i have a name

my house was hit by lightning. and today i spoke with an insurance man who was not very nice. not by anyone's standards. he spoke with a voice that felt angry to me. and i am uncertain as to why. i was trying to be cordial. but instead i felt like i was doing something wrong in reporting the damages i sustained.

i am not a child. i am a full grown woman. a college graduate. a teacher. a mother of four. i would like to be treated with respect. i do not like when people talk to me in a voice that says they think i am stupid. i want to ask them if they feel they have a right to be rude. but i do not ever ask that. instead, i follow all of the insurance man's instructions. to the letter. immediately.

a repairman calls me back, the man at the other end of the phone says to me. hello rhonda..how are you? i am stunned. he called me by a name..my name. rhonda. and he asked me how i was. i am never asked how i am. no one cares enough to ask. but this man who tells me his name is billy, asked. when i tell him what happened with the insurance man, billy gets upset. he tells me i should not allow anyone to talk to me like. why do you do that, he asks me? why do you let an insurance man talk that way to you. i cannot tell billy the answer. i cannot tell billy, this voice at the other end of the phone, that i let people treat me that way all of the time. because i know i do not matter enough to demand more.


billy assures me that he will take care of everything and he makes me promise that i will not worry. and i believe this man named billy, who i do not know. because today, i need to believe in someone. i need some proof that there is still good in this world. i need to have hope.
do you think billy knew when he called me that my heart was hurting? do you think he had any way to know that he made me smile? i think everything happens just as it is supposed to; and that billy knew he made me feel worthy of a name; and worthy of respect. i think in my heart god sent billy to me today to remind me i need to stay strong, stay focused, and not give up. not just yet.

i cannot tell you one thing that i do right. i can tell you in vivid detail all that i do wrong. i can tell you the times and the dates of my mistakes. of my grevious errors..like the time i bought the wrong potato chips and was scolded in front of my children. i know the right potato chips and i bought the wrong brand on purpose; to make you angry. at least that is what you tell me i was thinking. you always know what i am thinking. and why i do what i do. i can tell you about all of the meals gone bad or the forgotten items that i was supposed to get at the store. i forget things on purpose to make you angry. if i was not so selfish and stupid, i would remember and you would not get angry. it is my fault you are always angry. it is within my power, so you say, to control 'your' anger. and when you are angry, which is no doubt because of something i have done wrong; it is then my job to make it right. to do something to show you i am not selfish. it is my job to do something just for you. so you will not be angry anymore. i can tell you all of my physical flaws..all of my mental flaws... and all of my emotional shortcomings. i know because you tell me. like i said, you know me better than i know myself. or so i have been told. by you..



i write for myself. not for you or anyone else. i do not care if you read what i write or if you like what i write. i do not like when you laugh at what i write. that loud phony laugh. it makes me feel sick to my stomach. i write the truth as i know it. as i feel it. i write what i need to say, but i am afraid to say. when i write, i am reminded i have something to say. in my real life with you, i have no voice. i am no one special. i write for me. so that i can feel something. so that i can remember what i feel and what i think.. all on my own. without you telling me.

i am a great pretender. you would never guess that when you look at me i am afraid you are looking because i am so ugly. you would never guess that i am funny so that you will not see that i have tears in my eyes, burning, ready to fall at a moments notice. you would never guess that when i wake up every morning i am terrified. of you. of who you will be. and when you start slamming doors and cabinets my insides tighten up and i want to run scared, but i cannot move. i try to pretend i am asleep or better...dead. you would never guess, because i do not tell you. i do not tell you because there is no reason to; you know everything about me. or so you say.

i do not think people would ever guess that i am a mistake. but i know the truth. i have been told so many times it is ingrained in my every pore. every day of my life without fail i know i am wrong. and i know how very lucky i am that you provide for me. i know that no one else could ever love me because i am so wrong. i know because you tell me. everyday. in every possible way.

i stopped feeling physical pain before i could drive a car. it was the only way i figured out how to survive. i could, at will, turn off everything inside my heart and simply exist. i am almost 45..i have now been simply existing for almost 30 years. it is my greatest secret. when you laugh at me..in my face or you spit on me. i feel nothing. i am someplace safe inside my head. i can stay there and be safe until you are finished.you never seem to be finished. you think you are hurting my heart. but you do not know that my heart died long ago. maybe it was the first time you spit on me. or maybe it was when you told me you get rid of your anger by having sex with me. i do not remember.

i will not allow myself to love or to trust another person. if i love, i will be betrayed. you taught me that. i will not trust anyone enough to take that chance. ever. it is better to feel nothing. feeling nothing hurts much less than betrayal. being betrayed must be the worst feeling a body can experience. it tastes like warm blood. it feels like i am drowning and i cannot scream because the water will fill my mouth..so i try to make a noise ..something..but nothing comes out. i am helpless.

i have been told that i need to learn to feel anger. that it is okay to feel anger. that i have a right to feel anger. i am afraid to feel it. i am afraid that i do not know how. i am afraid that it will hurt too much. if i feel the anger, then i will have to accept reality. the truth is instead of being angry at you, i take the anger and turned it inside. i let it eat me up. soon there will be no me at all. the anger will have eaten me all away.

i need to learn to be angry at the people who deserve it instead of blaming myself for everything that happens . i cannot control every thing and i certainly cannot control what you say or do. when you say that you care, but then you turn on me for no apparent reason and call me names , that is your problem. not mine. and it is not my job to clean up the mess and make eveything better. it is your job to remember to be good and kind to other people. but i always clean up because that is my job. i am the cleaner-upper of all things ugly. i am an enabler. i allow you to behave badly because you know that i will never complain so loud that you can hear. you know that as much as i do not want to believe you, i do. every stinking foul word you utter. every mean word you say to me. i believe.

i smile so no one will know i have a heart that is broken into a million pieces from your cruel words. the insults, the laughter at my stupidity...it is all saved inside the place that i call my heart. at night, when i am still..i hear your words over and over until i think i will burst. and then i fall asleep hoping that tomorrow will be better. safer. happier. it never is.

you call me weak and tell me you hate me. but i am far from weak. i have learned to live a life that has been one beating after another. i have learned to stay reasonably sane in a world where nothing sane exists. i have learned to live in a state of fear and still have some semblence of a working mind. i am not weak. i am strong enough to have figured out how to survive all of this craziness.

i have not lost all hope yet. i hope i never give up. if i do, that means i have let you and everyone like you win. so i dream. inside my head. of a place where i will be treated like i matter. and for a short while i am happy. but it is all in my head. someday. if i am good enough. i will matter outside my head.

i have a name. i have things to say and i have a heart that wants to be loved.

you will not ruin me. not as long as there is a 'billy' on the other end of the phone to make me remember that i exist. that my name is rhonda.