How Do You Say I Miss You To Your Molester?

This isn’t where I’m at today

I don’t even know how to handle writing this post. But it’s something that I can’t seem to get out of. I saw a movie of mine that is the closest a movie has gotten to my family. They are dysfunctional, fucked up, and the grandfather is the closest to my grandfather.

Manipulative, cruel, messed up, very few glimmers of goodness. Besides, him trying at the end to reconcile. And that leaves a bad taste in my mouth because it makes me miss that. We never did that. He knew for two years he would die and instead of getting better, like Royal in the movie, he just got worse.

So much worse.

I find my poetry going back to scenarios I hate. Going back to questions I don’t want. Like the sickness I feel for my favorite grandparent being the man who molested me most of my life. Starting at a very young age, until he died with my family taking care of him 24/7 as caregivers in our home.

I was nursemaid to my molester.

Chew on that for awhile.

I try not to go too deep into my life. I don’t know whether this blog should work as a journal, just an update to follow me on my author journey and poetic journey, or if this is a megaphone to scream out listen to your children!

I guess today it’s that question lying heavy on me. As well as some news kind of rocking my world in a really, really terrible way. I look so normal on the outside when all this shit happens. I get panic attacks, anxiety, depression, and a hormonal syndrome that boosts my suicidal issues and depression and anxiety and puts mental health in a pot.

I get asked a lot why am I an advocate for mental health?

My grandma tried to kill herself so many times.

My other grandma was put through electro shock for severe depression before my mother was born and lost huge amounts of her memory from that.

And all this is hardly even spoken about? Why? Mental health just means buck up. Batten down. Be better. Put your big britches on.


Sometimes the best thing you can ever do in this world is just say I’m not okay. Today, I’m near not okay. I reached out to a dear friend and aired out some fears. They said what I know but what anxiety, fear, and being overwhelmed won’t listen to. I need to take care of myself. And so here I am, knowing the way, but not knowing how to stop shaking.

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