Rainey Daze and Crazy Nights

Poetry, Paintings, and Ponderings: Through My Eyes

Peace December 25, 2013

I know that it is difficult for many to make it through this time of year (myself included). Just know that you are not alone in your feelings, and that there is a brighter and better tomorrow. Take a deep breathe and take it one moment at a time. If being around relatives is difficult, just remember: YOU control how you feel. Do not give others that power. Do not allow yourself to fall into the trap of being reactive.

If you are alone (not by choice) try volunteering at a soup kitchen or shelter. You will be lifted by what your kindness can do for others.

I wish you all peace, love, and joy this holiday season.

 

Us December 9, 2013

Filed under: about me,all,Poems,poetry — rainey46 @ 8:21 pm
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Your words

taste like sweet honey

as they slowly drip down upon me

Your lips

speak of love and promises

and our beautiful future together

Your hands

cup my breasts

thumbs teasing me with soft circles

but,

Your eyes

give you away

inwardly gazing on the hollow truth

my eyes

refusing to see

closed to what they reject.

images (3)

 

 

Time For Big Girl Panties July 8, 2013

Okay, I’m putting on my big girl panties. It’s time to get back  up, brush myself off, and give this life of mine another shot. I may be down, but I am never down and out for long.

It doesn’t mean I’m not still hurting; I am, believe me. I still hurt in my heart every single day for Riley. I still hurt for J and all of her problems. But I cannot function this way for long. I am, by nature, a very upbeat person. I see the beauty in small, everyday things. As bad as my life seems to get at times (lately it has been very bad) I must find the good and rise above it all.

I still feel depressed. It is not the overwhelming, clinical depression I sometimes feel (Thank God)! When the clinical depression is out of the picture, I can overcome. It is just a matter of my mindset and my attitude.

So today, I choose to live and be happy.

 

Anymore July 6, 2013

Filed under: about me,all,Poems,poetry,writing — rainey46 @ 1:32 pm
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pain seeps through your pores

poisoning the air you breath

my heart breaks

because I can’t reach you

anymore.

 

your once radiant smile

disappeared with your heart

my heart breaks

because my love’s not enough

anymore.

 

I Took Back My Power From the Rapist June 9, 2013

 

TRIGGER WARNING: Rape

It’s strange how J mimics my own life in some ways. I wish it wasn’t so.

She saw her rapist at the grocery store.

The same grocery store where I saw mine.

Years ago, as a very young and wild teen, I was gang raped by “friends”. Long story….I know I wrote about it already, but I don’t feel like searching for it to create a link. Maybe later.

A year later, I moved on. I made all new friends, cut my ties with that so-called group of friends (all of them, not just the ones who raped me). I literally moved on to a new boyfriend (who became my husband) in a new town. The first town is about a 35 minute drive to the town I moved to. I grew up, married, had kids, and became a teacher. My life moved forward, but my soul did not. Just as I did with the molestation I endured as a child, I covered it up and pretended it didn’t happen. If I don’t think about it, it can’t hurt me, right? Or so I thought.

One year, one of my students happened to be this weird little dude I will call Paul. I taught fourth grade, and some little boys having a crush on me was the norm; it goes with the territory. After a week or so, they usually get over it and fall for a more appropriate love interest, like the cute blonde with freckles who sits next to them in class. Paul, however, persisted to fawn over me all year. Like I said, a weird little dude. I met his mother several times during conferences and we laughed together over his strange infatuation with me.

At the end of the year we had a big awards ceremony. The day before, Paul gave me a strange smile and said,”My dad is coming to awards tomorrow.” I was slightly shocked,  as Paul’s dad had not attended any events that year. In fact, Paul NEVER talked about his dad, so I assumed he was a very un-involved parent. Then Paul said, “My dad knows you.” He giggled and ran off.

I truly didn’t think anything of it until the next day. I was standing in my classroom when Paul’s dad, my old friend and rapist, stood in my doorway. Time stood still as our eyes met. The world around me faded away and all I could see where those eyes in the darkness. I was unable to blink or breath until he smirked and turned away. He told his son he would see him at the ceremony and then he was gone. When I was able to move again, I looked at Paul, who stood there, staring at me, with that same smirk. Like he knew.

Somehow I got through that day. I pulled Paul’s records and realized I lived one street over from my former friend. We lived one street apart and I never knew until that day.

But he knew. He knew the whole time that I was Paul’s teacher.

That summer I saw him again. This time at the grocery store. I left my groceries in the cart and walked out.

It began to eat away at me. I couldn’t sleep without nightmares. I began spending most of my waking hours doing the “What If” game. What if I had pressed charges. What  if I called him out in front of his wife. What if…

Finally I realized this was very counter-productive for me. I had to take my life back. I could not run from this anymore. A few days later, in the same grocery store, I saw him. I followed him. When he saw me, the blood drained from his face. I was angry and I did not look away. I would not back down. I took back my power when I looked him in the eyes and loudly said, “Fancy meeting you here. Does you wife  know you are a rapist? Does she know how you gave an under-aged girl drugs until she passed out, so you and your sick friends could rape her?” I saw true fear in his eyes for the first time. In that moment, I got my power back. He and his fear no longer controlled me.

Life is funny. That was years ago, and I have not had a chance encounter with him since. He still lives one street away, but it no longer haunts me. In fact, I hadn’t thought about him and those events in a long time.

I wonder how long it will be until J gets her power back.

 

 

Life Goes On June 1, 2013

TRIGGER WARNINGS

She refused to do anything about the rape. After that day, she didn’t want to talk about it. J is  much like me in her ability to bury things deep inside. It kills me to see her do that, because I know what burying secrets does to you. The secrets come out at night and haunt your dreams. They creep up randomly in the middle of the day and make you unable to breathe. Secrets that you keep buried eat away at your soul, swallowing it bit by bit. Trust me, I know.

But burying secrets is a way to survive and keep living. It is a coping skill; a bad one, but a coping skill nonetheless. I was once gang raped by a group of guys who I thought were my friends. I was drunk and high on drugs, so the next morning I buried it away. After all, I put myself in that position. It was my fault. Those were the thoughts I had at the time, so I pretended it didn’t happen. Even when I saw them later in the week, I pretended nothing was different. Inside, I felt dead. I continued doing drugs and drinking heavily for a few more years. I attempted suicide several times. When I wasn’t attempting suicide, I lived as recklessly as I could. Dying seemed better than living.  I was in a bad place for a long time. It was years before I could grieve and even admit to myself that I was raped.

I worry so much about J. She carries so many wounds and she is not tough like I am. She feels every little jab deep in her heart. She is so trusting, yet she keeps getting hurt. J is a good, loyal person with a heart of gold.  She trusted that when she said no, he would listen. It wasn’t a playful, ambiguous no. She was crying. She meant it.

My anger is still boiling. She begged me not to tell anyone, not even her dad or sister. So I have another secret that I must carry, because when I make a promise I keep it. I do not know what will happen if I run into him somewhere. In this small town, it is bound to happen. I know where he works. I could easily find out where he lives. I lay in bed at night and dream up scenarios of what I would do to  him if I could. I will not share with you what my twisted mind concocts because it frightens me to think I can even  dream of such terrible things. But she is my baby, no matter her age. She is handicapped mentally and he took advantage of that. To me, that is more inhumane than the horrors my mind creates.

I am here, drinking my coffee and beginning my day. J spent the night with a friend and is planning her best friend’s wedding. The birds are chirping and the sun is rising. Life goes on.

 

No Means No May 27, 2013

She was raped. That son of a bitch raped her last night. I am boiling with fury and probably shouldn’t be allowed to blog right now but I have to let it out somehow or I will hunt him down and cut off his dick. If you are offended by my language then please don’t read this post. I am seriously trying to keep from going after him. I do not need to go to jail, because then who would she have? Her dad, who lives in la-la land? Or her sister, who gets angry every time J’s bipolar/anxiety prevents her from being “normal”?

I have always joked that if someone raped either of my daughters I would take him in a house and nail his dick to the windowsill. I would then set the house on fire and hand him a knife and tell him, “You get to choose. My daughter did not.” I thought I was joking. Now I know I was not. I want to inflict terrible pain on him. I want to see him beg for mercy. How could that son of a bitch do that to her? She is already so fragile….years of work probably undone because he wanted to get off.

To think, this was a “nice boy” whom I knew and LIKED!!! It wasn’t one of the losers she found on the dating sites (nothing against dating sites, but J is known for picking losers and it never turns out well); this was a “local” guy who seemed very earnest and straight-forward. My heart is broken for her. She will not press charges because they will never stick. And I agree; they will not stick.

J told him no. Forcefully. Repeatedly. But she did not fight. She did not scream for help. She kept saying no and crying but did not stop him. My guess is because of her incredibly low self-esteem she just let him finish. She was so hurt and confused when she told me. My poor baby.

No means no.