“Seldom Alone. Seldom Not Lonely.” by Annabelle Lennox

“In my life I have seldom been alone. Yet I’ve felt alone since the beginning.” – Leanna Glenn Markham

Seldom Alone. Seldom Not Lonely.

Fiction. Based on a True Discovery of Self

by Annabelle Lennox

This journal entry is inspired by true events. Some of the characters, names, businesses, incidents, and certain locations and events have been fictionalized for dramatic purposes. Any similarity to the name, character or history of any person is entirely coincidental and unintentional.

Trigger Warning: our program often motivates people to discuss their trauma. If you find yourself feeling overwhelmed, please, take a step back to address emotional flashbacks and trauma before continuing to push yourself. If you are experiencing a medical emergency, call 911 or the National Suicide Hotline at (1-800) 273-8255.

The walls close in every day that I don’t speak up for myself. Yesterday his narcissism slipped out and he screamed at me like a lunatic. He blamed me, of course. That’s what they do. Redirect the focus back to you and make up ridiculous lies about your character that aren’t remotely accurate. Such as, “You made me take everything out of the cabinet and find these fucking sauces that…” And so on. The rest of the sentence is just a continuation of the manipulation of words and an attempt to gain power or position. This isn’t a race, Dad, don’t be an asshole. That’s your job today. Don’t be a fucking asshole. None of these other things have anything to do with how you are treating me. I do not need to be screamed at ever again. Seriously. Ever again. There will never be a time when that is necessary. And it shouldn’t even be an option when you know what I have been through. Except that… you believe, in those moments, that you are justified in how you are treating me. Which I imagine the judge has felt as well at some point in his relationships. All of them. An arrogance: he is better, he is having power, and so he can behave this way because I brought it upon myself. No. None of this I brought upon myself. It is absolutely true that I have the responsibility to decide how I respond to all of this. It is also true that, while I am responsible for myself, I am also experiencing intense visceral reactions at the same time. My body becomes so tight that I have to start stretching out my body right where I am. I make weird movements in order to let go of the immense amount of pressure and tension that has now threaded through my entire being. And this is true for my energy field. So I will continue to grow and learn. I will continue to set boundaries. Each successful boundary set, I feel more and more confident.

Just like the throwing up, the emotional purging happens in a similar incessant way. Throwing up all the stomach bile. Throwing up all the pain. The hurt. The shame. It isn’t necessary to carry these things around. We have light to shine on others. Children to raise. Love to give.

Rhiannon was once again strapped with finding a new daycare provider. Once again, she felt she had been blindsided and she snapped at the daycare momma who she had grown fond of. Rhiannon apologized, genuinely, because that is who she is, but she still felt sick if the thought struck her again. It had been a golden opportunity for her to learn a lesson in humility as well as in trusting the timing of the universe. One of the things her aunt always says about her is that she “will figure it out. You always do,” she says. She has said this all her life, and it has never changed. She has a knowing about how dark things might have possibly been over here. She also has an immense trust in God, and a plan, so she doesn’t fuss too much, she just loves as hard as she can.
On the hunt, Rhiannon found a woman that also did foster care. She told her mom that she was going to go over there and decide whether this woman was one of those that had a lot of love to give and was saving the world, or one of those that was money hungry and gave the kids Kool-Aid for breakfast. She later would tell the daycare provider this, and they would share a giggle. When she got home after meeting her, her mother asked, “Well, what’s the verdict?”
“She’s cool. That’s her. I like her. She’ll help me with the discipline side of things too. She’s stern but loving. Not scary and startling.” She was putting the laundry away at the same time. Fussing over collars and the bottoms of pants. That must’ve been like her mom right there. Rubbing her hand over her thigh when she didn’t want to talk about something. This, she wouldn’t want to talk about.
“What the fuck mom?! So you leave me with this asshole?!” She screams inside her car when she is finally alone.
“I didn’t just leave. Well. OK. I did sort of just leave. But your dad is…” She shrugs. “You’re right, I am sorry. I am sorry for all of that.”
“I don’t even know what to say, mom. Thank you, I think. This is a weird experience, and I don’t know if I am doing it ok. I honestly feel like I am going to be just fine. That I can let go and just trust the universe. I am doing my part for sure, but I don’t have to maintain all these old ideas about who I am, what I should be doing, and where I am going. I am a good, kind and loving person. That is who I am. If they say I am not in court. They say I am not.” Shrugs. “I just will not give any more time to that sort of depleting thinking as long as I catch myself. I will change that train of thought. I didn’t deserve any of that. I am not ashamed of myself anymore. I will not be bullied into soothing a man’s ego in order to maintain and be granted safety. Fuck that.”

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