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Unpacking me: I am a very messy unpacker...

I believe that disease is a perfect storm of internal and external components. In unpacking myself, maybe I can find some healing. This is my opinion, experience and point of view and not meant to vilify my mom but to understand her and in doing that maybe I can understand myself.

When I was little, approximately around three years old I made a pact with my mom “Mom, when you die can I be buried with you?” She said yes. After my mother agreed to this I agonized for years about how I was going to survive in her casket, I literally would try and figure out how many matches and peanut butter sandwiches I should bring... In my mind my mom was going to die and I was not but I would still live with her corpse...That is incredibly messed up co-dependent thinking. I think I sensed and absorbed her lack of self worth and self loathing, my body took notes and kept track of the minutes. Not too long after this ridiculous contract, my mom married the man that would be my stepfather for the next 18 years. A month after their nuptials she tried to kill herself by cutting open her hand in a bathtub. I was there and didn’t understand what was happening, my stepdad was kicking the locked door of the bathroom and so I tried to help him, kicking the door as well with my ineffective little foot. Years later my mom told me that she had found her then new husband in bed with another woman and therefore decided to end her life, this was very shortly after the pact we had made, the first real betrayal. She was going to leave me or at least die and (in my mind) take me with her. I have friends that agonize about making mistakes that will scar their children, I don’t think my mom knew how to not fuck her kids up. Is that an unfair statement? I don’t think so, it’s true and not meant with malice, she had pretty bad examples and a lack of self worth with no initiative to look outside of who she had become. Unfortunately she looked for someone else to “rescue” her and her hero gauge was moderately skewed as she married a pretty bad and unscrupulous person about a month after she had met him.


My mom wasn’t “allowed” to work therefore she was a stay at home housewife up until my early twenties. I see the parents these days posting all of their adventures, hikes, play...If Instagram was a thing in my childhood there would be none of that picturesque shit on social media that never was, people would get tired of pics taken from a couch anyway, which is where she spent a majority of her life, I am not exaggerating, I am sure this is not uncommon among majorly depressed trauma survivors. Though my mom was incredibly talented (she knit a sweater with no mistakes or dropped stitches in a day the first time she decided to teach herself from a Woman’s Day “How-to” article 😳.) My stepfather worked and/or schemed for income, he was a conman, often taking money for services or goods and not coming through. At a very early age I learned how to field phone calls from angry customers. It is no surprise that we moved pretty often.

It was lonely being an only child for the years that I was one. I was incredibly close to my mom, almost too close. Though I was her minion and her ally for the most part she would tell me things to take the wind out of my sails and would dim my light if I got too excited about something. She told me way too much and often very adult things, I was treated as a confidant and taught to be disparaging to and about men, we often verbally ganged up on my stepfather who was constantly having affairs, his girlfriends calling and hanging up all of the time, sometimes waiting for him to come home with food until really late on a school night, lies dripping off of his tongue like rain off of a ducks back...Every now and then my mom would leave him but she would always come back. Years later, when I was an adult she said this was my fault because she said I was afraid we would be homeless... I can tell you this is not true, (I knew my grandparents and Dad would make sure that wouldn’t happen, at least when it came to me and my mom’s siblings would’ve taken her in). I often wished she would leave my stepfather and get a job but instead he got his vasectomy reversed and they had 4 more children after I turned 11...

I will pause the story right here and pick up some other time potentially. On a different subject...



In another episode of “Kara can’t catch a break lately,” I was really excited to announce a partnership with the dog rescue that we adopted all 3 of our pugs from. The rescue was on board and seemed excited as well and we were going to donate 10% of proceeds from all copies of “Fiona Plays With Her Beaver” that would be purchased in the month of December (we made this agreement in October). At the beginning of this month they asked for the link to purchase the book and were supposed to start promoting. When I noticed them not engaging with our promotional posts or putting out anything on the socials I messaged the president of the organization. He got back right away and said he reminded whomever was in charge of their social media and one Instagram story happened right away but that was it for days. I reached out again and he admitted that they were afraid that my book would offend donors 😳 Ummmm....Okay, I get that the title of my short tome can cause giggles and if you are going to let yourself be offended by a sweet little children’s book about my pug and her stuffed animal, well I can’t fault you as it is a free country BUT if you enter into a partnership with someone and knowingly don’t do your part of the agreement but intend on taking a check and hoping your “partner” doesn’t notice...YOU ARE SHADY and you did offend a donor...Me.


Gahhh! I am afraid my mood has been matching the time of year, the light fleeting as the darkness settles in, I find myself wanting to apologize to those that read my words but at the same time I am just sharing all sides of me and my truth is complicated and moody at times and like the puss that continuously drains from my body, it’s not always pretty and sometimes stinks.

Thank you for hanging with me thus far 😘


Until next time ♥️

















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