*a memoir under construction DEAR GOD, a memoir in verse

1.

Dear God

You were there

In Sunday school

Miss Williams said You were everywhere 

The five of us were there 

In the small white tent next door 

I don't remember any of their names 

Only hands

Only fingers

Hers

The big girl's hand pressed against my red barrettes 

Pushing and pulling my head on his dick

It was not like peppermint or Bit O Honey 

It was a Bomp Pop and Big Stick

But not sweet and orange 

It was Play Do left open

Ashy and uncared for 

Pointing and ready for me

To suck

I was four and he was nineteen 

I think

He was a black boy

Wore faded blue jeans

And a half smile on his dark brown and bumpy looking face

What was his name, God

You know the number of hairs on our heads

Like the song says 

You knew his name

And his smell

And his eyes

And her hands 

You knew why, God

Rev. Ford said

God is always in control 

The girls were sixteen and seventeen 

I think

There was another boy

Little like me

He didn't have to suck dick

Because the big boy wasn't no fag

There was just me

My tiny lips and throat

And a dick

A dick, God

I always knew that boys had pre pees

But this was my first dick

Do pee pees grow into dicks

I must have done a real good job

Way she inhaled hiss and ahhed and watched with the others

Then there was wet that was not spit from my choke

God, are dicks always so messy and wet

He peed in my mouth

He peed in my mouth

I screamed and ran out the tent

I tried to race to my house 

Just next door to my father

Who would beat that dick up if he knew

The youngest and meanest of the big girls caught me

Tied a thick brown rope around my neck

Lifted me to the clothes line post cemented in the ground

Held my body as it swung

This post was not for sun drying dresses and skirts 

To be worn on Sundays with lace stockings and black shoes

This post was a four year old's Calvary 

Jesus wept and I did too

Did You leave Jesus alone

Was Jesus scared 

Did Jesus wonder why he was so bad

Her lips close as a prayer when she threatened if I told

Said I was a nasty girl anyway

Said she would run tell my mother first

Said I was out here being fass

Being all nasty

I was dirty

I have been nasty and dirty ever since

Are You the same God

The one who could never

Get me quite clean

No matter my awards or deeds

No matter how fast I forgave

No matter the down ass / ride or die bitch I proved myself to be

I never got clean

2.

When I got home

I don't remember what I did

I remember I was afraid

I had something to hide

Not like I had done something bad

I WAS something bad

I was a thing now

Not sugar and spice 

I was mud and wet grass

I was hard rocks and trash

I knew You didn't like bad

Knew my parents could never find out

The nasty thing I did

Put my mouth on a big boy's penis and sucked

It didn't matter the girls made me

I still did it

I still sucked

Except I wasn't sucking at all

Was checking on a dick

Too big for my lips

Too heavy for my throat

No good girl would ever do that

I was a sinner

A fass ass dirty dinner

That night my mother gave me a bath

Asked me about the rope burn and I lied

I said I was playing a game 

I knew she didn't believe me 

Now I was a lying fass ass dirty sinner

I don't remember what happened to the dick

Or the little boy

Or the two girls next door

I don't remember them babysitting me anymore after that

Did You hear my prayers, God

Did You hear them after that

Do You ever listen now

My dolls weren't the same anymore

My coloring books either

My mother was pregnant with my sister 

I was too little to play with the neighborhood kids

Didn't matter though

What would we play

Games weren't the same anymore

There was a dick

3.

Thank You, God for blessing me

With a child of my own

No one owns another body

No matter how new

My little boy is Yours

And his

He belongs to himself

There are days I stare at him

As he plays

He likes to be Spiderman 

He likes the Muppet Babbies

I watch him as he sleeps

I am always afraid

I am afraid of strangers 

Way they look at him

Way they walk past

I have to leave him sometimes

My breath does not belong to me

Until I see his face again

Until I see his dirty fingers

Don't leave him, God

Don't leave him alone 

Please

Please

I ask him questions

When we are alone

About people

About touches

About daycare

About play

He doesn't understand 

I think he is annoyed

I hug him too long

My whole head on his shoulder 

My coarse hair knife in his face

Prickly and sharp

He pulls away first

Sometimes I think he knows

How dirty I am

There are days, God

When the clouds are too heavy

For my head to hold

I am afraid

I want to see You face to face

I want to be out there where You are

I want to become a butterfly 

A tree

I want to live in the sky

The clay

The sea

Too many days

Too many thoughts

I don't know why

Will You be there for him

Will You watch him grow

Will You tell him how sorry I am

I cannot explain to him

The weight of this dirt

How heavy the thoughts that come

From nowhere

From everywhere 

Since early middle school 

The waves too crashing 

The sadness too deep

My baby did not make me clean

Did not save me

Is not enough to make me stay

I am afraid

4.

I pick him up from daycare

I don't sign him out and leave as usual

I sit instead 

I talk to Mrs. Debbie

I am on the same couch

Close to her face

She is older now

I am older too

She remembers me

When I was a little girl

In the choir at church

On the junior usher board

All my Easter speeches

We talk and remember together 

Our days in the church

I tell her Rev. Hunter

Used to kiss me with his tongue

Every

Every

Time

Deep in my mouth

When I was a little girl

Even when I was older

When I would extend my cheek

He would grip my chin

With his forefinger and thumb

Who would have believed me

What would I have said

I am ashamed to tell her

How afraid of him I was

Afraid to tell

To run

To move

To cry

I am ashamed to tell her my filth

My sin

I stop talking

Just drink my tea

Mrs. Debbie is quiet

I wish I could take my words back

Roll them into a ball

Flush them down the toilet

Maybe she won't believe me

Why would a reverend touch me

She puts down her drink

Turns to me slow

I know

She says

We all knew

I am still as a grave

I am magnet to questions that land on me

Like bricks

Like fire

They stick like leeches and lies

I cannot speak

There is dirt in my mouth

Dirt in my hair

In my shoes

Dirt in my bones

I want to die

I want to be a whisper

A breeze

Anything but me

5.

The mania is what scared me the most

The mania still scares me

People talk about how hard the depression is

And it is

Depression is crippling and heavy

But I have some control

I couldn't even talk to You

Not even You

When I'm manic it's like there is another woman

Living in my body

That bitch hype

I am a rag doll

Blindly obeying

I can see myself from outside myself

Talking fast and loud

Arms moving wildly

I'm way too drunk

With all the hyper energy come thoughts

Thoughts that come too fast

Thoughts I can't control 

I translate them into demands of a bully to play dangerous games 

When I am driving the voices tell me to glide off a cliff

Jump off a bridge 

Buy the rat poison 

Shoot myself in the head

The thoughts go on

There is always another game

Can You hear them too

Do You know what I mean

That night back in June

It was pills

For weeks I had been rapidly cycling between 

Depression and mania

That was a switch 

From the quicksand of depression I had barely been breathing through

I was having panic attacks 

Almost every night

I was afraid of being alone

I was always sad

I was way too sad

I was afraid of everything 

Afraid of quiet

Of noise

Of light

Of dark

Mostly I was afraid of being alone

My son worked long shifts

On days and nights I didn't work

I would sit in the parking lot at Target or Kohl's 

Five hours

Six

I was still working

I taught a writing class

Worked as a caregiver 

I sold my paintings

Performed poetry

Tried to praise You when I could

To be thankful for what I had

Everything I did

I had to do with a happy face

I kept on the table in front of the couch

I was sleeping on the couch

I was afraid of being alone in a room

Afraid of the kitchen

Afraid of the shower

The thoughts were calm at first

Usually in a manic state they are pushy

That night it was like talking to a good friend 

You don't have to take all the pills

Just enough so you can get some good sleep

That's not enough

Just a few more

You will be fine

Just to get some good sleep

That's all

Some good good sleep

I swallowed more pills

Then more

Then more

I knew this was for more than good sleep

This was for the best sleep ever

The thing about depression and mania 

Is that you believe the thoughts

At least I believed them

Why would a voice in my own head lie to me

Maybe the voice was You

Maybe the voice knew things I didn't

It had to

I believed everyone would be better without me

Believed I was a burden to my son

Beloved everyone was staring at me

I am not dirty

I am not trash

Or bad

Or the devil

Or any of the things the thoughts told me before 

I am incredible 

Am strong and a gift 

Made in Your image

Right

You

I know this

I don't know this during an episode 

I was deep in one

I felt myself drifting to sleep

I remember praying 

I remember floating 

I slept the whole next day

My son left for work in the morning

When he returned that evening I was still on the couch

The next day I was present to what I had done

What I had done

Not the voices or thoughts 

I did it to myself

I knew I should check back into the hospital 

I have been in a psych ward before

No way was I ever going back

Ever ever

I was afraid to tell my doctor 

Afraid to tell anyone

I was consumed with sadness and guilt

I drove to my mom's house

I knew I wouldn't have to talk

We sat in the living room 

Watched a movie together 

I wanted to tell her

I needed to get it out

I didn't know how

The movie was over and I dived

I took a bunch of pills

I took a lot

No mother can hear that easily from her child

I knew she wouldn't know what to say 

But I needed to say it

I knew that she loved me

I know that she does

She changed the subject 

So fast my neck jerked

I understood

This was the family way

This is how my family deals with trauma

They become ghosts

They

We

How was I different 

I tried to leave too

To become invisible 

A past tense

To escape the pain of now

I was numb as a tooth

I had no tears

No anger either

What did I even want

We were not mushy women after all

We were huggy and kissy

We were shoelaces 

She and I

Coming in and out of holes

Twisting

Knotting up

Wrapping into pretty bows

Holding on tight

Coming apart

Wrapping up nicely again

Suicide was not pretty

Or positive

Or near

Or forgivable 

It was sin

And forever

And here I was again

Being this way 

All ungrateful and selfish

Dropping this load

I don't remember what she said

Something though

Then walked into her room

And stayed

6.

There is so much time now

To think and to write

The whole world has shut down

Dear God, many say You are punishing us

With this virus

This thing

This germ in the air

I don't believe that though

Don't believe a pandemic is a punishment 

We are not naughty children

We are not dogs that per on the carpet

Safer at home

Is what they say

Essential workers only

On the roads

Braving this storm

I spend my days and nights at home mostly

I leave for laundry

For food

To take Uraeus to work

To pick him up

Thank You, God

Thank You for my life

I am only here because of You

It has been almost a year since that night

Since the pills

Since everything almost ended

I am driving home

Uraeus is listening to his music

I can't hold back my tears

I tell Uraeus how sorry I am

Sorry about the pills

Sorry I almost left him 

To fend for himself

I try to inhale

The air is stingy with itself

I am only allowed short necessary breaths

It takes to survive 

I try to explain the sadness back then

The mania

The thoughts

The hype bitch inside

Are You there, God

Are You there

Uraeus tells me it's okay

Like he understands 

I hope he never understands 

Hope he never knows how this feels

My tears slow down

I feel air filling my lungs

Breathe

Breathe

I hear You talking to me

Hear You clear as thunder 

The house was sold soon after that night

That night with the pills

We were only renters

What say did we have

We were homeless after that

For many months

Lived in hotels

Motels

Never Holiday Inns

Rent was one hundred dollars a day

Sometimes even more

Every

Every

Every

Day

Months

Months

Over three thousand dollars a month

For months

All of our stuff

In our little room

Mostly we shared a bed

Some nights we got two

I know You were there, God

It had to be You

Last year was the hardest year of our lives

But You saw us through

Every night we had food

Every morning we had rent

By the skin of our teeth sometimes 

But every morning we paid

I feel so alone

Anger devoured me like flood

My family was nowhere 

Never asked how we were

Never asked where

What if I had died that night 

That night with the pills

What if I left 

Uraeus and I are still on the drive home

The tears return

But they don't fall

We have each other

We know our bond is tight

We are home

Home

Home

We have a new home now

We rent an apartment 

Small and comfortable 

There is art on the walls

Rent only due on the first

Our shoulders can fall now

December 19 we got the keys to our place

Our place

Our place

My family wants us to come over for Christmas 

To go see a movie

To hang out and play

It's too soon

I try to explain

I needed time, God

For the anger to wane

Where were they

All those lonely nights 

Early mornings when I was still short on the rent

With only friends I could call

With only my art and books to sell

With a teaching job that paid pennies

With my clients I took care of

All elders with Alzheimer's 

Who don't know my name

Uraeus was my peace

My friend

My partner on the journey 

Spent his days looking for work

Going on interviews 

Being told no

Then looking and looking

And looking again

Now we are okay

Now family wants to family

Guess as long as we don't talk about the year that we had

Guess as long as everyone can just move on

How, God

How do I sweep last year under a rug

Just go on like nothing

Here we are in spring

It's better now

We are working 

Then coming home

Home

Home

Everyday I am thankful 

We have a home

The good thoughts come too

The good talks with my mother

Today she said she could tell I lost weight 

I smiled on the phone

Like I had done something right

Maybe my life will never be my own

Maybe I will always be seeking her approval 

It's time, God

I know

Even my therapist agrees

Time to paint this canvas of my life

With what I want for myself

I let the thoughts come

The good ones and bad

I let myself get angry 

And there are times when I am glad

I remember the Vidars

My cheerleading team

When I was a child

Remember my mother would pile us into her car

As many as could fit

To go to the drive in

Eat popcorn and licorice and drink pop

I remember Friday night sleepovers

Dance offs in the living room

Tetherball games in the backyard

I remember how hard she worked

To keep a roof over our heads 

How she didn't bad mouth our dad

How she gave all she had

I remember 

I remember 

Who was ever emotionally available in my family

Where would she have learned 

Not from her mother or father

Not from her many siblings

Not her aunts

Not her uncles

Not the church

Or the world where she lived

I was so hungry though, God

For good touch and care

Starving, God

For someone to see I was there

Me 

Me

This artist child

Touched way too soon

Who could not pray the pain away

Who didn't know what to say

Didn't know who to tell what

Who to trust how

I was swallowed in secrets

That made me too sad

I wanted to prove how lovable I was

That I could be pretty and fun

I ignored the red flags

All of my life

Maybe he will stay

Maybe he will stay

Maybe he is sorry

Maybe he is sorry

Maybe I can be better

I can be better

At twenty-two I was watching The Cosby Show 

On my own couch when he called

Come over

He said

Let's watch together 

Maybe now

Maybe now

He stayed on the phone

The time I was there

I watched Denise and her antics

The and his smile

On his futon

Just me all alone

Finally he came out of the room

Without saying a word

Kissed me on my neck

Then touched my breasts

I am still again

Numb and afraid

He held my shoulders down

With his elbow and fist

I was too afraid to cry

I was too afraid to fight

My cousin and his girlfriend 

Lived just across the street

Maybe if I screamed I thought 

Maybe

Maybe

He zipped up his pants

Led me to the door

What happened 

I thought

I thought he liked me 

But no

I stood outside his door

When he handed me my purse

Now go tell

He laughed

Then closed the screen slow

*******

This morning I woke up thinking about a time when Uraeus was about four months old and we were going with my family to Las Vegas to celebrate my step father's birthday. I think we were all in my mom's SUV. I didn't know my status as bipolar at that time but looking back I was rapidly cycling between mania and depression. On top of that I was experiencing postpartum depression. Adding more, at that time for work I was babysitting my friend's newborn twins. Her sons were a month older than Uraeus and I was not being paid the rate anyone should be paid to babysit twin newborns. I wasn't even being paid friends and family rate. She was paying me $100 a month and somehow seemed to take pride in that. One time she even said, "I do pay you a whole hundred dollars." It's laughable now, but it wasn't then. Ok, let's add more, my relationship with my son's dad was ending. It was a lot. That's the background, now back to the story.

We were on the way to Vegas and were almost at the hotel. Somehow my milk for Uraeus spilled in my bag and I lost it. Emotionally it sent me EVERYWHERE. I don't remember what I said but I lashed out at my mother and just created an awkward mood for everyone. I was literally crying over spilled milk. When I could get my mother alone I apologized for my outburst but she didn't want to hear it. Not that I blame her. I mean, from her perspective, it was MILK. And there I was acting like my life was over. I didn't know how to explain to anyone what I was going through. I didn't understand it myself.

When Uraeus and I got in the room my sister, who had just had a baby herself, brought me some milk. I remember her handing it to me like, here, dang, it's just milk. And to her, it was just milk, but to me, my life was ending. Or at least I wanted it to be. That's the thing about bipolar brains. EVERYTHING could be a life or death situation. I was dealing with so much and didn't know how I was going to get out of it.

The room Uraeus and I were in had two full beds. One was for us and the other was for my mom and step father. Before Richard, my step father, got in the room, I was standing in front of the window in the hotel. I was just standing there looking out. My mental clouds were very dark. When Richard came in the room I went to the bed and just started crying uncontrollably. I tried to be as quiet as I could but it wasn't a secret. He didn't say anything to me. Not that I remember anyway. When my mother came in the room he told her that I had been crying. I don't remember her saying anything either. Maybe they didn't know what to say. Maybe they were upset. I don't know. I mean here it was Richard's birthday and the family was all together and here I was...acting like that.

I think this memory came up today because yesterday I posted a picture on Instagram of my gas gage in my car. It was on E and the gas light was on. I posted a caption with the picture that said Kinda how I feel. This morning I saw a comment on the photo that said, "Ain't nothing a little cash can't cure." The person who posted the comment is a friend and the comment was posted with all the best intentions. And she is right. She doesn't know that I am living in a hotel and paying rent by the day and tired from working like crazy and selling art and discounting my prices so that I can make my daily money goal. She doesn't know how that yellow gas light almost sent me into tears. And how could she know it? This is not about her. It's about me and where I am. It's about me on one hand feeling so blessed and powerful that I'm even making it and on the other hand feeling SUPER tired and needing a break. When I saw the comment for a quick second I was back in that hotel, crying over milk.

This morning is a different story. My gas is still on E but I'll make it. I'll get to work. I'll get some money. I'll get to where I'm going tonight. I'll sell some paintings. Please God, let me sell some paintings. I'll get some gas. I'll be ok. I will you know. I will be ok.