by Band Back Together | Sep 22, 2015 | Jealousy, Loss, Love, Romantic Relationships, Sadness |
Yesterday I wrote to the Band “One Year Ago” about the simple kiss that destroyed my life. Today, I get the news: the man who kissed me just got engaged to his partner over the weekend. The timing, or irony, is not lost on me.
I don’t know why God is punishing me this way. I can barely breathe or see straight from the heartbreak.
I now realize I’ve been lying to myself and everyone. He’s not just a friend. I love him so deeply with all my heart. I am crushed beyond words. I would indeed have left my husband for him. My marriage is already on the rocks because of that kiss, and my husband has no idea why I’m so distant.
Christopher, I truly and honestly love you. Please, please, please don’t marry her. She blames you for the death of the cat, and for so many, many things. She will never forgive you, and marrying her won’t make up for it. I haven’t been able to tell you because you refuse to believe me. My heart is simply bleeding. I am the only person who truly stood by you this past year. Why can’t you see that? Why can’t you believe me?
by Band Back Together | Jun 5, 2015 | Fear, Love, Romantic Relationships, Self-Esteem |
Hello Beautiful,
I know you don’t see yourself as beautiful right now, but you are. One day, you will recognize it and will find your own strength and power in believing that about yourself.
But that’s not what I want to tell you right now.
I know you have your dreams resting on the blond with the dazzling smile. That’s a dead-end dream. One day, he’s going to be in his 40’s, still hanging out with his college frat buddies, getting drunk and playing stupid games. He’s going to move away soon. Let him go. He’s nothing to your future.
But you know the sort of awkwardly cute guy who entertains you in science class when the teacher has his back turned? He’s falling for you. Hard. It will take a few years, but he’ll be head over heels for you when you’re 16.
He’s going to get contacts. Without the glasses in the way, you will forever fall in love with his gorgeous brown eyes, even if it takes you almost a decade to fall in love with the rest of him.
He’s going to stick by you, and protect you, and support you forever, even after you break his heart in high school.
Here’s the thing I want you to remember:
Never
Let
Him
Go.
Ever.
Even when other relationships try to tear you apart, never let him out of your heart. One day, you will wake up to find that you love him more than you ever thought you could love someone. You will see that he is your perfect match in every way. You are so very alike in ways that you never would have guessed, and you will compliment each other in the ways you differ.
He needs you, very much. You have gifts you can use to greatly bless his life. And you need him, desparately. He will heal wounds inside of you and love you like no other. He will cherish you and appreciate you, and you will wonder why you didn’t see it all along.
One day, you will see all the times you both just barely missed the chance to be together. But have no fear. One day it will happen. You will finally have your opportunity to make magic together. It will take a long time, but it will happen. And once he is really yours, you will finally understand what it was you were always looking for.
Chin up, dear, good things are coming.
All my love,
The older, wiser You
by Band Back Together | Apr 12, 2015 | Anger, Anxiety, Breast Cancer, Cancer and Neoplasia, Denial, Depression, Faith, Fear, Hope, Love, Mastectomy, Stress, Trauma |
If you read my profile, you already know that I’m married 23 years with 2 teenagers; a daughter, almost 20 and son just turned 16. Four years ago I was diagnosed with breast cancer, went through a double masectomy, chemo, radiation and reconstruction. I was in remission up until 3 months ago when it was discovered that the breast cancer has returned, in the lining of my stomach, treatable, not curable (1% chance).
This is not to be mistaken for stomach cancer – confusing right?
Needless to say I went through the depression, anger and shock all over again. Only this time it was harder. The optimistic goal of beating it wasn’t as easy to grasp because it had already returned once.
My meds have been changed, my doctor’s visits are more frequent and the side effects more intense. Hotter flashes, sleepless nights and mood swings. I am not always the easy-going, jovial Queen that used to rule this Kingdom. No, I often become that dragon you referred to in the Bands write-up. But I allow myself to breath some fire, release some anger, then I straighten my tiara and return to my throne surrounded by my adoring and supportive family, my riches, my strength, my motivation.
I could fall in the moat tomorrow and get gobbled up by… well whatever lives in moats. I’m not going to let this Cancer defeat me and takeover my Kingdom…
I know I will have bad days but I also know that I will get through them with a little help from my army (my friends and family) …
Today was one of those bad days and then, suddenly, you appeared!
The Band Back Together Project. Thank you for being here.
by Band Back Together | Feb 10, 2015 | Abuse, Adult Survivors of Childhood Sexual Abuse, Child Abuse, Child Sexual Abuse, Loss, Love, Lung Cancer, Parent Loss, Therapy |
This is a letter I wrote to my deceased abusive father. My father died in 2000 of lung cancer. I am now, 46, but as you will see, I always called him “Daddy.” I never matured to the name of “dad” or “father”. My therapist told me to write him a letter and it did help. I just thought I might share it.
Dear Daddy,
You shocked me, Daddy. You had me confused. Since I only visited you once a year, during the summer, and you were my real one and only daddy I would ever have; and boy did I love you, why did you do this?
That first night it happened, I was asleep and the pain awakened me. I’m guessing you felt my body tense up, so you quit and got off my bed. Then, two nights later, you started again. Once again I awoke with a start. This time I faked sleep and rolled over away from you on the bed. This is when the confusion really set in. Because I didn’t know the rules of a father, I wasn’t sure if you weren’t doing a duty all fathers perform. I knew about child molestation already, but I was not sure that applied to fathers, I was so young.
After you left my bed, and you went to bed that night, I woke up one of my step-sisters; whom you raised full-time. I pulled her into the bathroom with me and told her what happened. She just looked at me and shook her head knowingly. You had apparently been doing this to both of my step-sisters for a long time.
That is when it hit me! Daddy, you molested me! There was no so called “duty.” I may only have been a young girl, but I knew right then and there that what you did was wrong; and it would never never ever happen again.
I quit going to sleep before you did. Then, the situation changed to different offenses. I remember walking by the kitchen table where you were sitting, and I was wearing a tube top. You told me to lift it up so that you could see how my breasts were maturing. I adamantly and strongly denied your request. You just seemed to laugh like it was a joke. I was wary of you every day, for the rest of your life. However, amazingly even at that young age, I felt empowered that I did not take the abuse any more. But I still loved you, you were my Daddy.
During the next 20 years I had set my boundaries and kept them. For those 20 years, I waited for an apology. Over the years, I only told a few very, very close, trusting friends.
Then you got sick, Daddy. I couldn’t leave your side and stayed 24/7 at the ICU. My friends, who knew the secret, questioned my loyalty. They kept telling me that I owed you nothing. But you see, Daddy, I still loved you, all along. During those last few days, I thought just maybe the apology would come. It never did, even when you knew you were going to die.
I’ll never forget when the day came that you asked me to unplug the machines and let you go. We both expressed our love for one another. I did as you asked, and then crawled up in bed with you and held you until you died.
I know you did wrong, and I know you knew it too. But I always did and will love you. And I know you loved me.
If I hadn’t empowered myself so soon after the incident, I don’t believe we would have had the life-long love for each other. I believe the fact that you did not say you were sorry upset me more than the abuse. I didn’t realize your death would affect me so much, since you were mean and abusive.
But I love you and miss you Daddy.
by Band Back Together | Feb 4, 2015 | Breakups, Depression, Fear, Guilt, Love, Self Loathing, Teen Self-Loathing |
I’m having trouble getting over my ex-boyfriend, and to be honest, I don’t know how normal it is. I don’t know if something is wrong with me – because it seems eerily like there is – or if this is something most people go through. As this was my first relationship, so I don’t have a basis of comparison.
I met him online, through a mutual friend of ours. When I realized he was dealing with depression, I wanted to help him. I spoke with him almost every day for a couple of months. At some point, he told me he loved me. I stuttered in awkwardness, for a minute, before he explained he meant it as a friend. I instantly relaxed and responded to the affirmative.
The second time he told me he loved me, I took it as the same meaning from before, but it wasn’t. He’d fallen for me, in spite of having a boyfriend of his own. Two days later, he told me he intended to kill himself that night. I kept talking to him until he decided not to go through with it.
The following weekend, I realized I loved him too. The next few days were filled with the duality of trying to keep him alive, and being hit hard whenever I feared for his life. That Friday, I was due to go camping. I told him how I felt about him before leaving for the long trip. My phone died before I could say much, and to my despair, there was no signal at the campground.
In full honesty, that was my worst camping trip ever. I had very few idle moments that I wasn’t repeating song lyrics in my head, with either a headache or stomachache. When I got back that Monday, things were so much better. We talked, and our relationship blossomed.
For the next five and a half months, I thought everything was good between us.
I don’t know when he stopped loving me. I had no idea until he snapped. Everything seemed normal, great even. He had launched into a fit of self-hatred and depression, and I was trying to comfort him. He turned on me in a heartbeat. He started yelling at me, and within minutes, I was in shambles. He wouldn’t talk to me after that.
Despite what had happened I still got him a present for his birthday a few weeks later. I asked him to come back to me, but he wouldn’t. When he found out I had gotten him a birthday present, he seemed angry about it. He had repeatedly told me since the split to leave him alone. I told him I would kill myself.
I picked a day to kill myself. Six days before my chosen suicide date, a friend who had just been released from a mental hospital turned up online. I started to have second thoughts about killing myself. Later that day, I spoke to another friend, and I asked him to stay with me. He surprised me with a show of compassion I didn’t expect from him, and I called off the date.
During my bad moments, I wonder if I should have gone through with it. The first week after being talked out of my original decision, I was mostly fine. I had a surgery that Friday, to get my wisdom teeth out, and that kept me mostly occupied. I didn’t really have bad moments that weekend, nor the following few days.
But over time, things seeped in. I gradually started having bouts of depression, mostly at night. Sometimes I would wish to die, but I never carried through. My friends were always there to support me. I fell back on them many a time, despite feeling like I was dragging them down. Things kept on the bad track for a while. I never physically hurt myself – though I considered it. Even in my happy moments, some aspect of the past would rear its head, and I’d drop again.
I’ve spoken to my ex plenty since. Sometimes it hurts. Sometimes, not often, it doesn’t. Many of my particularly bad downward spirals were triggered by those conversations.
It’s been a month and a half since the breakup, and I’m still fluctuating emotionally. I still love him, I still want him back. He has told me many times that it wasn’t my fault. He has even openly admitted that he used me, but I still feel like it was my fault. I feel like I failed for not being a complicated person like he wants, like I failed by being too clingy and not caring enough. I feel like I was too open, when he wanted me to be a puzzle he could open for himself.
I continue to drop like a rock, despite all reasons to be happy and efforts made to make me happy. The day after Christmas I went to an amusement park. I spent a good deal of my time trying to figure out how to fall to my death from the rollercoasters. I’m ashamed to be spiraling down like this, without a way to stop. I’m even more ashamed to want my ex back even though he doesn’t love me.
Thanks in advance for any advice you could give me, and thanks for taking the time to read my story.
by Band Back Together | Jan 29, 2015 | Abuse, Child Neglect, Fear, Guilt, Help With Relationships, Infidelity, Love, Romantic Relationships, Trust |
Dear Ex,
You did not see it, but my confidence in you stopped growing on a daily basis. I told you that I knew what I was hiding from everyday. I didn’t tell you that I was hiding from you. I didn’t tell you how scared I was of you. I always knew that we weren’t meant for each other, and you wanted to argue.
It is so great to see that you have moved on. So great to know that I have been released. I finally have what I wanted with us. I no longer have to question what I’ve been told. I no longer have to doubt the motives of my kind and nice friends. I no longer have to inspect everyone’s motives.
Is this just another cry for misplaced sympathy? Or is it an attempt to hurt me? The questions are irrelevant. You made sure of that when you abused my love, my trust, my friendship circles, my mind. They are, by far, not the worst forms of abuse that I was put through, but the persistence of them made them the most common.
I told you that you didn’t have to lie. I would stay by your side no matter what. I told you that I would forever hold a place in my heart for you. You tore that place out of my grasp when you decided to work with your friend to abuse me together. You looked at my kindness as a weakness, not for the strength that it is – the strength to give to those that are worth it, the strength to help anyone to heal from anything. My friends will forever be in my life, until death do us part.
I can and have always been able to achieve my dreams. That was the most terrifying part of your abuse, that you had no reservations in ripping all of them away from me, so that you could hurt me. I watched you spiral downward, into an abyss of vindictiveness.
Do you even remember why you started the abuse? Do you remember why you decided to let your dreams fall from your grip, and get fired from the job that you wanted since you were a child? Your abusive attitude lost you that job. It got you fired because you were more interested in self piety than in achieving something great, and being recognized for that.
To this day, I still blame your experiences as a child. I am guessing that no one paid attention when you did the right thing, but the moment you were crying, everyone was looking your way. Being starved for attention does that to a person. It’s not your fault, it is how you were raised. That is what you were taught was right.
I can only hope that you break the cycle of abuse, handed down to you by your mother, before our baby lives a life of toxicity, venom, and a lack of morals. I hope that you choose to change what you believe, and instead, aspire for attention for greatness.
You watch t.v. How many people watch when someone goes for gold in the Olympics? How many people are watching when the finals of X-Factor are shown? Do you want that, or do you want the hollow attention of someone that will forget you in a year’s time? I will forget you soon.
I forgot how it feels to love you a long time ago. I can’t even remember when I last had the desire to help you succeed. It could have been after you destroyed your own dream, the one I tried so hard to build your confidence to try. I hope you haven’t forgotten how to try. If you have, it’s no big deal because I don’t sympathize with you anymore. That is another thing you lost when you went on your vindictive, plague-fueled attack of my life.
You know you should have told me that you were “smiling and happy, bouncing off the walls,” that you had an amazing time, and he really made you feel special, the night you cheated on me. Instead you wanted to play the victim again. You wanted sympathy for the guilt of your actions.
Why did you feel guilty? It made no sense to me. I would have forgiven you, if you had been honest. I could not forgive you for playing the part of the victim when you broke my heart, like I was the one who did something wrong. Lying? Cheating? Your story never added up. The other guy’s story was consistent. You are the only one who can’t face what happened. You are the only one who claims to be the victim. You lost a lot of your friends because of your lies. You lost the last speck of my trust for you.
I felt my heart die when I finally accepted that I was in denial, and there was no reason to believe what you were telling me. I was ashamed that I let you control me again. I was ashamed to the point of not wanting to face life. But I got through it, and you didn’t hold me once. You didn’t sit by me, look into my eyes, take my hand, and say you were sorry, that everything was going to be alright. You withholding compassion, out of fear of the truth being exposed, was the worst part of your abuse. You knew you were lying from the start.
It will happen again and in the years to come. You will repeat the cycle of hiding the truth. You will repeat the pattern handed down to you by your mother. Your life will go back to Square One, and, like your mother, you will be unwanted by everyone.
Yours is the only dream I will not make come true. You fought it too hard.
My deepest condolences for the loss of your heart, empathy, compassion, a happy future, a life filled with people that will love you.
May they all rest in peace.
