When this word is mentioned, everyone thinks about the love we see in movies. The happy ending one. The utterly stupid scenarios. The dramatic and tragic situations that always end with the two growing old together.

Well, unfortunately real love is not like that at all. Real love may end before it’s even started. Real love may be all crying. Real love can also mean good times, but we all know good times pass fast. Real love, in most of the cases, does not have a happy end.

Someone used to say real love doesn’t have a happy end, because real love never ends. That’s a point of view too. A childish, immature one, but oh well.

Real love may end with a death. Real love is everything – having as an opposite ‘nothing’. When real love ends, there is nothing left to expect from love. It may also come to an end with a huge fight. That’s very likely to happen. (‘We loved each other so much that we caused a war’). This kind of love may even end with a disappearance. It may vanish without a word or warning. Cause it is real. It can do whatever it pleases.

Real love can live through memories or what-ifs. It may stay alive through a picture, a song, a note, a place, a name, anything. It may keep going subconsciously.

Now what is a soulmate? The cause of what I said above. He’s not ‘your half’, for you are whole. He is the love’s half. It is not the details or the facts about an individual that are relevant in the soulmate theory.

It is not important if you’ve been with that person for a month, 3 years, been married, been lovers, had children, lived together, been classmates. I could bring it to the point where it’s not even important if you’ve ever been together.

What lies at the root of this discussion is feelings, so I’ll end it symmetrically.

How do you recognize the soulmate/the one/the half ? Judge by the feelings. The most powerful one will lead you.

It doesn’t matter if that person is long gone or if you’ve been with 1000 other people since then. It does not matter if you were 16, 24 or 55 when it happened or can’t even remember how it was like..

.. but if you do really find that one.. and realize it.. Hold on to it, cause any other tentative in the future will only be a vague reflection of that, and nothing in the past will ever compare to it anymore.

It is that moment, then.

The way I am has contributed to me losing a lot of things. I have lost friends, relationships and myself. I put college on the back burner and it took me forever to try to go back. I have put myself in unsafe predicaments and barely made a way out.

I refuse to lose anything else due to drama, lies and my own imperfections. I know I push people away. I try to act hard and I refuse help.  I scare myself because I see myself growing old  and alone because of these things. Who would love me like this? No one.  Who could see past all of this? No one. I don’t think I could even date myself.

I could just continue to bitch about it but that does nothing so I need to figure out ways to change it.

I need to love me before I attempt to love someone else. How can I expect someone to love me if I am constantly at war with myself. I should never need someone more than myself. I believe that you can depend on someone but never put full faith into someone. At some point they will always let you down.

I need to learn people are not out to hurt me. I always feel like someone has done something or says something because they are attacking me. I feel like everything is one big “lets pick on Tana” party. I need to see that someone can do something simply for themselves and not need me around or need me at all and be ok with that.

I need to find peace with my past. I need to let go of all the hurt and all the anger. I need to see that people have left me because it was simply their time to leave. No one is bound to me. I can not make them stay if they no longer want to. I can count on one hand the people I trust.  People will leave me and it does not mean that they no longer love me… it’s just best to go.

My heart is breaking because I know what I am capable of. I know that I could be an amazing woman. I know that if I want to be loved and love in return than I must let the anger go. Build a strong sense of personal boundaries.  Surround myself with positive people. Focus on my job and start doing things I enjoy. I would love to start yoga and going to the gym.

Tomorrow starts a new day and I am willing to leave everything behind. I am doing this for me because I am all that I have left.

I tell myself that it will be a daily adjustment and if I try to focus and keep myself busy it wont hurt. I dont see that as being true. I would be lying to myself if I said that. I really am just so shocked and I am praying that I am in a dream.  I felt more in the past couple of weeks than I have in a long time. It was all real to me. For the first time I was scared but knew it would be ok. That it had to be ok. I no longer feel like anything is ok… I am not ok.

I want people to like me even though I don’t care what they think.

 I want to be a better person and love myself  just the way I am.

 I am proud of who I am and wonder who I am .

I long to be more patient or just have the annoying people disappear.

I believe we should trust one another but wait until it has been earned.

 I have been hurt by others I forgive them for being themselves.

I listen to your problems It helps me to forget my own.

 I believe I can love forever I take forever one day at a time.

 I sometimes feel alone even when others are there.

I wish for change I believe happiness is accepting things as they are.

 I want to be everything someone needs I reassure others that it’s all worth it, Privately I wonder if its worth it.

I’m just like you I’m nothing like you I’m just like you

Our lives begin to end the day we become silent about things that matter.
- Martin Luther King, JR.

I really have no particular direction with this blog other than to vent how I feel my life is now.

I am lost.

I just feel like everything I thought was real or everything that held some kind of substance has been taken from me. I often wonder could there have been some sort of preventative medication or some all-powerful magic band-aid to heal all the pain. I can’t find anything that seems to make my life seem normal.

I wish I was clairvoyant.

I wish I could see beyond the past and my hardships and rise from the ashes like a phoenix; bold, beautiful and wise. Yet, as always I like to make shit hard on myself. I am so self-destructive. I find comfort in my chaos because when shit starts going well its only a little while before something goes wrong. I anticipate the negative things.

Why do I keep doing this to myself?

I keep telling myself not this time. I am a habitual liar to myself. I tell myself I will do something and I don’t. Example: I am not going to let myself get upset and have a bad day because I can’t control how someone else feels. I mean whats the point really? I can’t change it so why bother. I hate having this feeling like I have done something wrong. I also have this fear that I have pissed someone off or I am always going to be in trouble. I think I am just paranoid.

I also keep telling myself I will become the person I know I can be. I can be honest with myself. I can see the person I am and face it head on and not fear myself. People say that they fear others judgments, truth be told I fear my own far worse. I know myself, I know what I am capable of.

Goals?

I always try to set goals. Simple ones to start with and some long-term ones to work at. My long-term goal is to become more healthy. I would like to exercise more and eat healthier. I would also like to learn to eat sea food. I don’t eat ANY kind and I really ought to. I would also like to help myself see my worth and what I am capable of. I have forgotten some of my best qualities; my loyalty to myself and others. I became relaxed and put down my shield and have allowed little things to upset me. This can no longer happen. I have surround myself with people who have seemed like they cared about me but never really stuck it out. I will find better friends.

I would also like to evaluate the kind of person I let people see me as. People see me as the talkative, overly expressive girl. That’s not a true representation of the person inside that’s just me masking my emotions. I would like to sit at dinner and just listen to others speak. I would like to play my role as an observer. I would like to be held accountable for my wrong doings. It’s when people let the little shit slide it becomes one big problem. I would rather handle it all now.

I would like to become comfortable with myself. I would like to accept that this is my body and I am beautiful; every curve, dimple, and scar. They all are apart of me. I would like to learn how to appreciate what I have been given as opposed to lingering on what I do not. I would like to make sure that I am fulfilling my financial obligations. I would like to work on becoming independent again. I believe that in a “partnership” like a relationship it is ok to become one. It however (as I learned)is not ok to just put down everything and just say “OH HEY! yeah, that’s cool take care of me! I will just play the house wife.” I would like to be more hands on with how my life will play out in a relationship.

Conclusion.

I think there is something I have always grazed the line with. I am open about my life,my struggles and adversity. I however am learning that sometimes its best to save something for yourself. I would like to become more of a low-key private person. Drama could not exist because I would not entertain it. I would like to take this time to work on myself, my relationship with family and friends and just work in general lol.

Have a great day

]]> http://tanaspeaks.wordpress.com/2010/03/09/3-09-2010/feed/ 0 Talking Tana http://tanaspeaks.wordpress.com/2010/01/08/lotus/ http://tanaspeaks.wordpress.com/2010/01/08/lotus/#comments Fri, 08 Jan 2010 13:08:38 +0000 Tana http://tanaspeaks.wordpress.com/?p=122 ]]> Like the lotus (water lily), my life began in the muck and mire of abuse. Through the healing process, I have found freedom from my past, and I have made it my life’s mission to make lots of lemonade from the lemons that life threw my way. . .

Like the lotus, I have found life beyond of the muck and mire of my beginnings.  Sometimes I wonder…  Will I ever be able to let someone love me? 

I have alway felt a bit concerned at how I would harness my abuse.  It is easy for me to sit here and give you the “laundry list” of events. I’m Desensitized. I no longer feel connected to that aspect of my life. I however, suffer from the Post Traumatic Stress (PTSD).

I have never been ashamed of being abused. It was not my fault and I know that. I am however ashamed of the person I have allowed it to make me. Better yet what I have allowed myself to become.

 Is it possible for me to let someone love me and not NEED to have sex with me?

This is my biggest problem. I once read a book called “The Five Love Languages” to save my relationship. The book helped me to come to terms with some of my issues.

Physical Touch… A person whose primary language is Physical Touch is, not surprisingly, very touchy. Hugs, pats on the back, holding hands, and thoughtful touches on the arm, shoulder, or face–they can all be ways to show excitement, concern, care, and love. Physical presence and accessibility are crucial, while neglect or abuse can be unforgivable and destructive

I am ashamed of my need to express myself in a sexual way. Yes, I was adpopted and was loved in the “correct” way but by this time I was already in my adolescent years. I was “set in stone”.  I find it hard to allow someone to make love to me. It is almost as if I want to do it… enjoy it.. and get it over.  I am scared of the emotions that come with it. It is one thing to enjoy sex, it is another to feel emotional about it.

In college I was a very sexual person. Just like every other person I enjoyed the sexual jokes and the play on words.  I would find myself sleeping with many women not because I had needs, but because someone else needed me.  As if I was there to give a service.  I tell people all the time when you have sex with someone you are giving someone a piece of you.. what happens when you have given out all of your pieces? What is left of you? I never though about using this for myself. I never let anyone touch me. I liked that I was in control in what happened. If I liked them enough I would give them a “piece”.  It’s twisted and sick to look at it like that and to think about it in terms like that but its my life and my “pieces”.

This is probably the hardest thing for me to come to terms with. Keep in mind that I have already allowed myself time to think about how I will feel if someone knows this about me. I am aware that BLASTING myself online is risky. I do not care. I write so that I can heal. I heal so that I can help others. I help others so that I can be at peace with myself. I would never admit or tell you, god or the internet something that I was not willing to stand up and admit I said. With that being said…

There have been times whole dating someone I felt rejected if they did not want to have sex. Be it they are tired or just not in the mood. I felt unloved. I did not know any other way to convey my feelings towards them… I still dont. I show my love by my touch. I hug you or I kiss you. If you have ever spoken to me you may notice I may touch your arm while I speak to you. This is a way for me to “bond”. I have beaten myself up a million times over the fact that I am such a sexual person. I make sexual jokes and I can make the simplest and cleanest thing dirty. It makes me sick to be able to admit these things and yet not refrain from doing so.  I just laugh it off.

What happens when I meet someone and they want to prove to me they love me… without sex and all the things that start to complicate a relationship. Will I feel wanted? Can they make me feel wanted by a hug or a kiss and it just being simply that? Can I date someone who will force me to see that I can be made love to and not feel like I am being punished and made to enjoy it? I enjoy sex. I can fully admit this. I can admit if I am in a relationship and we have “lost touch” with that side of our relationship a void shows up.  Truth be told, I would rather someone rub my back to sleep than have sex with me. Why is it I feel the need to be sexual when I am capable of an intellectual conversation… I am clever enough to make someone fall for me for more than just sex as a reason.

I fear that I am so “sexually developed” from being abused. I fear that because of that I am sabotaging myself and a relationship I ever want to have. I want to be loved. I want someone to be able to hold me at night and that just be ok. I want to know that they love me and not feel the need for sex as a way of showing this…

I really do not have anything positive to say. I am just shell-shocked at how this haunting me. I would figure that people who have been abused to the degree I was would just detest sex! Some do but others go into jobs that are sexually related. No I am not saying that all strippers and shit like that ARE strippers because of it… (though the numbers are extremely high) I am saying that I could have gone down that path .. If I had a body like that. (see another way of deflecting..)

I am done for now. I really just dont know what else to say besides I am sorry to anyone who I have ever made uncomfortable with my overly sexual jokes or anything I may have said. I think this is a goal I will set in place for myself… new year, new Tana!

( Forgive all typos and errors. I really could careless at this point.)

-Tana

 Maria and myself are no longer together. . . We had many great years together and I am blessed to have met her. She is like my best friend.

A small part of me wished I could sit here and say how horrible she was but that would be a lie. We both made some mistakes, but we are trying to heal. It is hard for me to do something and someone ask where she is or how she is. To be honest I can’t tell you I see her rarely. I love her in ways I can not express and I would do anything for her. I know she feels the same. We are just not meant for each other anymore.

I want to be honest with my friends and with my family. You all read this so it makes it easy for me to share without feeling like I have to rip myself open again just to get these words out. I really can not even think of anything to say. I have sat here for an hour trying to figure out how to say it… I can not think of anything but – we are not together.

We are still friends. We are not mad at each other, but like every couple that splits we need time apart. If your close enough to me in my life then you have known about this. It hurts me more so to tell my family. My grandparents adore Maria.

I am sad yes, but I am starting to become ok with this idea. I can now see that this is for the best and I am ok that I have seen this coming. I am blessed that it is ending like this and not in a horrible way.

Thanks.

- T

“If we discover a desire within ourselves which nothing in this world seems to satisfy, then we should begin to wonder if perhaps we were made for another world.“

-C.S. Lewis

I FEAR…

* I will not have enough time to do what I need to do in this life.
* I fear the cold side of the bed where my heart once laid.
* Never growing old.
* Never making someone proud of me.
* I fear being alone while I take my last breath.
* My doors not being locked.
* What’s in the dark that I can not see.
* The closet door being open while I am in the bed.
* The company of a man.
* I fear my death.
* Never being able to say “I love you” again.
* Being hated.
* Getting lost!
* Not being able to breathe.
* Tight spaces.
* Gas stoves.
* Silence.
* Losing my “grandparents”.
* Dying in pain.
* My book not being finished.
* My life not touching someones.
* Drinking the last sip of soda in the bottle (spit) ew.
* Sleeping in a car while someone is driving!!!
* Being in a dream and it being scary and me not being able to wake up.
* Sleeping at night.
* Not being pretty enough.
* Clowns.
* Spiders.
* Pushing away love.
* Never hearing someone call me “Mommy!”
* My heart skipping a beat.
* I have a fear of the past coming back.
* I have the fear of someone not loving me back.
* Disappointing the people I love.
* I fear hurting the people I love.I fear not knowing whats going to happen when its
time for me to say bye…

I fear I am at my end and I am alone…

This year I will sit at home alone and watch The Christmas Story, have my good cry and go to bed. To you that may sound shitty but to me its one more day I am alive, one more day I am out of being abused. It means I completed a year without attempting to hurt myself.

My Christmas’s in the past have always had some of the weirdest events take place. When I was six I was in the hospital the month of December with pneumonia. Then when I was seven my mom and dad caught the tree on fire. When I was eight my mom and dad had “split” and were on a break from each other so there was not going to be a Christmas. I was sad but I always had my Nana’s house ( mom’s, mom.) I will admit that year was by far one of the best Christmas I can remember under the age of thirteen. My mom was in the kitchen and I heard the doorbell ring. I screamed for my mom and she ran to the door. There was no one there, just a box and a basket. My mom handed me the basket and grabbed the box. Inside the basket there was a card that simply said “Merry Christmas.” My mom looked puzzled I was to busy rustling with the box to care. As I started to uncover the contents of the box I felt my little heart beat! It could be anything! I finally got the tap off the box and inside I found the best gift ever for an eight year old! A Super Nintendo!!!!!! Not only that but I had the Aladdin game! (To this day that is my favorite game.)

Now, don’t get me wrong it’s not like I didn’t have things at Christmas. I was an only child but I came from an extremely dysfunctional family. My moms family has always been what is considered is “loaded.” I would say its old money and from what I hear that’s the best kind. My mother, bless her heart was the black sheep of her siblings. My mom has eight brothers and sisters so she is use to big holidays. Every year we would go to my Nana’s house and open gifts and eat wonderful food all day. I loved when we would go because my mom would get so dressed up. I adored my mom she had beautiful ivory white skin, charcoal black hair with the most piercing green eyes. I looked nothing like her. I did however and to this day look like my Nana. Same curly hair ( yes I have extremely curly hair I have to straighten this shit everyday!) same olive skin tone, but better than all that the same sense of humor. My Nana was a tell it how you see it kind of woman. Christmas was her favorite time of year. So much that later in life she would die around Christmas. She wouldn’t have wanted it any other way.

Being that my mom had so many siblings that was bound to bring a lot of cousins. My Nana always started shopping for Christmas the day after Christmas lol. She would collect shit over the entire year just to give it to you that Christmas. Each grandchild world get up to six or seven gifts from her. The fact that there was like 50 of us to shop for must have been horrible. She had a gigantic tree that was always beautifully decorated. Around it were walls packed with gifts,sorted out by my aunts and uncles. My mom and I would walk over to our corner and open our gifts. My mom had some weird love for make-up (she passed that on to me) so my Nana always gave her one of those huge make-up kits. I would get clothes and toys and money. I loved being here. I had all of my cousins and family. I am sorry to say that since my Nana passed away a few years ago my family hardly speaks. We were held together by my Nana. She would cook and make us all come over just to spend time with her.

Before my Nana passed away I was able to see her for the first time in years. I was now with my new “Grandparents” and they were more eager to meet her than I was. (since I am talking about the holidays I want to skip parts but it was hard for me to go back to her house. That house has some horrible memories in it for me but this is one of the better ones.) We pulled down the infamous long driveway to her house. I opened my door slowly, I was nervous. I walked to the door like I had many times before and I knocked. I had never in my life knocked on this door. If you knew my Nana you would know her grand kids were her life. “COME IN!!!” I heard her voice. I opened the door and there she stood like she had stood many times before. On the ledge of the wooden floor to her kitchen. I remember that ledge well. She would not let us drink anything in the living room so we would have to sit there lol. I walked in and to my left I saw my Pap Paw (grandfather) I hugged him but it was very quick. It was almost uncomfortably quick. ( my book explains why) I walked towards her. I hugged her so tight. I missed her. I had missed her dark curly hair and the way her house always smelled of amazing food. How her laughter warmed my heart, but more so than anything that she for the first time made me feel like she loved me.

Because of my moms relationship with my family and what my father had done, it made it hard for me to see family. After my father went to jail I would visit my Nana but it never felt the same. As we sat there my Nana brushed her hand across my face and told me how beautiful I was and how she felt like she was looking at herself. “I see you grew out of your baby fat!” Just like her to be honest. It was true I had grown out of my baby fat! I had boobs! I was 14 and she had not seen me since I was 10. She brushed her fingers through my hair and told me how long it was getting. She was for once admiring me. I had never been on her favorites list. She had a group of my cousins she adored! She asked me if I wanted anything to eat or drink I said no.She said she made my favorite and that she would pack me some to take home. Her spaghetti is by far the best spaghetti I have ever had in my life. My cousins and I can agree to this day that my Nana was like an angel of foods. (she was a chef in her younger years) After sitting there a moment she began to talk to my foster-adoptive parents. (Jan and Paul) They talked about me in school and how I am doing with life. After what seemed like forever my Nana looked at me and said she had years worth of things to give me. I was nervous.

One by one the gifts came. I could not believe it. I had every boy band and girl group cd made at that time! I had more Hello Kitty things than I could handle. She had bought me gift after gift, after gift! i told her thank you and hugged her tight. I missed her. I would have held her tighter had I of known this would be the last time I saw her alive.

I did not speak to my family very much after I was placed into foster care. They had nothing to do with me. I did not matter to them. Regardless of what they say now and have continued to say I know they did not care. Had they of cared I would have never been placed in such horrible foster homes. I am grateful to them for not caring. If it was not for their lack of love of a CHILD I would have never found what I call my family now.

One day while in the 8th grade I was eating lunch with the normal group I always sat with. I am happy to say that I speak to at least one of them a day (to this day). On a back note like I said before my family comes from old money and my family is well-known in Paulding County. My uncle built the Cotton Gin and if it was prom and you were not there then you were out of the cool club lol. I went to school with my cousin. Daniel was the well-known redneck in school. He played football and dated the hottest cheerleader. (Devon) A year before that his brother Kenny ruled our school with his ever so charming good looks. It made me sick.How can you be family with someone and see them and not speak to them… anyways. I was eating lunch and Devon (Daniels girl friend) walked over to my table and said “I am so sorry about your loss. I know you all loved your Grandmother very much!” I looked at her like she had lost her damn mind. ” Daniel was so upset. Are you meeting them at the service?” My Nana had died…. my family could not even tell me. This is how I found out.

I ran to my teacher and told them I needed to call home. I walked to the front desk and told the assistant to please look up my aunt Lisa’s number (Daniels mom who was a bus driver for our school). My spoke to my aunt and asked her if it was true. She started to cry and said that Nana had died and they had no way of letting me know. ( Besides seeing my family everyday in school I thought this was complete bullshit!) She told me the service was today at 3:30pm. It was already 11:45am. What in the hell was I going to do. I frantically called my foster dad (Paul) and told him what had happened. He told me he was on his way. I later found out he had dropped what he was doing to come get me. He left his lunch sitting on his desk.lol. When he got to my school it was already 1:45pm. He worked in Atlanta so it was a hike! He was already ready since he wore a suit to work. We ran by our house I changed and put on the black dress I had worn to see her for the first time in many years. I never wore this dress again.

As we pulled up to the service I thought I was going to be sick. Not only was I going to see my grandmother dead but I had to see all of my family. My mother was not even there. I had not seen my mother in years I was hoping she would be here. As soon as I walked in everyone turned around. “Oh doesn’t she look just like her mother.”  and more whispers “You know I think she looks like Nana.” I wanted to turn around and leave. “TANA! Oh, Tana you made it.” I felt my aunt grab me and hug me. My aunt had seen me many times since she was a bus driver for the school. She would check on me every once in a while at school. ” Come and see Nana she looks beautiful.” It’s true, she did. Her hair was in their normal beautiful  locks of curls and her skin was pale with a hint of rose on her cheeks. I leaned over and kissed her cheek. I felt a tear drop. While writing this I feel a tear drop now. I think about how growing up and my mom had to be placed in hospitals that my Nana would let me stay with her. She would make me my favorite. Fried Bologna sandwiches for breakfast.(I no longer eat that lol the thought of them make me sick) Or how she would yell for me. “TANA CLARA” or the infamous “LITTLE TANA!!!” ( I was called little Tana because I have an aunt whose name is Tana. I am still referred as Little Tana *sad face*)

As we followed to the plot she would be laid to rest I thought about grief and losing people. I just got her back and she was gone. It’s like she held out long enough to see me and then she left. It was so hard to be reunited with my family for this reason. Did losing her mean we would be together? She was the glue to that side of my family. My holidays have never since been the same. I still have the flowers from her funeral. I placed them in a beautiful frame with the picture I have of me and her from that Christmas. With it is her name and her birth date and when she died. My middle name is Clara, after my Nana. I miss her so much. I know she is so proud of me now.

** I am now 22 years old and I still have the Hello Kitty notebook she gave me. I refuse to write in it. Maybe ill put it to great use one day **