I created this blog with the best intentions. I wanted to write and be able to share that writing with the one or two people who might happen to stop by. And then life happened.

Since starting this page, I’ve been through a few major “issues.”

• my dad died. My mother and sister had him removed from life support and then called to tell me they had done so. He died before I reached the hospital.
• my mother decided she didn’t want anything to do with me or my kids. It’s been 18 months since she’s spoken to me.
• one of my sisters evolved from “pain in the ass” to “bitch from hell”. She’s the main reason my mother hates me.
• one of my bosses set out to undermine me and came pretty darn close to completely destroying my self-confidence. She’s moved on to another job where she continues to make others want to die.
• I came to the realization that old friends I had left behind should have stayed left behind (people just don’t change, you know!). I guess it would have helped if I hadn’t look like Shamu when we met in person after 20 years.

And in the process of all this, I sank into a deep depression that left me empty enough to consider calling it quits. It’s a little scary admitting that, even now. Thank God for a husband/best friend who never gave up on me and helped me get things sorted out to a somewhat “normal” life again. And without medication, I might add!

Today I decided to export some emails from one account to another, most of them work related. I have this fear that if I lose these contacts or the info in the emails, I’ll regret it. It’s just easier to hold on to things until you know for sure you don’t need them anymore.

These certain emails are ones I’ve sent over the last 5 years. I saw my replies to the many, MANY demands from that boss I mentioned. Every single time I answered as kindly as possible, but it never did any good. She hated me, but needed me to do the things she didn’t know how to do. (There were a lot of things she didn’t know how to do!) I even discovered how a document I spent hours and hours creating and editing ended up in the hands of a person who changed a couple of words and then shared it as her own work. My boss had forwarded to her. Thanks, boss. The person fancies herself a writer. I wonder who else she copies?

I found emails that reminded me of the time I was accused of not knowing how to do my job, by a person who was mad at me because I wouldn’t let her walk all over me. One day, I’m going to tell the world about that evil asshole. She’s had one daughter arrested already and the other is just as bad. Maybe that’s her own private hell? That could explain why she attacks others. But she’s earned an infamous place in my story. One day.

I found many, many emails I sent to our company’s tech guy. He’s made my life hell since he started with us. From blocking my websites to disconnecting my computer, running me down and lying to my boss and even cancelling an order for software I needed, he’s been on my most hated list for a while now. Reading those emails still makes me mad as hell. His arrogance finally cost him though! I recently got a phone call from a friend in the IT department letting me know that jerk had pissed off too many people and got his ass fired! I went out to celebrate that night!

I think I ‘ll hold on to those emails for a while just to remind myself why I hated that man so much. And the woman with the “sweet” daughters with arrest records. And the worst boss I’ve EVER had.

Yes, I’ll keep them for a while. You see, I’m one of those who wants people to be good and I’m far too willing to forgive. But… I can’t let myself forget.

I have this fear that I am a victim. I imagine have the word written on my forehead for the whole world to see even though I’ve spent my entire life trying to make myself believe that I’m strong, capable, and a protector of others. NOT a victim. MY biggest fear. The evidence seems to be there and yet I continue to deny it! I AM NOT A VICTIM!

And yet.

My emails say I am. The old letters from my mother sneer that I am. The friends who only call me when they need something SCREAM that I am.

And yet.

And yet.

I know my emails, my letters, help me guard my heart against future hurt. But do I really need to guild myself with the pain in those words? I AM strong. And most importantly, I have a family who adores me and I have friends who would show up in minutes if I only asked. Even if I’m not the happy person I would like to be.

I am not a victim, am I? I’m a kind-hearted, loving person who is loved in return.

Maybe I should just hit “delete” and let the words fade away.

I am not a victim.