Rage, 1993

Dream Journal, February 15-16, 2005

I remember only a snippet of a dream from last night.  I was at home with my mom , and I was concerned because our dog had disappeared.  I was the only one who seemed worried about it.  Anyway, it was night and I wanted to go for a walk.  My mom didn’t want to but I did the whole, “come on, please,” thing, so she did.  It was dark and we were walking in what resembled a nice neighborhood I've always liked.  My mom was the one leading us & suddenly we were no longer outside, but walking straight through people’s homes.  I was pretty alarmed by this, so I said something to my mom on the order of, “We shouldn’t be doing this,” but she just answered, “You’re the one who wanted to take a walk” in a sort of smug, condescending tone (I’m pretty sure she was smiling when she said it).  I felt very nervous about it but I kept following her.  Finally my worst fears happened—we passed through a living room where a woman was sitting on her couch.  She didn’t seem very surprised to see us—she also had a weird smile on her face.  However, she told us that the front door was locked & we couldn’t go through it—we’d have to go out some other way.  That other way turned out to be a dirty, nasty looking oven.  She opened the oven door and indicated we would have to crawl through it.  I don’t remember what happened after this.

I remember wondering at some point during the dream, “Why does everyone have their doors unlocked so that we can just walk right through?”

Notebook, 2015

Truth

“The truth is incontrovertible. Malice may attack it, ignorance may deride it, but in the end, there it is.”

― Winston S. Churchill

Letter, 1998

Here it is: the thought occurred to me over the years that if anyone managed to convince you through words or whatever, that your mother knew anything that was happening, that your mother was "in denial," it is as clear to me as my life is my own, that is totally untrue.  It would be completely and absolutely against my nature.  For anyone else to "assume" that your mother would willingly allow you to suffer, that your mother did not love you, that your mother abandoned you, if anyone has even hinted that to you, they have done you a terrible, terrible disservice.  For they have robbed you of the one thing you deserve (and have): my deep, abiding, unconditional love.  No one who had your best interest at heart would even suggest this.  There was never a time when I would not have protected you, had I known you needed it.  Of that I am absolutely sure.

When you choose motherhood, you will know that to be true.  As humans, we may behave selfishly sometimes, but when a true crisis occurs for our child, something happens inside that goes beyond fear and reason...protecting your child.  There is nothing I would not have done to keep you safe from harm.  Never believe for a second that I would put my welfare above your safety.  Never.  That is my truth and I pass it on to you.  It's the only recurring desire I've had -- to give you this reassurance.

In closing, I hope you won't read anything else into this letter except a sincere desire to offer you the benefits your family can bring, to express my love for you, and to develop a new relationship based on complete and loving honesty.  I will not write again until I hear from you.  

The view from inside

Notebook, 1993

I wanted to suffer quietly and beautifully
but suffering is noisy and deformed
it spits on the sidewalks in front of innocent
bystanders and it makes no apologies
it wipes its nose on its sleeve and it whines
for sympathy it licks the hands of the compassionate
it howls over a broken fingernail
everything reminds it that it exists everything
mocks its existence everything convinces it that it
is ugly it is a freak at a freak show it is
the rotting leftover shoved in the back of
the refrigerator and it makes everything smell
as its final biting and weeping vengeance that
it exists at all.
Apparently quiet and lovely sufferers exist
I've never met one but this is what I am supposed
to be instead I have made myself obvious and
now the fingers are pointed at me.