Janeytwo
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Standing alone on Gratiot looking down to 8 Mile the dividing line between rich and poor. I am poor. Sitting on the bus...does the old black man across from me know my secret? What I am about to do? The bus stinks of motor oil. Riding past the mall...seeing a mom holding her child's hand going into the mall. She is a have of the most blessed kind. Soon I will be a have-not. Sign posts and street names flashing by...traffic lights...sitting on the bus. One more hour to be a mom...one more hour. What would happen if I ran from the bus?
But no, I don't.
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How strong and brave you are..
In the inner child work.. (aka self help.. and I agree therapy right now is a good thing) a person goes back and hugs/loves that girl on the bus..
And your mom was wrong to not go with you.. (In my thinking)
Lesson learned was a wrong lesson.. and I bet she wanted you to go alone because she thought you would never do it again.. and what she was really doing was helping the traumatizing along..
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Sitting beneath that **** clock watching the minutes tick by......... No one with me...just a court appointed someone or other to guard my rights...but she's not sitting with me...she's in that room through that door. I am alone. Then an angel appearing...the lady from the adoption service. She sits with me a while.
Alone, taking the bus back after. But I don't remember that. I don't remember a single thing about that.
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I remember the worker person from CC picking me up in her car.. I remember standing in front of the judge..
Him questioning me.. and me being so good to give him the correct answers..
What a good girl I was..
At the cost of myself..
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Forgive me for writing. I just can't help it.
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Keep going dear heart.. tell the world.. Its what helped me..
Jackie