The Best Unread Blog EVER!

If you live in Asheville, it may be considered libelous for me to ask that you read this. So, as a favor to me – don’t. Or do, whatever. No names, no libel. If you’re not comfortable with it, well – consider it metaphor in avant garde art form. Whatever works for you.

Sorry about all the clouds…I am going to work on documenting some of the other small things I have been working on. Some crochet, painting, little paper cranes folded from the JailBirds newspaper. I am pretty burnt out on the clouds, too. Thank goodness it is solid grey today.

Also, my apologies for language usage. And for being desperate and lame. Whatever.

show details 2:25 PM (17 hours ago)
Well, great. This is really unbelievably ironic. Unbelievable. (Current: I forget the exact nature of the irony…I think I might have meant to say awful.)

I have spent the last several months trying to come to terms with some hard truths about myself, my family…and finally, the sky and this mess it witnesses so quietly.

I can’t even write this down, but I guess I ought to. Full disclosure, right?

“Well, I am still thinking about it. I mean, you obviously…”

Why in the world would someone willingly choose to see their kids’ mom as unworthy of custody for no good, real reason.

Piddling misrepresentations and presumptuous arrogance…

“Have you spoken to them about how they feel about the claims you are making, that they feel ‘unwelcome’ and what not?” (I said this.)

“Well, no – I mean they’re six and eight.”

I can’t write about this.

The bottom line is that…

I love my kids. Though he may claim otherwise. What kind of jerk tells someone they don’t love their kids? “No. No you don’t. You love only yourself.”

Of course, he decided a long time ago that he knew the score on me…of course, he was completely wrong about most all of my truest truths. I can’t stand that it has gotten to the point that I feel as if I have to defend myself here – on this potentially fully public forum.

I can imagine he would be quite upset if he knew of these words being drafted. I do not wish to slander him…I have always tried to uphold him, because…well, because I wanted the kids to feel that their father is a good man. And because I am scared of him…he is one of the meanest people I have ever met. To me.

From what he gleefully tells me, he is Mr. Great all around town…what-ever…fine. All I know is that, to me, he is exceedingly cruel. There are few things that rival the dismissal of a woman from her role as primary caregiver, as mother. Particularly when I am a pretty decent mom.

I really don’t know what else to do at this point. The kids are okay. They spend less and less time here. The boy didn’t even come out to the field to give me a hug. He saw that I was outside and he went back in. That was about a half hour ago. I can’t let myself get upset, because that just causes problems. Wooden writing and then I am just going to busy myself in some way, possibly by going back to bed…

See, their father had a house built two lots over from this one…

I wish he would consider the fact that he is lucky I have not shit-talked him the way he has me…except to former co-workers…and they really just had no idea…

Listen, folks – I am sorry. I don’t know what else to do. I just hope that the will sky come through for me, though – at this point – I have my doubts. If nothing else, I hope that the kids’ father will find some grace and see that there is no love in scorn and righteousness…

It’s pretty simple. I just want him to leave me alone.

The kids do seem to have a lot of anxiety here…at this house. Probably because of what they saw here, as very young people.

No. Not any stupid ghost. They saw the worst of confused humanity at it’s drunkest and most manipulatively hateful…they saw their mother scorned in the upstairs hall, the living room, everywhere their father silently skulked off to…they likely felt the walls bend with the force of her heartbreak.

It is as if he is determined to see me become the writhing and pitiful thing he wishes I were…so that he himself can feel righteous.

Tell me, what kind of man feels righteousness over taking his children’s right to motherhood away…for no reason other than his own twisted need for some imagined martyrdom…really, he seems to enjoy telling me about conversations he has had with people (neighbors, his family, former friends of mine) about how ‘unstable’ I am. Um, yeah – I think that’s called gas-lighting, buddy.

I know – from the time I have spent at Child Protective Services, as a court-appointed advocate for children who really do not have such great Moms…that all children, especially all little children, love their mother’s – no matter what people say…

I am a pretty good mother. My biggest flaw is the fact that when I am threatened by him (never physically, only in matters emotional and of heavy consequence)

…Well, I turn all wooden inside and my voice goes and, for some reason, I limp – though I don’t feel pain…just heavy and wooden.

…And the children, well – they are hurt by it, too.

I really have tried near everything and it never changes…it has been about nine years, all told – each one successively worse than the one before…

By the way – how unethical is it for a psychologist to explain to you the ways in which you are bound to fail without support – knowing that you have no support – and to explain to you how your cognitive process disrupts you ability to interface effectively with the general population…

“Really, only two percent of the population has this particular disparity between areas of intelligence and so…you are literally interpreting the world in a different way. Speaking in a different language.”

What? No, I’m not. Besides, who are you to explain to me how I work inside?

End Result: “You’re fucked without help. Oh, you have no help? Well, for a hundred and ten dollars AN HOUR perhaps we could work on developing some social strategies.

Oh, I’m sorry. Our time is up.”

…sicksicksick…yes, indeed you are.

I am fucked only because you fucked me. Damn.

My lawyers assistant hasn’t called me back. I don’t want a custody battle. Why do you think I put up with it all for so long?

Of course, I had no idea that it would actually come to this…still, though I have backed down to the edge of the field, standing tall – but what can I say?

One thing I can say is that I will never ever allow it to be said that I gave up my children.

I will never give them up…nor will they give me up…

But, to fight to protect the legal status of one’s motherhood is a fight that – frankly – I cannot fight…because it will turn me wooden…and when I am wooden, we all lose…

So, fuck him. Let him try. The Judges will hopefully inform him of the error of his ways…

And in this walking and talking life, it is our children who judge our worth…

I know I am worthy. I also know that the best I can do at this point is to just try to stay malleable and strong.

If I have to, I will trim the hedgeline all day – so that I am always there…

Not hiding, not wooden…
I will be smiling and waving, bidding good tidings…

I refuse to be broken by someone else’s sickness.

This is all I can do. Keep writing my account.

I sure am glad I started keeping this blog. Imagine if I hadn’t? Why, I’d probably still be trying to be ordinary and fucking everything up inside.

If you are interested at in helping me…well, I am far more worthy of a moment of your friends’ and colleague’s time…

In fact, please do let your local churches and meteorologists and teenagers and single mothers and homeless people and folks who sit woodenly fixed on the sky…

Please tell people I am a real person, my name is Faith Rachel Rhyne. I am 34 years old. I have two children whom I love dearly.

My mother and father cannot help. They have tried and it ends badly for all involved. (e.g. my father’s appeal to his parents to please help him to realize that his adversarial position is harmful not only to me, my Father’s Daughter, but to the kids…it was a gesture of pleading for reason and mindfulness and it resulted in a hostile phone call and a threat of full custody action.)

(Huh?)

Yeah, I know.

I have told the sky that I will proclaim the sense I get from it’s forms if it will prove to me that there is reason and kindness in this world.

Give the father of my children the grace to know that he needs to re-examine his perception of what the role of “biological father” actually entitles him to…

As parents, all we are entitled to is the hope that as our kids walk away from us, they will look back and smile. That’s it. They are not property, they are not manipulation tools, they are not prizes…they are people.

So, Sky – – – here’s the deal…

…let me see that the world – or at least a fair portion of it – has some measure of kindness by helping to affirm myself as who I am in the eyes of others…and no, I don’t mean by continuing the baffling trend of invisibility.

Send me a band of brothers, Sky. Let me sing with them.

My own brother is busy.
Let me sell my stories to those who can afford to pay so that I can actually get what I need to do done…which is to somehow help the people who can’t afford to pay…

I am a mother, an artist, a gardener…

A maker of records.

Please, Sky. Help me to believe.

Otherwise, nothing will make sense .

(Oh, wait – nothing makes sense now…see, I’ve always been a lousy bargainer. I just want everything to be okay. This is a step that may put me closer to okay.)

(Or it may be a huge screw-up…if nothing else it is evidence that I am not going to pretend like this situation is remotely reasonable.)

(It’s not. It is totally ridiculous.)

If you’d like, please feel free to comment any thoughts re: what I ought to do…

(yes, I know – I need to get a fuckin’ life…he’s told me that, in some form or another, for years…even when I was busting my ass to have ‘a life’ – )

(So, yeah – if you feel like you just want to tell me to shut the fuck up…well, I’m sorry to have bothered you.)

I am just trying to get a life that feels like it really is mine.

3 thoughts on “The Best Unread Blog EVER!

  1. Hi Faith. I realize that my world view is perhaps too conventional to offer advice to you, so I'll refrain. I will remind you that reading a blog is a voluntary pastime, and that people read your blog mostly because it's interesting writing… so no need for your readers to tell you to "shut up" — all they need to do is stop reading. Whoever said that the unexamined life isn't worth living (Plato?) was not thinking of you. I admire your willingness to examine in detail those things that most of us take for granted. (I fall squarely into the camp of people for whom clouds are merely clouds… but your perspective is interesting.) My wish for you is that you don't go too far in the opposite direction from Plato's opinion: too much examination and not enough living. Joseph Campbell's quote comes to mind: "What I seek is not the meaning of life, but the experience of life." (Power of Myth: cool book, and the kids might enjoy the stories) Hang in there.

  2. Jim – I am not opposed to conventional wisdom at all. I really have only ever wanted things to fall squarely. However, they don't. Not at all. Please understand that my ability to 'live' is a little bit impaired right now. I don't think you – or anybody else, clearly – seems to get that I don't want meaning…I don't give a shit about what anything means. I just know that it makes no sense for me to have barely seen my son all week and for me to feel so diminished as a person of value…I just want people to stand up for me…because, quite frankly – I am unable to stand up for myself…I tried, I failed…I quit…I don't want to examine things in detail…I want to take things for granted…but, I have never been good at that…and besides, what else is one to do while sitting on their porch with their heart breaking…but, to examine the clouds in detail…I don't try to come off as dismissive of conventional wisdom…I don't know shit about philosophy. I just know I am a good person who is – as far as my relationships with other people are concerned – seemingly disposable. Even as a mother….and I don't know what to do. There is no wisdom – conventional or otherwise – that can explain how sad I feel right now. The clouds give me hope that maybe there is something bigger than me that will help clear my heart and make me feel less wooden. I guess studying them is my agnostic way of praying.Thanks for your comments and I don't mean to come off as pedantic or dismissive. I guess I should read the crap I write before I post it, might have more readers, huh?I am just trying not to disappear. My best to you, et. al.

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