Intro:
I've always had this weird belief that if I were to write down everything I can remember, it would mean that there was nothing left to share, and the story, my story, would come to an end. Honestly? I'm not sure if that carries with it pure terror or some sort of divine relief.
I'm not going to write this in the conventional manner; I just can't. My stories, as I tell them, typically start at their conclusion and end up somewhere near their beginning but not entirely, because that would be too predictable, too orderly. I am all over the place—chaotic, a mess. At least that's how I've been described over the years. That's mostly how I see myself.
Today, as with most days for as long as I can remember, I feel like I am standing on the edge, gazing into some kind of abyss while contemplating either a bright salvation or the deepest darkness. That's my untreated ADHD (more about the chaos of that later), and I am thoroughly exhausted. Sometimes I wish the scale would just tip so I could either ascend to some greater purpose or just crash out entirely and finally get some much needed rest.
I've had a life. Strange at times, confusing, scary, and maybe also amazing in some ways, but it's certainly been an interesting ride, and if that's all I have to say at the end of the day, I'm fine with that too.
These are my memories, my truths, that have molded me. Others may have experienced these events differently. Here in this manuscript, also lie the tales which I have been told, impossible for me to clarify any further because anyone involved in either the tale or the telling has already passed into Heaven, Valhalla, Summerland, or whatever other name you call that idealistic place your soul ends up after your body has finished this leg of the journey.
Here are the random chapters to the book I'll never write:
Some names may have been changed to shield the innocent and spare me the drama of the criminally unhinged.
- "Asking for my mom."
An answer to a difficult question, or: how I lost two of my kids and almost myself to a narcissistic groomer.
- " Once and again: So long to an old friend."
Sometimes along our healing journeys, we need to say goodbye to those who took advantage of our past weaknesses..
- "Chapter 1: My Father"
I guess this is really where it all began.