking shit to the child you loved each other enough to have together, and yet don’t love and respect enough to do your adulting out of the presence of your child? Tamara said to me once that it is better to come from a broken home than to live in a broken home. At first I didn’t get it, as my parents were married for 46 years and only parted by death. If you are struggling to keep your home in tact, for the sake of your child, maybe that’s just bullshit. I mean, have you asked your child what they want and how they feel? And, what happens to both of you when the “Cat’s in the Cradle” and your kid finally gets free of the both of you and your fucking rhetoric and angry words? You both get to taste your own Medicine and without a tiny little buffer in the middle…to live in a loveless fucking relationship because you are so broken in your home that your delusion is more damaging, simply because it is now your reality. I have been a stepparent and I will admit that I was an epic fucking fail. I had no idea what in the fuck I was doing. I did my best, given what I learned by being parented and watching others parenting. I was in active addiction and intolerant as fuck. I tried, so fucking hard, which in retrospect is the problem. I mindfuck things to death, instead of simply letting them be. I hold on tight because fear has been not only my teacher but also my salvation. Sherry says to let it all go and I am letting it all go. I often did not mind well in life, or so my mom said. I definitely mind the lessons my mom sends me now. I pass Sherry’s lessons on to you in love and honor of us all. Have a beautiful day! I love you!

Fighting the good fight…

Good morning everyone! Welcome to the healing room. I began blogging in December of 2017, as a daily commitment to myself. What began and what is evolving…I could not possibly have imagined. My blog became our blog and this became our healing room. We come here to heal together. I began to worry about my content a bit…honestly because there is some hard fucking stuff to read. I didn’t want to make you all sad and sick and worried and I started to pull back a bit. And then I stopped and remembered what this blog was in the first place…this blog is a commitment to myself, evolved into a journey for us all. I want to remind you to take what you need from it and leave the rest. If it fuels you and feeds you, then drink it all in. If it is too much and it pains you more than it helps you, skip that day. I can only write from heart center and some days for me, that is fucking pain staking. Some days I have a difficult time writing at all. Some days, it flows and inspires us all. Whatever day it is, I love you and I am so glad you are here. I thank you so much for sharing in my journey and for being on this crazy ride with me.

I am finding that my solitude is most comfortable for me right now. My inward space is my cozy space. I try to venture out and find myself stuttering and stammering and feeling really awkward. I am flighty and ungrounded in all of this pain and I feel anxious a lot and like I just want to lie down…right here, right now…don’t care where…I just need to fucking lie down. So, all of these not so Coral things that are going on with Coral are a bit much for Coral, if that makes any sense at all.

My malas and my meditation, my reading and writing…beginning to draw again…my quite time in prayer and my solitude…quiet time with Tamara and our beautiful companions…that is where I feel the most okay. Reading is my new hunger and I am satisfying these cravings with amazing books loaned to me. These books are aligned with my purpose and I am so thankful for the time I have with them. I have been gifted so much in the words I am reading, the insights and realizations. I carry these books around with me and I crave the moments I can sit quietly and learn some more. This has never been a common Coral practice, unless it’s a Dr. Seuss book…and then I have been fucking enamored!

I am teaching myself new things and taking pleasure when I practice enough to actually do them well. I am moving forward with what is needed to heal me so that I can have the life I have imagined. I am in relationship with the most amazing partner, who is here in the good times and all of the very hard times. I finally know I am home and that I will not be discarded like trash when she is done with me, because she will never be done with me and I am not trash. I can be me, even though both of us are stunned at who that person is sometimes. I can fall apart for years on end and she still loves me.

I am finding and assembling my tribe and I can tell you that the people I would have imagined would be coming forth are not. The people who have fallen away have been some of my deepest loves and my “forever” people, and they still are, only now, they are gone forever. Not exactly how I imagined my forever with them and the pain of that is beginning to dissipate a bit finally.

My Mom, gone from my sight. Yesterday, as I was about to flail into convulsions of pain and misery and hopelessness, she came as a white butterfly and stayed with me a spell, until I could smoke myself into a calm and relaxedish state again. My medication, the smoke that brings me down enough to breathe again… filled my lungs and my body and renewed my spirit a bit so that I could remain upright. I left before she could fly away because I just could not stand to see her leave me again.

My jaw has been dislocated this time for just over a week and I cannot get it back in myself, so I am off to see the most amazing and kind and compassionate chiropractor in all of the land, to tape my fucking face back together. I admitted hitting someone in the face, and I relayed how that felt for me. I too have been struck in my face, enough to break my right jaw. I can relay how this feels too. For as long as I can remember, my right jaw hurt. In massage school I was getting the worst headaches and they wouldn’t resolve. My instructor, Gurabhai, worked intently on me to some relief and yet the headaches were worsening. I went to my chiropractor and it was discovered for the first time, that my jaw was completely dislocated out of its socket. Thank God, was able to get my jaw back in the socket and then tape it into place every morning before my internship, so that I could graduate on time. I am blessed that when I called this morning she is getting me in to tape me back together.

So…with that I will close for this morning. I hope you have a beautiful and blessed day. I am off to get some relief so that I may show up for my pelvic injections tomorrow morning….as much as I am not wanting to go, I am so thankful that my surgeon and I have come back together and hand in hand on my journey to wellness. It is never too late to do the work to live the life you have imagined. Let’s get building, shall we?

An update for those interested…

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Good afternoon. To apprise you of my current situation, I had an appointment with my surgeon this morning and my road to healing shall be a long one.

I am on HRT, which was slightly increased today, as the sweating and hot/cold is still fairly prominent. I go in next week, in office and under anesthesia, for injections to my pelvic floor. These are the injections I spoke of that did not get done in surgery.

My surgeon sat down together, with Tamara an I a couple of weeks ago, and again today with just she and I. Tears and hugs and apologies at our first meeting. Today, after hugs, we forged ahead with a plan. We, my surgeon and I, seemed to heal and heal each other in ways unspoken. There was no need for many words. As I sit here, I feel the words leaving my body…as if to say the time has come for me to listen.

Reliving the trauma that got me here has been unsettling and painful. I have definitely lost my way in all of the pain and blame and fear. The severity of my abuse has literally locked my body down, in an effort to defend itself. For over 40 years, when I was not cracked open against my own will or drunk enough to fuck, my body is on lockdown. As you can imagine, all of these years of locking down and clamping shut have taught my body only one thing, to clamp down and lock myself safe inside. In order to interrupt and train my body to do something different; I am going to have to have these injections once a month, under anesthesia, until I can do it otherwise.  Additionally, I am going to have to see an oriental pain specialist twice a week for a couple of hours each session, indefinitely. Once the injections begin to do their job and I can tolerate it, I will be referred for PT, and I can’t even speak of that right now. Truly, no words for the journey I am embarking upon, in an effort to be well and pain free and happy and whole….the journey of my life. I just walk through the fire to stop the flames for once and for all. I must scream with all of my might to silence the echos screaming inside myself.

Incest and sexual abuse have left their mark upon me alright. I’ve the scars and the pain and the dysfunction to prove it. I’ve the broken heart of a daughter who lost her Mom and the longing for things that once were, even though, I don’t think I do really. My heart cannot break free of my mind for long enough to make sense of it all.

At first I was overwhelmed and disheartened, scared and reluctant. Today I surrendered, in the cemetery, as I baptized myself in my Moms fountain. I wiped my face and drenched my hair and then her pretty face with my tears and I sat for quite a spell. I baptized my malas In her fountain and I recited and prayed as I wept. I left the cemetery today differently than I came in. It’s almost as though I left my voice there…like I’ve nothing much to say.

I wish to read and reflect, meditate and be still. As I swished my head from side to side and I  let the water fly from my hair, I crawled up into my FJ and Johnny Lang was playing. I wiped my tears and sat a spell, to attempt to comprehend what had just taken place. This baptism, this commitment to my own healing…This void…literally all I can call it…empty space so full that it consumes and dismantled me, piece by piece, as I wake each day to another death of my Mom.

I am reading Ram Dass and Hermann Hesses, Siddhartha. I am frozen and captivated and alive and waking up. I am old and new and young and old. I am here. I am not there. I am today, not tomorrow. I wash myself clean if the illusions that deceive me and I surrender to my journey to heal the wreckage left behind by a sick and violent lineage. I forgive the hands that hurt me and I arise anew from my ashes. And so it is.

Thank you for being here. You give me strength for the journey, light in my darkness and love when I need it most. I love you and I thank you, with all of my heart for carrying me through this. Today, I literally begin again. I am humbled. I am blessed. I am thankful. I am because you are. I love you.

 

I love you Honey La Bronx!!!!!

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Good morning everyone! I hope you are all having a good morning so far. I am sorry I didn’t blog much yesterday. My physical body is struggling and my psyche has taken a bit of a hit through all of this post op recovery. Enough of all of that! I’ve some love to spill over all of you on this day!

Have you ever met someone who inspired you so much that you just knew you could do it too? I mean, just watching this person gives you strength and drive and momentum…and fuel for the journey? I met such a person over the weekend, and her name is Honey La Bronx.

I dedicate this blog, with my deepest and sincerest thanks to Honey, for a life altering weekend. I was not sure how to grow into who I am meant to be, and I was pretty concerned that I wouldn’t figure it out in time, so that I can do the most I can to help others, in as many ways as I can. Meeting Honey was the reminder I needed to just fucking do it! Whatever it is…do it! Amateur drag king…don’t think about it for long enough to talk yourself out of it…just fucking do it Coral…and so I did…and what an experience!

Honey came to Albuquerque for a drag show at Effex Nightclub, and Tamara and I hosted her here at Santuario de Karuna. Plant Powered Events, thank you so much for bringing Honey to Albuquerque! Honey, thank you so much for coming to Albuquerque and for spending your time and love with us!

I love you Honey. Truly, I haven’t met someone so inspiring and so real and authentic and true, in a very long time. I don’t really have words, just yet, for how you have touched my life. You are a beautiful and absolutely amazing human being and I thank you, from the bottom of my heart for the light you shed, the love you brought and for helping me to smile again.

All too often, we hold these things in our hearts, instead of sharing them with the people who change our lives. I just want to say that my heart is full and my life is forever brightened and changed and blessed by this beautiful and amazing human being…Honey La Bronx.

My Mom was also a Queen and I loved being with her again, just by being here with you! I felt her close and happy and fulfilled in your dressing room and I saw her smile again. I felt her happy and whole and doing what she loved so much…being the queen! Thank you so much for that time with my Mom, walking next to you.

My world is a little brighter and my load feels a little lighter. My faith in humanity is a little stronger and my drive is a lot higher. My smile broke through the pain finally. Who knew, that being authentic could break through so many barriers so quickly.

I love you Honey and I just want you to know that you have forever changed my life. Thank you for the beauty you brought into our world, for your love and support of all of the Animals. Our time with you was nothing short of epic!

I just want to say it again…I love you Honey! Thank you. Thank you. Thank you. We hope to see you again very, very soon!

Have a beautiful day everyone! If you haven’t, check out our friend Honey at Honeylabronx.com

Thank you Honey for opening up my world! Did I say that I love you already? Just in case I didn’t…I love you Honey!!!

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Today we cut the ribbon…Welcome all, to Coral’s Healing Room…

Good morning everyone! Welcome to Coral’s Healing Room! I have been working my little bed bound ass off trying to get this page the way I want it! What do you think? Is it starting to come together a bit? Truly, your constructive feedback is always encouraged and appreciated.

I definitely have a vision for this page and a dream of my work in the world. I began this blog to begin to heal myself, to honor a place in myself that wants to write and heal and evolve and grow. I needed something. I desperately needed something. I needed desperately to do something I felt I was good at, every single day, to heal myself. I needed to purge and I needed to speak and I needed to stop trying to be anonymous. I decided, with absolutely no clue where to start, to start my own blog. I named my blog so that you could find me if you are looking for me and so that you could avoid me if you don’t want to find me. I am obviously visible and I opened my invitation, with absolutely no exception…the doors were cracking open and the light started pouring out of he darkness. Coral’s blog began to come to life…spitting and sputtering…I think I can, I think I can…

What happened next is the amazing part…the transformational part…the inspirational and the healing part…next…you showed up! You came to be with me as I struggled like I have never struggled before. You changed everything! You started coming for morning coffee with Coral. You started messaging me and calling me and YOU showed up in my darkness. You brought me back into the light. You loved me. You still love me. YOU all are my inspiration, my strength on many days and my rock. We built this room together! Coral’s Healing Room is our room, that we built together, in our pain and our struggles and our adversary. If you build it, they will come. I am building…we are building…they are coming…we are blessed! We are on time!

My 365 day commitment, to write to heal myself, has opened the door for substantial growth and healing for us all. There is something about knowing that we are not alone, that gives us strength we don’t have otherwise. There were some Hard reads in there, weren’t there? Some of my shit triggered your shit and we were a hot mess there for a bit, weren’t we? That all being acknowledged…that is why we are here now! We are here now because healing is more important than holding on to the hurt. healing is our right and we are ready to have us some of that. I know I am. I am listening to “That’s Christmas to Me” by Pentatonix all morning while I am writing…because this is Christmas to me…This transformation with you…That’s Christmas to Me…

That’s Christmas to Me

I am still figuring out how to add links, so if it doesn’t come up, pull it up and listen with me, will you? Let us celebrate this day together…and listen…

My Mom comes to mind and tears roll down my cheeks, as this song plays, as Christmas was her day, her contribution to the world she lived in. Christmas was her time and for all that she was not anywhere else in her life, Christmas was her time to shine, and shine she did! I am going to shine too! Today is Christmas to me and I sit here in my tears and a moment of silence, and I send my Mom, wherever she is, all of the love in my heart. I give that woman all I’ve got, in love and light, forgiveness and gratitude, to help to fuel her journey to where she is going. I love you Mom. Godspeed and may God himself wrap you up in love and healing. I honor you and your journey. I thank you for all that you are to me and I forgive you for all that you were not. I have never had the perfect words for you…you know that. I hope these work…I love you Mom. Fly free…Ive got this and Tamara’s got me. I’m good. You go do you…for probably the first time ever, you go do you…Ive got me. I am okay. I love you and today, I truly set you free. I pray you’ll stay close and visit me, that you will send me signs and help along my path, and I release you of any expectation I may still have of you though. Merry Christmas Mom…today I set us both free! I love you Mom. I have always loved you and I will always love you! Merry Christmas!

In this room, we do forgiveness. In this room, we do love. In this, our healing room, we are just walking each other home. I believe in the good things coming and I am so thankful for all of the good things already here. As we dedicate our healing room today, as we cut the proverbial ribbon on this new adventure, I wish each of you a very Merry Christmas!

Hey, thank you for being here and for making this space the best space ever! Thank you for taking this from healing from trauma to healing and being loved so deeply, in a space where we can always come to be together, you and I. I love you! I really do love you! Merry Christmas everyone! Merry Christmas Sherry! Welcome home!

An open letter from the Scapegoats to the Abusers…

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Good morning everyone! I am still smiling from my visit with my beautiful cousin Regina. I am overjoyed to look out and see Karuna and Ahimsa finally together! I am so blessed to wake up and share this amazing life with my beautiful girl and all of these amazing sentient beings. I am gathering my own tribe and we are rising up. My surgery is in a couple of weeks and so my pain can finally be addressed. I am so blessed and so thankful. I am honoring my commitment to myself in my writing and I’m coming in out of the pain of my life a bit.

With that being said, I’ve a letter in my head, that I’ve wanted to write for a very long time and I always thought I was a single scapegoat in this hell. This letter is not singular…this letter is to all of the abusers, from all of the scapegoats, in your family, in your life… and in mine. We rise up and will not be silenced any longer about things that really matter.

My writing has one purpose and one purpose only…to facilitate healing, to release what does not serve me and to offload what is not mine to carry. I am here, walking each other home, just like you are. I want peace just like you do. I want to be safe and secure and loved, just like you do. I want my life to matter, just like you do. I don’t do mean and bully. I don’t drink alcohol anymore, and I won’t be in close proximity to those who do. This isn’t about judgement, as much as it is about self preservation.

My tribe, the people I am choosing to be around…they are all sacred and beautiful to me. You don’t have to love them like I do, and you won’t be unloving to them or about them in my presence either. I will not stand by and allow for injustice any longer, because I am afraid to speak. I will not accept behavior from anyone that harms someone else. If you have something to say, please say it. Don’t ask other people to hold for you, to deliver  your messages, to do your dirty work, to keep things secret…do it yourself. Asking others to not say something to so and so, because why? What is all of that? Just fucking say it…whatever it is, to whomever it is, about whatever it is, and let’s be fucking done with it, shall we? Truly, think about it…whatever you are holding, that you’ve just been dying to fucking say to someone…I mean really, really dying to say to someone…just say it! We would all feel much better if you would just get it off your chest so we can all offload it…Are you willing to do that? Are you willing to pick up the phone and to have that really difficult conversation, so that all of us don’t have to walk on eggshells around you all if the fucking time? I am ready and I am willing and I am going to share my letter with you now. Maybe you will find this letter helpful, as a template of your own, to go and do some healing in your own life? I hope so…I really do! So, go grab yourself another cup of coffee and let’s do this!

I begin this morning by offering up a prayer of protection and safety for us all. I channel a white light from source, through the center of my heart, as a protection portal for us all, so that we may be authentic and real and true, and not be harmed for it. I offer up the same prayer of protection for all of those we love and hold sacred, that they may also be protected from any harm or backlash from our bravery to stand up. I cover us all in love and courage and humility, so that we may openly speak our hearts and share our stories. I send this love and this protection to the abused and to the abusers as well, as we all try to come together to come clean and heal together. We are all just walking each other home and so I pray for enlightenment, healing, courage and serenity for us all. I lift every single one of us up, in prayer and love overflowing, to experience substantial healing from our willingness to open up and come clean, to open up and be cleansed…and so it is.

Dear people who hurt me and people hurt by me,

My name is Coral and I have been wrong. I come before you today to tell you that…I have been wrong. I come and ask forgiveness for my shortcomings and my failure, for not knowing what I didn’t know, until I knew it. I have learned who I am and how to be from some people that taught me stuff I don’t chose to take with me anymore. For those I have harmed along the way, partners, friends, family members, animals, children…Mother, Father, Little Brother…cousins, aunts, uncles, grandmothers and grandfathers…second cousins, ex-wife, ex-girlfriends, Tamara, Regina, Sigrid…anyone I may have bullied or teased or made fun of…laughed at or ignored completely…step-children, teachers, coaches….I stand before you now and I tell you that I have been wrong.  I ask your forgiveness and I offer you mine. I forgive myself for all things, even if you cannot find a way, yourself, to forgive me. I finally forgive me anyway.

To those who kept me in dark corners and to those who saw me go in those corners afraid, and did nothing at all, I forgive you. I don’t understand how you have been able to watch children get bullied and taunted and teased, all to the point of terror and fear, and do nothing at all. I forgive you, and yet I cannot understand you.  How were you able to be standing on the other side of closed doors, hearing what you heard, and not break the door down and kill the adult, hurting the child  on the other side, is completely beyond me?

I ask everyone to stand with me for a moment in solidarity, remembering the life of Victoria Martens. I ask each of you to send love and light, awareness and healing to the beautiful little girl who lost her life and the family who took that life. We must realize that we all must heal, in order for true healing and peace in this world. Victoria, May God rest  her sweet little soul, lost her little life because of some very sick people.  I am here to tell you, until we get care about getting them well, until we love them too, we will all stay sick to some degree. I know you don’t want to hear it and yet, you already know it to be true…we cannot be discriminate in our love and our love must be unconditional, if we are ever to truly heal ourselves, to heal our world, to grow and prosper.

We have been the victims of some heinous crimes. We have been on the receiving end of some torture and abuse that most people cannot fathom. We have been touched in untouched places, that took not only our innocence, our virginity and our concept of self worth, but also our ability to be as we would have been, untainted by your sick mind and your grubby, greedy little hands. We don’t know what we might have been doing if we weren’t used as little props to get your Dick hard while your forced us to sit on your lap, look at your pornography, listen to you disrespect women and children, and even each other. We aren’t sure why we don’t remember anything other than how we got there and being back…where did all of the time in between go? Why do we remember being dropped off at your house and yet we remember nothing else, absolutely nothing else…because it literally went black, and it’s missing? For us, the black and fuzzy is becoming colorful and clear and we are sick to our stomachs. We are all remembering and we aren’t going to be silent anymore. We know we aren’t alone and we know that we aren’t lying. We know what you did and we are damn well going to say so. We are sorry you are sick and we are here to tell you to get some help. We want you to get some help, for us all…go and get yourself some fucking help, for God’s sake!

Look at what you have done man! Look at what you have done. You cannot, ever, no matter what, undo it…you just can’t go back and make what you did not have happened. You might start by not doing it anymore, but you dont, do you? You don’t stop…you have hurt many others, besides me, haven’t you? The hell that replays in my mind, in my relationships, in my battle with my own addiction and my own demons…that reel doesn’t just play over and over for me, does it? Does anyone else in my family have the same reel playing, in the deepest and darkest place in the darkest corners, over and over again? Do you? Does your family have a film that everyone has been forced to watch over and over and over again, that made everyone sick and uncomfortable?

Those of us who have been packing in and out with all of your shit for all of these years, are tired. We are fucking exhausted, carrying your packs and your demons and your shame…your secrets and your filthy alcohol tainted breath. We don’t want you touching us. Is that clear to you, I mean really clear? Do not touch our kids or our grandkids or their kids. You keep your filthy hands off of our children and keep your dick in your pants and your alcohol to yourself…we are rising up and you will not hurt our children. Are we abundantly clear? We are watching you and we will not stand for you hurting our children the way that you have hurt us. We will protect our children and you will stand the fuck down. Statute of limitations may or may not have run out for all of us, but the mother fucking clock is ticking now, the security cameras are on and we are watching your every move. Sherry is on our side now, and from where she is standing, she will be our protector, and you will not harm children anymore. You harmed Sherry’s children and the children that Sherry loves so much and you are being called out…you are on notice and you are finished here.

We have taken your packs and your demons and your guilt and your shame and your sin and we have placed them on the ground in front of us. All of your packs, every single one of them, off of our backs and sitting at your feet. Pick them up. Leave them there. We don’t care. Just be clear, as we all join hands together, that we stand together and we set this shit down right now…we will not pass this way again.

We are not scapegoats. We are beautiful souls, with soaring spirits and open hearts. We were not destroyed by you. In fact, we are more than we might have been, because you busted us so fucking wide open, that we had no choice but to learn to grow by ourselves. We are beautiful and we are resilient and we stand hand in hand with each other now, and we send you on your way with your packs. You can take your wife too, the one who enabled you. You can take the kids, the ones who you destroyed by teaching them to be unaccountable like you, and you may all leave this place. You don’t want to be here, where we are…you’ve always been clear about that; your disdain for us, our lifestyles, haircuts, outfits and mouths…so please go ahead and go. We don’t want you here with us either and we never have. Adults don’t belong in kids forts and kids beds and in kids play time…and yet, there you were, weren’t you? Playing house, for real with your sisters daughter….and I am fucked up?

So, you all have your packs and we all have our lives back and I believe we are done here, at least for today. We will be checking the security footage on all of the cameras and we have placed extra security around the children. We are watching you and you are finished. You can stand down on your own and right yourself on your own, or we will be back to help you to be accountable. Make no mistake, we are not alone and we are silent no more, about things important to us. We are watching you and we are watching each other and we now have people watching us and we rise up!

This concludes our letter for today. This letter was just to let you know that we know what you have done, what you continue to do, and we are not liars and misfits and losers…we are beautiful people, rising from the ashes of the hell you ignited on top of us from the moment you laid eyes on us. We are here and we are not alone. We come in peace and we have our knives at our sides. We will not, for any reason, ever again, be reduced, discarded or ignored. We are here and we have as much right to be here as you do. As we rise up, we invite you do the same. We encourage you to rise up too. We want you to rise up too. We lift you up. With all of that being said, be very clear, that if you don’t rise with us, you will fall beside us, because we aren’t going down again. Very literally, I will not go down again. Am I abundantly clear, so that we can begin to move forward together? We rise up! We hold hands and join our hearts and we rise up! You have all seen our descent…now watch our rising!

I love you my beautiful cousin, Regina…..

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Good Morning! Happy Tuesday! Let’s grab our coffee and get ready for our time together, before the world calls And whisks us all away.

I had an amazing day yesterday! Fucking amazing! Thank you. Thank you. Thank you. Truly, what a blessing, to see my long lost cousin that I have missed dearly, for over 20 years. Estranged by our own issues and addictions, we are reunited and it feels so good! (Thank you Tamara, for that).

I know that I am writing about some hard stuff and we talked about some hard stuff yesterday…some really, really hard stuff. My cousin was unable to be at her Aunt Sherry’s funeral. Hell my cousin was unable to be a lot of places, and the reasons I heard, are not the reasons she gave. I learned yesterday that the broken ones aren’t the misfits and the liars. The losers aren’t really the losers. The hero’s are actually bullies. I learned that we are fucking resilient and we have only been misfit because our hearts were too tender to be bullies and hurt others.

Here is the really cool thing…this is my blog and I write what I want. I write how I feel. I write about my experiences and my life and how things occur for me. I am honoring a commitment to myself, to write and get it all out, rather than keep it in for 365 days. I began blogging in December, and my writing is taken on an experience all its own. Words flow through me and I heal as they are finally able to leave me. I am here to heal. I am here to heal us all, to walk us all home, all of us, even and especially the ones who have harmed me. I will not be silent about things that matter to me. I will speak about things that have happened to me. I will honor me and my experiences and my journey at all times. I am not here to call people out and crucify people. I am not here to throw names around and ruin lives. I’m not here for revenge. I’m not mentioning names, unless I have permission, unless it is so blatantly obvious (my brother, my Dad, my mom…) Tamara and my cousin Regina have given me their permission to use their names and write about them. I named my abuser, which had obviously connected some dots.

Here’s the thing, I’m not here to cause harm and at the same time, I am not here to be harmed. If me talking about something that you did to me is causing you discomfort, maybe you want to look at why that is? How do you know I am talking about you, and why are you uncomfortable? Truly, if I am speaking of atrocities that you had no part in, why are you so upset and reactive? If my speaking about my experiences in my family, with my Dad, having lost my little Brother or my deceased Mother, God rest that poor woman’s soul, are offensive to you, why is that? My talking about abuse inflicted on my for 18 years is upsetting to you, when you are one of the people who silently stood by…here’s a mirror man. If in all of this, I’m not talking about you, you probably haven’t thought much about it at all, other than to send me a loving message. Oh wait, my phone did not blow up with loving messages from my concerned family at all. My phone blew up with more stories like mine…more hurt like mine. My phone hasn’t rang since my Mom died, more than a handful of times, my family checking on me, loving me through this…(those of you who have, you know who you are and I love you. Thank you. Thank you. Thank you.) Those of you who haven’t and those of you running around in a fucking tizzy over this blog, why is that? You have not called to check on me, to say you love me and you are so sorry for what happened to me…why is that? Why have my Mom’s siblings not called me to offer condolences for what your sister did to me? Do none of you feel badly for what Debra did to Sherry by destroying Sherry’s daughter and her relationship with her? I’m just saying, I’ve not heard from you…and so it seems that everyone has scattered like cockroaches, as the light is being shed on things kept in the worst kind of darkness and under the filthiest of rugs. Shame on you for still being more concerned about running and hiding and covering for one another than you are about the children harmed in the making of your Horror story. Put the bottle down and put your dick back in your pants and for once in your life, take some fucking accountability man. Seriously, grow the fuck up and help us to heal and to protect the children who still live under this dark and sick cloud. Stop covering your fucking ass and mitigate some fucking damage here! We owe the world more than we have put out there so far, don’t we? Kicking dogs and hurting children, screaming and slithering around in drunken stupors, “hugging and teasing and tickling” children…for real? Is this what we came here for? Is this all we’ve fucking got…blame and no shame and glory days of beating faggots and niggers asses? Is this the legacy that my Moms family of origin is going to leave on this universe? Be the change. Be sorry. Be wrong. Be something…for fucks sake man,  be something…stand for something….rise the fuck up. Set the bottle down, leave the dogs and the kids and the little girls alone. I am not here to call you out and yet, your guilt put you pretty front and center, didn’t it? Think about that and then feel free to give me a call. I will be more than happy to sit down with you and we can talk and try to do our due diligence to this world, to atone for our sins, apologize to those we have harmed, get sober and be good and kind and decent productive members of society. I fucking dare you to heal with me.

Debra, I am sad, and not at all surprised to hear that you are calling me a liar. I am going to have to decline your invitation to come and say these lies to your face, at this time. I actually have nothing to say to you and have wasted much of my time and energy putting myself in positions so  that you could say something to me. I guess you are right, I am stupid, because I really thought, that you would be so sorry for what you did to my Mom and to her daughter and to the little family that she wanted more than anything in this world. I really was ready to forgive you and tell you I loved you just the same, at your daughters graduation from college, when you assaulted me again and told me that not only were you not sorry, that you would do it again. I went into convulsions on the way home and cried like my soul just died. When we got home, I was carried upstairs to the couch where I didn’t move at all, for three fucking days. I was mother fucking catatonic and when I came out of that, I got up and headed straight into my shower to scrub the you off of me. So, now is not a good time for me to come and see you, and your reaction to me writing about what you did to me is not only juvenile and fairly incriminating, it is really fucking pathetic. My Mom is dead, just how you wanted her…just where you put her. My Dad is in your neck of the woods way more than he’s in my neck of the woods anymore. My Brother and I, after so many people and places and things pulled us apart are trying to find our way back to one another. Your daughter and I, who have never strayed too far from one another, have had a very strained relationship because of what you have done and your fucking reactions to us trying to stay close. Your daughter, estranged from her own family, because of what you have done and I am a liar? You are a sick, broken down alcoholic who harmed children Debra. Correct your fucking self…put the bottle down and be fucking accountable. Your name only crosses my lips so that I can heal, and I love you just the same. I’m not ready to talk to you just yet though.

I had a beautiful day of healing and inspiration yesterday with my beautiful cousin. I don’t know when the last time I started to run across a parking lot to embrace someone was or when ever cried in front of a family member like that. I don’t ever remember a deeper and more heartfelt conversation with a family member, other than my Mom in her last two months of life, than the eight beautiful hours I spent yesterday with my cousin Regina.

Let me tell you what a beautiful fucking soul that girl is…my cousin. Yesterday, as I sat across from her, a white light illuminated her beautiful face the whole day. My spirit calmed and Sam came for a visit…maybe even more present than Coral yesterday, was Sam. Regina knows Sam and Sam knows Regina. Sam has loved Regina her whole life.

So, for every bad thing being said about me, for the haters and the naysayers…it’s all good…I’ve got my love goggles on.

Love that never left my life, although absent and distant in time and space, returned to center yesterday when I sat with my cousin, one of my best childhood friends and confidants…and she still is. Thank you. Thank you. Thank you. We found our way back and we are walking each other home. We hope you will join us. I love you Regina. Thank you for one of the most beautiful days of my life yesterday, healing and growing with you..I love you cousin!

Have a beautiful day everyone! I love, love, love you too!