Trauma Bonding My Truth

Stopping the violence against women starts with telling the truth. I was ashamed and embarrassed to be going through this again but giving cover to abusers is no longer acceptable. Obviously, I have some more healing to do. Being Empathic can be deadly. I am transparent because that is what I am called to be. How else will women get the truth about what is really going on with us and why we keep doing the same thing over and over. We need to start talking about this very prevalent issue of Domestic violence.

I am so angry and that is a part of healing, but damn, I get double angry that the reason women like me keep choosing the same person over and over is that some A-hole did something to us so bad that it left us broken.

I still want to be a relatable example and the irony of it, is I AM A RELATABLE EXAMPLE. I am okay with that. Whatever is necessary for all o our healing.

This is my expression of truth in anger while I heal, reprogram my subconscious and continue on my purpose to do exactly what God called me to do. We can be free.

I have seen TOO MANY WOMEN living in fear all of my life. I am going to figure this ish out and help us all to understand and grow.

All of my abusers had this to say about me “That mouth of yours…..”

See, I am not going to allow you to talk to me any kind of way, so when I stand up for myself or try to enforce my boundaries they want to fight me because they can’t control me. But this scenario was familiar to me because of the programming of my subconscious as a child. All of my mother’s relationships were violent. As an infant, I was being wired to feel like this type of exchange between people that love each other is normal.

The part I play in all of it is not paying attention to the red flags or repeating the cycle all codependents go through. The cycle of  Rescuer, Victim, and Perpetrator.  I moved too fast in some situations and not so fast in others but no matter the circumstances I know now that I was only seeking healing. So here I go on this next therapy journey. I am assured by my therapist that this time healing won’t take as long. I am committed. It is my purpose

#GirlGetSomeHelp #TraumaBondingIsReal #NeverAgain

 

My African American HerStory

***My HerStory***
I hope she is proud of me. This is my Great Grandmother Bertha Sanders she transitioned in August of 1972. She was 80 years old. Her Father was an African Slave and her Mother was A Native American. She worked and was on her feet till the day she passed.. She had just been diagnosed with Heart Disease when she told us that she would not under any circumstances die in a “white man’s ” hospital. She said, “I am going to lay down, prop my feet up, close my eyes and go home.”

That is exactly how she transitioned. She laid down on the couch in the living room and closed her eyes and did not wake up.

I had gone to church and when I returned she was already gone. The coroner had taken her body. It was just my Grandmother and I left to fend for ourselves.

My Great Grandmother had what we now call a bucket list. She wanted a Family Reunion on her 80th Birthday July 4th. She wanted me to start going to church. This had not really been a priority because she prayed with me and read from the Psalms and Proverbs to me at night before bed.

After her death I swear I could hear her at times saying to me, “Nesie be a good girl.” I also remember that she would say to my Grandmother Mamie, “Give that girl whatever she wants.” I was her girl and forever will be.

I share this story in HONOR of Black History Month. My Great Grandmother is truly African American. This is why I am offended when society wants me to be reduced to a color.
There is only one race, the human race.This is my HerStory

I honor the Mamie and Bertha in me

the image they continue to give me is one of possibility 

these women stood tall, I never saw their backs break

a slight bend now and again

but never broken

I never saw them without what they needed

they showed me with hard work anything can be defeated

I am not afraid to break a sweat

so you have not even seen the best of me yet

I am like my Great Grandmother Bertha,

she walked through this world on her own terms

she paid the price to decide

when to prop up her feet and die to flesh

this is who I am

my grandmother Mamie  did the same thing

you would always her saying

I will go die before I lose my independence

and she left this world on her own terms

this is where I come from

backs do not break

we walk on through

our souls help us decide what to do

like their great, great, and great-granddaughter Melisa

even though they left her for dead

she has a mission

she will decide when it is time to go home

so I am going to be all right

this is where I come from

I have decided I have more work to do

more light to shine, more seeds to be sown before I go home

I am going to lay my burdens  down

at Mamie, Bertha, Cara, and Margie’s feet

they are already free

and they are waiting on me to finish up this work

and come home and be free

by mozayik “the souls’ poet”  3.11.13

 

Do you know your God’s Voice?

It is imperative that we know the voice of God for ourselves. We can not allow another human being to tell us who God is to us. I am not a young woman anymore and I have healed and grown enough to know that whatever I do will affect not only me but my entire family, my friends, my community and the universe that is me. I must consult God when making decisions.
There was a time when I needed the approval of others.
I have been through a lot in my life and because God has always protected and provided for me even when I did not acknowledge God.
I bumped my head a lot and took myself through some unnecessary drama.
But GOD, was patient with me as I learned how to be the woman I am born to be.
My journey is unique and my path is specifically for me and me alone.
Now my prayer is “Let the Will of God be done. No matter the situation, that prayer is the one to pray. For me it is Fail Proof. I only want what God wants me to have.
I know when God is speaking to me. I know the leading of my soul, my intuition, my gut feeling, the holy spirit or whatever you wish to call that knowing.
Do you trust God’s leading beyond the shadow of doubt even when the entire world is saying don’t do it.
I know that the decision to return to St Louis is God’s will for my life. God has given me a partner that I can grow with spiritually.
God has shown us that WE ARE IN GOD’S WILL.
I am Happy, We are happy and it is both of our desire to serve and sow good seed into good ground so that our harvest is good enough to share.

Worthy Reflection (I’m priceless)

As I think back over my life in this reflective vibe I have been in lately, I see all the places in my life where I discounted my value. It saddens me to know that I did not see how immensely valuable my presence was in my family’s life.

Coming to Phoenix is exactly what I needed to realize my worth. To understand my influence and my purpose. Even when I was a very young woman considering placing my children for adoption, it was because I thought I could not be a good mother.

I now know that with this big ole heart that God gave me nothing could be further from the truth.
Now that I know what I bring to the table of life I see where my presence can make a difference in this world.
What I have to give my family, friends, community and partner is extremely valuable. Now that I know how to give from my overflow I am ready to continue this journey of healing. The next step is to continue to encourage women to heal with #GirlGetYouSomeHelp brand. I am not thru.
The next level is going to be Fantastic. I already have a vision but more than that I have a plan. Still basically the same mission but the HOW is clear. I am excited to see what the rest of this year will bring.
I started out with investing in myself and my business. I have grown greatly as a woman and as a business woman. My confidence is huge because I have built a support system of like minded business women that I follow.
I know more about me, so I can pace myself in all areas of my life. I know how to set boundaries now. I am not ruled by my emotions. Finding peace, contentment or happiness is a breath away now.
When I remember to breath and acknowledge gratefully where that breath comes from, all is well in my soul in the moment. Is not the moment all we have?

Just Love somebody damn it!!!  Love or Fear which will you choose?

My love is an inexhaustible stream

given at birth for me to give away

the only power i have

the only thing i could ever control

is my choice to love

i don’t have to chase it

or look for it

i am it

so i decide to love

right now

this second

giving you my love makes my love overflow

when i give it to you god gives me more

the only reason to be alive is to love

any other reason and you have chosen an unnecessary chore

excerpt from “the souls’ poetry” by mozayik “the souls’ poet”  pg 67

Fear robs us of so much. Today I have talked about love, thought a lot about love and read a lot about people wanting but fearing love.  It seems we all want love but we are afraid to love anyone cause we don’t want to hurt.

Yet people like me get criticized for just wanting to experience love in all its facets.  I am love so why wouldn’t I want to give this love away?   All we have really, to give, is love.  You can judge me and call me kooky.  But while you living in fear I am living in love.
I may get “hurt” 25 more times before I die but at least I lived and loved.  I may have 6 more relationships that fail (I hope not, that is why I am doing my work in therapy) but at least I have created some great memories and loved some wonderful people.

I don’t regret any love I have given and I will love the next lover  with as much fervency as the last.
This love is mine to give and it is inexhaustible.  At the end of my life you can say “She loved”

Just Love somebody damn it!!!  Love or Fear which will you choose?

#GirlGetYouSomeHelp

#loveisallthatmatters

 

The Impetus “the book”

I thought I had finished my book in 2008. I know, 10 years, right? The first title was “My Healing Journey”.  I titled it this because the poems told a story of my healing chronologically. The chapters and themes are the same today in the The Souls’ Poetry.

The early poems spoke in the voice of the victim and then progressed through the many layers of healing. Light, Darkest before Dawn,  Anger, Bitterness etc……with Self Love being the super power needed to stay committed to healing. I made huge sacrifices for my healing. At one point I was estranged from my entire family. Healing can be messy and it will uproot anything that is resistant to change.

I believe once a woman has healed she can support other women in their healing. Often times as was in my case, that woman is the only one in her entire family courageous enough to say “Oh No, not on my watch will this pathology continue in my family.”  A lot give up because no one around them really understand what she is going through.

It was apparent to me that my soul was speaking through my poetry. I promise you that I don’t know where the name “the souls’ poet” originated. I know exactly how my pen name “moayik” was created. But exactly when I started calling myself “the souls’ poet”. I spell  souls’ with an apostrophe s because I am a poet to all souls’. I belong to God and Universe. My soul’s mission is to inspired other soul’s to speak.

Mozayik suited me perfectly. I had started to see my value. I was getting a glimpse of  the beauty of  healing on my broken soul.  I became aware of my soul’s mission and agreement in this lifetime.

My trademark “mozayik” butterfly speaks to the transformation of my soul. All the broken pieces of my soul had beautiful purpose. Each mosaic is unique and has its own story to tell. The pieces are made beautiful and whole again resulting in a masterpiece.

On my journey to healing and wholeness I have written poetry. My soul’s expression is poetry. All of us have our own way of giving voice to our soul.  We call it Art. We are called artists. Our artistry is our soul’s expression.

Most of my poetry was penned while tears rolled into puddles formed in the creases in my neck, soaking the pages while the letting of the words took place. I could not stop and wipe my tears. My hand would just write and I really had no idea what I was writing or if any of it made sense because the words manifested release and when the energy to write dissipated so did the energy of the emotion that had lead to the tears.
A weight lifted, I remembered to breath, Enough pain came out to allow me to go on with life. It has been said that pain is fear leaving your body. I am a witness this is a truth.

After some time I would look in my journal at what I had written and see a rhythm and rhyme to the words. The caddance was poetic. Sometimes my mouth would drop open because I could not believe that I had written something so profound. I have written all of my life and have probably read at the very least a thousand books in my lifetime but did not recognize my gift as a writer until my soul started to speak through my poetry in the early 90’s.

It is a long story but the point is, this is my calling. I was born a poet. My poetry is my gift to help facilitate other women’s healing.

Anyway, getting back to the book. I knew it had to be edited before publishing, but everytime I would try to edit it depression would set in and I would head back to therapy. At first I did not see the pattern. It took being diagnosed with PTSD and years of therapy to understand my triggers. Learning how to manage triggers takes practice but it can be done with the tools that work for the individual.
After a lifetime of literally running for my life over and over again I decided something had to change.  I have moved 40 times in my lifetime. (book coming) Mostly after being triggered and feeling like I was no longer safe. It was just a feeling. I learned in therapy that I am not my feelings. That was then, this is now.

Therapy was hard and brutal but the self love, contentment and peace gained from doing the work is worth it. I’m happy and that is something I never thought was possible. I am not a therapist but I have done my work in therapy for years. I have had some phenomenal therapists and I have have some not so good. I can offer an example women can relate to, serving as someone that understands what it takes to actually do the work.

My healing became a life or death situation after being involved with abusive partners over and over, that were violent in one way or another. A few times I did even know it was abuse. Just because someone is not hitting you does not mean they are not violent.

I woke up and saw that I was  the common denominator. I accepted that people will be who they are and there was nothing I could do about it. I had to change. I am still on the journey to change. Being better than I was yesterday is my ultimate goal.
Everytime I could not get it together I  asked God, “What is wrong with me?” There was never anything wrong with me. But it was always about what had happened to me. I was raped at five and the trauma continued my entire life until I decided I could no longer deal with the pain and decided to commit to therapy.

I had to see what the end was going to be. I believe that my healing is a lifelong journey but I wanted to at least get to a place where I could finish my book.

I knew that  book was the gift I had to give away.  Blogging about therapy and the poems in the book as they related to my therapy allowed me to heal while hopefully being an example that therapy will work if you give it a chance.

Writing has always been my saving grace. Using what I have learned from my experience with therapy and writing is my purpose. This is what I was born to do.

I believe I can assist women with giving voice to their pain. I know I can inspire women to seek therapy. I know I can tell my stories about my experience that will encourage women to hang in there and come through on the other side of darkness. There really is a light in our souls. We all have purpose and this is mine.

The blogging is the book. I see that now. It is all so very clear.

Of course there is still so much of my story to tell. My daughter has been encouraging me to write my memoirs. I will.

The Souls’ Poetry is my true story in poetry. I could elaborate more on the poems and posts, but this is the start. This is what my soul has to say. My pain has been given a voice and that brought healing.

It was a long, tedious and tumultuous journey. I did not give up and I want to support and encourage women to commit to healing. I have found some creative ways to make that happen.

My next post will talk about how the blog became the business.

The book “The Souls’ Poetry” has been the impetus.

 

 

 

You don’t get to choose who to love.

You don’t get to choose who to love.
As an advocate of therapy, I often get backlash even from those in the field of helping us to heal, when I say society wont start to truly healing until we look at the entire problem.
We cant just allow the victims to “Heal themselves” alone. I was raped at the age of five and life before then was horrific. I did not get serious and commit to therapy until I was 50. My family did not inquire about my 3 1/2 solid years of therapy. I walked many miles alone taking a total of four busses.
I went to therapy no matter the weather. I walked in the snow, wind chills below zero and the thunder and lighting, because it was life or death for me. I could not bear the weight pain any longer. The stigma of the crazy label didn’t sting worse than the flashbacks and nightmarish symptoms of ptsd.
 
I don’t give anybody a pass or excuse. I just want us to mean what we say. We are quick to say “Hurt people hurt people” but we don’t help ALL of the hurting people. We talk about God’s love that supposedly resides in our souls, but we find it hard to forgive and love those that are the most needing of compassion.
 
I really don’t believe that everyone will make the commitment to heal but I believe if we support healing for ALL we can start to clean up this insidious sickness in our society. Our entire society is in need of healing.
 
Men need to accept responsibility for any behavior that hurts their mothers, daughter’s and all women.
We need to start raising our boys to NOT Rape instead of teaching our daughters how not to be raped.
Also as women we have been taught that it is always our fault and men cant help themselves.
My mother said the reason her boyfriend tried to get in bed with me was because he was drunk and high. I am sure there are completely evil people in our society, but there are also people dealing with the guilt of what they have done. I am not saying pardon them. I am asking to extend some compassion to encourage and support the healing for all.
I think of my three brothers, two of them committed suicide by drinking themselves to death before the age of 38. I tried many times to reach out to my youngest brother but the stigma was stronger than his will to accept my help.
My family referred to me as the crazy sister because I went to therapy. It hurt but I knew that I could only show instead of tell them about therapy. They have all witnessed what therapy has done for me. Many are now seeking therapy for themselves.

2-Edged Sword of PTSD

So, I sit, and I write

There are days when the words are the only thing I can trust. The words allow me to control the amount of trust given. When you have ptsd there are days when there is not one person that you can trust. They could be the most trust worthy person and deserving of your faith in their ability not to intentionally hurt you.

Because of all the many times people have deliberately plotted to take advantage of you it is with earnest effort that a person with ptsd extends any amount of trust to you.

I am intelligent enough to know that nobody is perfect. Being glaringly aware of my own frailties, makes me also aware of the reasons why people do what they do. I live between the logical knowledge of realistically knowing that people just need to be accepted for who they are and the fact that people committed horrendous acts against me when I was at my weakest and most vulnerable.

Craving physical touch but if I can’t trust you when I need compassion the most, how the hell am I going to be able to trust you at all. We are not meant to be alone and I have beyond doubt overcome the fear of being alone by living in this city without my family and friends. I have been able to prosper despite living in a shelter because my environment was hostile and I could no longer trust the very person I  had loved supported to have my back.

The fact is I did not come here to live alone. I landed on my feet. That is what I do. I am a survivor. One of the perks of having ptsd is knowing how to adapt to any situation. Even ones that may appear to be detrimental to you.

I want a partner. I want to make new friends but when I see that they will talk behind others backs and show no loyalty I don’t trust them and I believe that is a logical assessment.  I do wonder, though, if I am sabotaging myself because of the ptsd.

Anger is not far behind that question because then I must use my tools I learned in therapy to get me back to a place of love. Returning to the love space will allow me to trust God and more than that to trust the God in me.

Everyday lately I am wanting to go back home to the tried and true of my family and friends in St. Louis. Trust is so very important in all our interactions with people. I am aware of the different levels of trust, but when people show you who they are…….well you already know.

I am trying very hard not to end up old and alone. Being alone though is how I feel safe, but that is sometimes when I am most vulnerable. I know I need to get out more and make friends. I tried that already. I had to stop talking to a woman because she would put other women down and basically murder other women’s character. She would talk to me disrespectfully and was critical of some of the things that make me uniquely me. I did not feel accepted for who I am. It felt like she wanted me to change so she could be around me. I did not trust her for those reasons. I could no longer take her criticism.

I have good friends and not one has told me to tone it down, so they would be comfortable around me. I admit I am not the usual woman. I don’t believe in fairy-tales. I was raised by some very strong, self-sufficient, and fiercely independent women. So, for some I may come off as harsh. I don’t sugar coat anything.

If you are not straightforward I find it hard to trust you. Being perfect is not what I expect. I just need people to keep it real.

Maybe I need to work on accepting people just the way they are, but I need people to be who they say they are. You must know yourself if want to know someone else.

Anyway, having said all of that. It is hard to trust people. I trust only God and the God in me. Right now, being alone is the safest place to be. A victim is something I refuse to ever again be.

 

The truth is…..

Honestly, almost all of my relationships have been abusive in some way, even my relationships with women. But the scary part is, I did not know it at times.
One day over 25 years ago, while in the midst of a deep depression that had left me unable to function I called the crisis hotline. I wanted to die to alleviate the emotional pain that had become unbearable. Suicide is more about wanting to stop the pain.
The woman on the phone asked me a series of questions, after which she said, “Yvette you are in an abusive relationship.” She said, “Although your husband is not hitting you he is emotionally and financially abusive.”
She gave me some resources for counseling. That is where my healing journey began.
It took many years of stopping and starting therapy before finally making a commitment to see what the end could be. I chose to Love me more than I had been trying to love the people in my life. It has been seven years. I have received a phenomenal return on my investment.
#GirlGetYouSomeHelp

A mother’s thoughts on father’s day “the truth”

It is time to tell the truth.  As a man, a father and a husband you failed all of us.  As your wife you mistreated me, devalued me and abused me physically, financially and psychologically.  As your wife I laid down my life and entire body for your pleasure and happiness.  I literally gave you my soul trying to get you to give me what I rightfully deserved because I was your wife.  the minute you realized that I was waking up to your mistreatment you went into over drive to destroy me.

You vowed to honor, cherish and protect me and you did none of these things.

During my time living with you I was made to feel dispensable.  I gave you children by actually abusing my body with injections from hormones and going under the knife of three surgeries.  I poured everything of me into you, the children, the home and the community.  When I became aware of your abuse and started down the path to healing you refused to do what was needed to save our family.

But I get all the blame and you get all the glory.

When my children put you on a pedestal I am continually traumatized because I want to scream to the top of my voice that this man did everything within his power to destroy and cast me aside as if I was of no value.

Mr. man the father of my children your children should know what you have deliberately done to their mother.

On mother’s day I don’t get cards or presents declaring their love for me at least not until recently that one of our sons took me to lunch and the other promised dinner that I have yet to receive.

You did not teach them to honor me but I taught them to honor you.  Those Father’s day cards they gave you growing up were bought with my money when I took them to the store and told them to buy.

It is time to finally tell my truth about you.  During our marriage you were despicable in your behavior towards me.  I did not deserve what you did to me.  You called me a stupid bitch even before we were married and you treated me like a stupid bitch the entire marriage.  You need to take ownership for the way you treated the woman that risked her live to give you children.

I was a great wife and mother and yes I said great.  I was the reason your children were healthy, smart and protected.  I kept your house clean, I cooked from scratch three hot meals everyday.  All you had to do was go to work and come home.

I did all that I could to make you happy but you still mistreated me.  On mothers day you would not even tell me happy mothers day and that still hurts to this day.  My needs were never a priority.  I gave you my blood and you threw it back in my face.  My oldest child would say to me “Mama why do you bend over backwards to please him when he treats you like shit?” That is when I knew I had to leave you.  I did not want her to think that this is how relationships should be.  My youngest child stood in front of us both and asked you, “Daddy why do you talk to mama like you talk to us?”  in other words a five year old child could see that your treatment of me was abusive.  I was not treated as an equal partner with value.  You treated me as if I was in the way.  I asked you for a divorce and you told me no because you were waiting until the children were 18 and then you were going to divorce me.

I need the truth to be told about your character as a man.  I begged you to go to counseling or to a minister so we could talk about saving our marriage, our family but you adamantly refused.  I told you I was unhappy and you told me that was not your problem.  You always had this tremendous animosity towards me as if I had somehow single-handedly destroyed your life.  You did not own your shity ways.  You set it up so that you got all the credit and I all the blame.

You plotted against me with your lawyer to destroy me “the mother of your children”.  I deserved honor.  I deserved respect.  I needed protecting but you cast me away like old shoes that had become uncomfortable and unsightly.

During the marriage I admit that some of my behavior was confusing but I needed help not judgment and criticism.  I remember lying in bed trying to explain to you that I was having flash backs and memories of my childhood sexual abuse.  Your response was I don’t want to hear that I am not your therapist.  I could fill a book with the disrespecting and demeaning comments you made to me.

I know now that because of the many traumas I suffered in my life I have PTSD and I was being constantly triggered by your abusive behavior and that resulted in my chronic suicidal depression.  I needed help.

Even after all I sacrificed for you, all that I gave to you I was the enemy.

Because you could not control me for your purposes I became something you needed to get rid of as soon as you had used me for your agenda.

You promised to honor me, to cherish me and to protect me until death separated us.  I did everything within my power to stay with you until I realized that you had no concern for my well being.  You just wanted me gone and were not willing to compromise or work on the marriage.

YOU FAILED ALL OF US.  If being the head is what you wanted you failed your family miserably.  You took my children and then didn’t do right by them.  You worked second shift everyday.  They spent weekends with me.  You would not answer your phone during the day. While the children were at school you were unavailable.  I was the parent the school called. I was the parent that attended the open houses and Parent/Teacher meetings.

You may have provided a roof over their heads but you did not really put any time in raising them and teaching the  values they needed to be better off than their parents.

You told them lies to manipulate them and trick them out of opportunities that I worked hard to provide for them.  I moved into one of the top school districts in the country.  They fall number 30 in the entire country.  They were enrolled, had their classes and id’s and would not let them attend.  I had deliberately worked hard to get a home big enough for them to live with me during the week and stay with you on the weekends.  I told you I did not want any money.  My husband and I at the time did not need your money.  You lied on me to them so they would not go to school from my house.  You essentially robbed them of a brighter future.

Your only concern has been how much money would come out of your pocket not your children’s well being.  You made it appear that I left you and the kids.  Nothing could be further from the truth.  You and your lawyer plotted and manipulated me out of the house.  You threatened to quit your job, leave town and burn the house down before you would give me your house or your children.  You were calling my phone and playing the funeral march to scare me out of the house.

The judge ordered you to pay all the bills in the house where your children and I lived so that I could save my money to move out.  You stopped paying and things started to get cut off.  He told you to co-sign for me to get an apartment because of being a stay at home mom and not having any rental history.  You refused to obey and that resulted in me living next door to a crack house.  You did not protect the mother of your children.

You made sure I felt like a stupid bitch.

So yeah, should you be honored?  Were you really a good father?  Hell NO.

I am done with protecting the children from the truth of who their father is.  I have talked positively about you always but you did not deserve it.  The truth is you abused their mother.  You did not protect their mother.  You never honored what their mother did so that you or them could be happy. 

You victimized their mother, forced her out to fend for herself.  You vilified their mother to them. To the world you wanted it to appear that I was the problem, when the whole time behind closed doors you were a complete and utter asshole.

You frequently told me that if I did not like the ways things were that I should leave and you could do it by yourself.  Stupid man that you are you thought you were gaining the upper hand when all along you were just still continuing the abuse of their mother.

I don’t ever remember you taking the children to store or getting a box of crayons to make a card for their mother on mother’s day but I still made sure they honored you.  Not because you deserved it but because I wanted to teach them how to treat people.

You are the stupid one for throwing their mother away.  You are the stupid one for not being grateful to a woman that gave you children and grandchildren.

Yes I had mental illness.  But that makes you look even worse.  You refused to refinance the car so I could afford it and when it got repossessed you went after me.

How did I become the enemy?  I gave you everything you wanted at the risk of my own life but you could see me out in the street?  You did not give a fuck about a woman that gave you everything. Those grandchildren you dote over are because I gave you children.

I tried and I begged you to try to keep our family together.

I will not be saying positive things about your anymore.  I am not being malicious.  I am just telling the truth about who you are.

You are an ungrateful, misogynistic, abusive human being.  You are selfish.  You are and was arrogant to think you could do it all by yourself.  But I have one question.  Who is the mother of your children?  Did you do right by her?  Did you value her contribution to the family?  Did you show your children in word and deed how to treat their mother?