Childhood Days of Mine

Growing up where I did, and having what happened to me is all sad and that. I haven’t always been the lifestyle I live now. This is all because I had that dream of my puppy love boyfriend marring me, settling down and have some kids of our own. Well, that is all good and what so ever, yet that isn’t what happened.  In all honesty that isn’t what I am writing about.  You see, growing up I had a friend that I considered t6o be my best friend of all the friends I did have, which wasn’t many.  She was pretty in my eyes back then, but not in the wrong way of thinking, cause I was to busy being in my puppy love.

Upon the occurrences that happened in my life that presume to form and change my feelings of marriage, children and all those things.  I swayed to the other side.  Well you see my friend growing up discovered this about me, and shied away from me and our friendship.  Yes. I am a lesbian. and I guess she is homophobic. I have never thought of her in the wrong manner and have the up most respect for her, just because she was my best friend growing up.

What really gets me is she is a wonderful person, and I imagine a terrific mother also, of course I don’t know if I will ever have a friendship with her again.  I just wish she wasn’t so homophobic of me cause that would just be wrong for me to think or try anything with her.

You see I’m going on another trip of mine and going to be back in the home state and city. I would love to just sit and visit with her, just as friends cause that is all we can ever be is friends.

 

Written for the friendship I once had and would like to have again. Even if our friendship isn’t to continue then I do wish to say, “Thank You Wendy Dutel for being my friend back then, now, and forever.”

 

STUPID THOUGHTS IN MY HEAD

Seriously hurt but not dead. My day could be going great and I’m standing waiting on a bus. Watching traffic going by, my thoughts take over. Hum, the small cars, would I hit and fly over them only to be run over by the next car. Then as the SUV’s pass by my mind wonders if I would get struck in the grill or thrown free to be run over by another car. Then a big rig, monster truck, or bus passes by, and my mind kicks into full gear. It wonders one thing and one thing only. How much would the initial impact hurt as I would step out into traffic. Thankfully it is just stupid thoughts running through my head and not in my heart.

A Love I Still Have

This is for a love I carry deep within my heart.

Giving me the inspiration to stay out of the dark.

Stiring some feelings that are deep inside of me.

Scaring me enough I think I must flee.

Seeing it as the easiest path to take.

Yet knowing that isn’t part of my fate.

Learning to take whatever life throws at me.

All the while not wearing my heart on my sleeve.

Even though we may each feel different about us.

Only builds hope for more to discuss.

Giving up and going our separate ways.

Has given me many sadden days.

Leaving with my head feeling bent.

Putting my chin in my chest and leaving a dent.

Priding myself on holding my head up high.

Even though there are many days I wish I would just die.

I know stronger is the way to be.

Some days are harder just for me to be me.

Feelings of the darkness pour all around.

I will still walk with my feet firm on the ground.

9-6-2015

Still Alive in Here

So here I am more important than I actually Have
felt I was worth.Life has sowed me many different
possibilities, especially when I unexpectedly 
cross path with someone from my past, and hear 
them speak highly of me. I still carry those same
morals and those principles. This always 
enlightens my heart, and tears at my  Soul.
Wishing I knew who I was then all the while
Knowing I am that same person I was then. An 
emptiness has always been within me as far as I 
can remember life. Seeing it in the past photos 
taken of myself. Making me convince myself
future pictures shall consciously show a spark. 
Days can be harder to exist inside my eyes than
others. Optimism remains to be the driving force
of my life.   

The life of Char Carradine

   Found a pen and some paper.  It does not matter how I look at it, it just does not matter.  You can be mad at me till the end of time.  Do you know that I will continue to love you no matter what?  No matter what, don’t you think that is something amazing?  I have no desire to be your love, just wish to have my best friend back. Like you said, and I agree.  That was a one time thing.  now next question.  I can live with that, can you?  Is there no way you can get past whatever it is bothering you about me?  And at the possibility that you cannot then I must state this.  For you to call me weak because I follow and listen to my heart.  Well, you got a good dose of my head taking over, and it isn’t pretty.  Majority of the time I can catch it before it becomes full blown, yet when I get surprised with a   shocking negative to describe me.  Well Sha, it floored me.

  Because here it is after taking me by the hand with your guidance. I first crawled, then i was able to stand.  At the start it was extremely hard to walk, and soon after I stopped wobbling and depending on you to keep me from falling. I was ready to take those steps and start walking. Not so great at first because when I felt like I was going to fall, you were there to catch me.  Then as time went on I became stronger, and stronger is what I became.  Strong enough to where I could walk on my own.  Then came the time I could run, and run with it.   I did have no worries, because if I stumbled and started to fall you were there.  If I fell, you were there to help me back to my feet and dust me off when I just didn’t seem strong enough to dust myself off.

Day became weeks, then weeks turned into months.  We never figured the months would turn into years, and before we knew it a decade had passed.  A lesbian and a flirt, who would have thought, and to top it off.  We live on opposite sides of the world.

I have always known that my lifestyle as a lesbian is not the lifestyle of the flirt I met on Tagged.com.  Thou her inner beauty will always outshine others within my eyes.  This does not lead me to believe that she and I could in any manner maintain any other kind of relationship other than the friendship we both know.  There is no want or desire to work toward or push for a romantic relationship because it just is not there.  Our love for one another is one of understanding.  Knowing the hearts of each other differently than regular friends. Regular friends just do not get us like we get each other.

You are a beautiful Stubborn SOul, and what we share is deeper than any sexual play could ever fulfill.  I know you hurt also, I know because I feel it too.  I fight a daily battle with my head, and when it wins, I lose.  I live with the fact that I am psychotic, and know how I became to be this way.  Fortunate that I am not a Psycho, yet being a psychotic has taken me years to accept that I am a product of what society has made me.  I do not expect anyone else to understand what I am.  People have left me all my life, so the pain of them leaving hurts.  Yes it does, but not enough to cripple me as it has done in my past.

Knowing that part of me.  i have learned what keeps my head in check.  It is either medicate (not with Meth) to shut my brain off or I will put myself through more torment then I will ever express to any other individual.  When I do reach that point of flipping out.  Two choices that I have. Shut my brain off by medication, or take an hour to calm down  and come back to take it out.  I may not like what is being said to me, yet knowing is better than not knowing.  Silence is deadly for me.  I know these chactorcatics of myself and feel it would be different if I knew this stuff about me and dd nothing about it, or to be back where I was when I emerged out of my parents house 29 years ago.  I did not choose to be the person I was then either, and have gone through a massive transformation to become the person I am today.  I am so much better than that person I had to lock in a cage to draw the real me out, and I call her Charlene.

By the way she wishes to thank you for allowing me to let her out while I was there. She enjoyed herself.  She was the quiet shy one, where as I am a bit more outgoing and louder. Eighteen years I lived a life I had no control over.  I did as I was told Or I was beat.  I spoke only when I was spoken to, and had no idea how to live life when I finally escaped Charlene’s.

Up until fifteen years ago, I really did not know how to take care of myself. For fourteen years of my 29 years here in Bakersfield, I lived from place to place, In my vehicle, and even had relations with people just to have a roof over my head.  That is how I came about having my daughter.  Right this moment, this is my destination, to see my daughter after not seeing her for seven years.  Last time we saw each other was when (Amanda and I)  confirmed that Delya was mine. Seven children and one adult with a giant mirror in the bathroom.   It was apparent I was Delya’s mother.

Now Kathy is another story,  She decided to adopt since she could not conceive one of her own.  Dan, her ex husband (due to the fact he went back to the drug life) and Kathy were doing well for themselves with their four adopted children. Delya being their last to  adopt. Timmy and Tommy were brothers and Amanda who was conceived in a mental institution.  Kathy brought Delya home after three days from being born.   I would meet Kathy at various places in Bakersfield .  Whether it was to eat, a park, the fertility clinic, or shopping at JCPenney. *Story A* Later on I would visit at their home.

Throughout these visits and the more we talked, I kept telling her how special Delya was and that soon she would conceive one of her own.  She didn’t believe me until that day arrived, and it did.  She gave birth to Mathew.  Now their family was complete with me signing Delya over to the Devine family.  They wished too keep Delya’s first name and knowing her last name was going to be Devine was okay with me too.  We talked about changing her middle name.  I had given Delya my mom’s middle name.  In the end after I signed Delya over to the Devine family, she became Delya Jade Devine.  Pretty name for a pretty girl.She shows the intelligence from my daddy’s side of the family.  My mom encouraged us girls in art projects, so she shows the artistic side from the women in the family. 

Bringing me back to my childhood, of following directions by doing what I was told. There came a point where I knew what was being done to me with manipulation on Micheal’s actions were wrong.  Learning that what he did to us was wrong.  That some exploration with siblings is normal, but he went to far.  I traveled the U.S.A. before I actually landed myself in jail.  I took until the year 2000 (ST. Patty’s Day) to meet Teresa (she met Delya once)*Story B* The year 1985 was when I officially took up residence in Bakersfield. For fifteen years here  I really did not know what I was doing.Thought it was what I was suppose to be doing. How could I do what I was doing if I did not know how to take care of myself?

I got educated in a career.  It paid off the  same year I had met Teresa, up until about six months before Cletas and Teresa died in the same month.   You see, because within those five years I was with Teresa, she taught me about my body.  Literary the mechanics of my body and what controlsi t (my head). Cletas taught me about the bills get taken first after the job is complete.

Then within 16 of his now 21 years, I had Jason.  My bubby, surrogate son (they called him), I just called him Boy. Respectfully- He knew that I was there for him when he would hear my Holler,”BOY”.  He would just come a running. All excited to see me.   He knew it was time for an adventure.  I put my son in the system that later persecuted me for doing the right thing.  Being a stranger in a city at age nineteen, then having a baby nine years later.  Well, I was being arrested once again.

Just when everything was loaded into a truck, someone elses truck and not my own.  Four months I served.  I listened to my 3 month, 4 month,  5 month, then 6 month old baby boy coo to me trough a plate glass window communicating only with a phone. Lee Dalton Carradine is what I named him and he knew his momma.  That was until the age of 2 12 years.  The day that tore my heart from my chest. Not knowing if he is alive or dead, or what he was named by the Stephens after that day.  Around me they called his Lee, yet around their home what did they call him? Not knowing what the Stephens named my son makes it a bit hard to track him down.  I believe they named him Tyler because I went to an eight grade graduation with a friend of mine where they did announce a Tyler Stephens. My heart raced as I to cheered this boy as he went to receive his certificate.  Then, upon exiting the stadium, I came across the same boy I cheered earlier.  Our eyes met as I came into this young man’s presence.  When his eyes pierced mine full of questions.  I could not talk with him by law if he was my son, so I just kept thinking, “In time son, In time.” Shifting my eyes away from him, They met upon the adopted mom, and at that moment all I saw was fear.  I have waited 15 1/2 years for my son to turn 18 years of age.  Knowing how rare it would be for someone to turn 18 on 11-11-11.  I thought this would make it a little bit easier for me to find him, that was now three more years gone to pass.  He is now the age of 21.

I actually thought I found him on facebook.  I have a friend on facebook by the name Tyler Stephens.  He was the only one from these parts that relocated back to the area where I originated from. He is the right age yet his birthdate is not.

Now where was I got lost in the memories of my son.  He was a good baby, he cried only when he needed something.  I was a good thing cause when he cried….He CRIED!!! He gave me purpose, that was until I could not get him back out of the system I put him in to protect him.  So there I was again. Alone again, except I did have Jason.  I not only taught Jason good morals, discipline, and love. Jason taught me the value of being loved in this life. Whether we were taking our first outing into Oildale Park and climbing into the steeple (story C), or coming over to take a bath.  He celebrated it with his laughter and joy giving me lots of hugs and kisses whenever he’d see me (story D).                     

Loving

Thinking about life, and it leads me to wonder. Am I to lead a life of solitude? Has my chance at love come and gone? Letting go is not an easy thing to do, and I do not think the pain of losing love ever goes away. The pain of that loss lives deep inside me as the day I lost it. Loving someone, as deeply as I did, was the most intense part of my life.  Time had passed since the love I once knew left this world. To have someone in your life as I once had in mine. I was in love, truly in love. Within the morals I have instilled, I did not question the wishes asked of me. To have such a love, is a love. Beyond beauty. For I saw no other beauty, except the beauty of my love.

So, am I to lead a life of solitude?  This couldn’t have been my only chance of love. No longer believing that there possibly may be someone else for me.  Living each day with a void I know no other being can fill.  Does the loss of ones’ love ever go away?  I find that there are some days where I do not feel the weight of my loss as heavy as other days, yet each day it is there.  Some kind of weight.

Being told that time heals does not seem to help. Time has passed for me, and I still feel the loss of the love I once had.

Cherish the ones in our lives, because there may be the day when the one you love as deeply as I loved may go away. Love deeply, Cherish always, and grant each others wishes.