"Tragedy"s and Comedies

MY LIFE

Laughter, Tears, and The In-Between…

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  • The Beginning (Written April 27, 2024)

    The Beginning (Written April 27, 2024)

    “You’re so good with words!”  “You should write…”  I have heard these things for much of my life beginning in adolescence.  I developed a love for language likely because my Dad had his degree in English.  My Dad was my hero – the smartest man alive.  This man did the newspaper’s crossword puzzle every morning before going to his day job, would come home after working all day and work in the garage or in the yard, and manage to read three or more novels every week.  The librarians knew him.  I wish I had that ambition.  I think I longed to excel at English because I longed for that connection with him – to be like my Dad with his degree in English.  I felt like failing English would be failing him.  He was my Dad and always told me how smart I was – I wonder if most Dads say that anyway…  But, that is how the writing started and why wanting to use my words to best of my ability really meant something to me…  My writing has certainly changed my life.

    I have romanticized and fantasied writing about MY LIFE for over 20 years.  I would start and then stop…  Sometimes, visiting the past is painful, but I often find so much joy in visiting the past. 

    This will sound so incredibly silly but last week Taylor Swift released her “Tortured Poets Department” album.  Just the title made me think “I used to be a member of that department…”  In middle school and high school, I used to write A LOT!  Over the years, I destroyed so much of my writing because I looked back with embarrassment or I thought gosh, I don’t want my kids to stumble upon this.  But, I knew there was a notebook that contained some of my writing.  I hadn’t looked at it in well over 15 years…likely 20+.  I got the notebook out and looked through it.  I felt a profound sadness for the young teen woman who wrote these things.  I laughed at some of the things.  So many writings about doing drugs, suicidal ideations, self-harm…  There was anger…a lot of anger…  There was sadness…a lot of sadness…  This young woman was SCREAMING for help, but no one cared or they thought it was just creativity I suppose.  What I did find in so many of those writings wasn’t all hopeless… there was hope.

    I am so glad that sad young woman didn’t take her life or hurt anyone the way she spoke of in those writings.  I wish I could tell her everything would be okay.  I wish I could tell her it gets worse, but it also gets better.  And, just when you think it’s better, life sometimes knocks you down again… BUT, you keep getting up…  You have to get up.  If it isn’t over, then your story isn’t over.  So, keep “writing” your story…

    I have thought of life since I pulled those writings out last night and I thought I need to tell my story – even if it is just for me.  Maybe no one will read it, but I need this.  This will be a memoir to me.  I am doing this for me.  I am going to store the past on pages.  I will take my past off of the pages I wrote as a sad teen…  I will take my correspondence with my friends who are no longer here and those that are still here, but maybe our season has passed…or maybe we are still riding out this thing called life together.  It isn’t all sad though.  There is a lot of joy too.  It will be a compilation of many things past and also a lot of present…

    Life is full of “Tragedy” but there is also so much comedy…  And, sometimes there is comedy in the “Tragedy”…  But, where do I begin?

  • Lost

    I am in a sea of chaos and uncertainty. 

    I chose this voyage.

    Why was I allowed to be the navigator?

    Why let a lost soul lead the way?

  • Risk

    Fear of the unknown makes me feel afraid…

    I suppose fear is integrated into all of us for survival. But, taking the risk is why we left the cave… There was safety in the cave, but it was not survival because there was no thriving as a species. It is the cliche “No risk. No reward.” However, cliches exist for a reason. 

    Look at every person who has been successful.  Look at every happy couple who beat the odds stacked against them through circumstance.  Look at some of the happiest people you know, period. I believe it would be safe to say most if not all were risk takers.  

    The unknown is scary. The not taking the risk to know is scarier.

  • Intuition

    The mind can be powerful, wonderful…even great.

    The mind can be a trick to sabotage your fate.

    Things we want can be questioned and wasted.

    Things that are sweet are bitterly tasted.

    Optimism can bring wealth in several ways.

    Pessimism can steal them with amazing grace.

    Is it our gut instinct or is it a trick?

    Free will means that you must pick.

    You must close your eyes and take a leap…

    Sometimes you fly, but sometimes you fall…

    …and the drop is steep.

    What is life without the risk?

    A boring simulation on God’s floppy disk.

  • A Letter from My Father (Found April 2007)

    A Letter from My Father (Found April 2007)

    My father passed away April 25, 2007 in his sleep due to what we think was heart failure. In his passing, he left behind a three bedroom home he owned since the 70s. We went to clear his home and next to the recliner he sat in every morning and evening to do his cross words, read his novels, and watch his shows was a notebook he had kept as a journal. In the journal, I found a letter that was written to me and I never received. It was the best inheritance a daughter could ask for… A photo of the letter is above. I have transcribed the letter below for easy reading:

    “Allison, You are a leader, lead. We (you and me) weren’t  born to be good followers. Unlike me, learn to lead tactfully and intelligently. I think through the years that while people asked me for my opinion, they didn’t really want to hear it sometimes. But, we are strong personalities, and if we are prepared the place at the front can be ours. We can do and have anything we want if we keep it in our sights. And, yes, the world really does owe us something. If we play by the rules the world has set, we have a right to expect the best.”

  • Home

    …

    My engine had failed, stalled on the road…

    I was lost and looking to find a way “home.”

    I didn’t even know where home was to be found.

    I was living in a house called mine and looking around…

    Is home a place made of brick and mortar?

    Or is home a place, like my son and my daughter?

    Home is a metaphor and lost is too… 

    Quit looking around. Found is right in front of you. 

  • Marriage, Party of Three (October 2022)

    My husband is having an affair.

    My husband is an alcoholic and this torrid love affair is with booze.

    I tell myself “This is the guy you married.”  However, let’s be fair – I fell in love with a 22 year old and when we married two years later I was pregnant with our first child.  I guess I made the unfair assumption that as we grew older and raised our family, this affair would die down or maybe they would rendezvous occasionally.  I did not think it would become a daily affair. 

    I would be remiss to say that I have not had some issues with booze.  I have done many regretful things in my life under the influence of booze.  I have also had some really great times with it as well…  Right now, we are on a break.

    I have expressed my difficulties on dealing with this breakup.  To my husband, this must mean he better make up for my lost drinks because it seems it has only escalated his use.  I really didn’t quit with the intent of being sober forever, and honestly, I don’t want to.  However, in good conscience, I feel like I can’t because my children need one example of being stronger than a substance.  I want my kids to know that life is hard, but you get through it – you don’t fog it away.  I want my kids to know it is NOT okay to be drunk every day.  It is not good for your mind.  It is not good for your body.  It is not good for your soul.  IT IS NOT GOOD FOR YOUR MARRIAGE.

    I don’t want to make my husband choose between the booze and me.  I don’t necessarily think that is fair.  But, I do…  I do want him to choose between me and the booze because that is where I feel I am right now.  Every time I hear a can crack…  Every time he slurs a word…  I….am….triggered…  It is not fun.

    So, what is the “right” thing to do?  There isn’t one… All the options suck…  I try to compromise when he says he won’t drink during the week – only on weekends…Also, usually never happens…  It is a problem.  It is not fun.  And, if I were to suggest he choose between booze and me, I am afraid of what he would choose.  Because, ultimately,  I don’t think it would be me…

    Let me clear, he does not physically abuse my children or myself – that would be non-negotiable and the choice would be easy.  However, I do feel affected mentally and emotionally and sometimes his judgment under the influence can be reckless and questionable.

    I know no one is perfect.  I know there are worse alcoholics out there.  I know I am conflicted, angry, resentful, tired, frustrated…

    All my life, some of the most important people in my life carried a monkey on their back.  Monkeys can be fun.  Monkeys can be funny.  Sometimes though, monkeys are downright primitive, and they try to kill their keeper. 

    Alcohol is killing my marriage.  Do I sit back and watch my family drown?  “That’s just how it is..” “It could be worse..”  Well, it could be worse and I have stayed when I have used that justification, but IT IS WORSE.

    If we are not trying to learn, grow, be better, what are we doing?  What example are we setting?  Shouldn’t we all want to be on a journey to enlightenment instead of merely waiting for life to happen…or not happen…

    I do not know what the answer is.  I do not know how to fix this.  I do not know how to make things better.  But, it isn’t fair…  It wasn’t fair to the child I was to endure the effects of addiction and it’s not fair to my children.  It isn’t fair to the child my husband was when he had to endure the effects of addiction…alcohol addiction.  It isn’t fair to me.

    DISCLAIMER: Life forced Tyler into sobriety with some severe medical episodes. He has been sober since January 3, 2025.

  • Ultimatum – Boundary Letter to my Mother (June 2024)

    Mom,

    I am writing you this letter because I feel like it will be the best way to express everything I want to say to you.  I hate conflict and I don’t want to harbor this anger and resentment forever.  I guess I didn’t realize how much anger I was carrying until recently.  I am not sure there will be a resolution, but I think it will give you some insight into some of what I have been feeling and have expressed when consoling in therapy or friendships or simply commiserating with my sister.

    I know the past is in the past and we cannot change what is done.  We all have made mistakes and have done and/or said things we aren’t proud of.  We are all humans.  I don’t expect you to be perfect and I know I am not perfect.  However, we can take accountability for our actions and try to clear the air and breathe a bit better. 

    That being said, I don’t think you have ever openly admitted that you were a pill addict.  Your pill addiction affected me in so many ways in my youth with embarrassment, fear, and it put me in an environment where I was not safe as a child.  I know for you that you are likely embarrassed and wish you could do things differently or at least I would hope.  But, I would like for you to acknowledge that monster in our life existed.  To just say “I was an addict.  I am sorry” would be better than to pretend it never happened. 

    Sometimes, it’s hard to be angry about the things you did while under the influence because I am sure you don’t remember them, but we do.  I have even given you opportunities before to say, “I am sorry I was addicted to pain pills.”  I can even empathize with why you might have been – hell, if I had two junky sons who were stealing my money, things, and car, I would want to escape too.  But here’s the thing, I was a little girl that was there.  You were allowing me to live in an environment that wasn’t safe.  As a mother and adult, I look back at how you would sleep with a deadbolt on your door.  Having a minor in the house, you shouldn’t have allowed your adult sons in the home if you felt you had to deadbolt your bedroom door to safeguard your belongings.  What about safeguarding me?  I don’t say these things to make you feel like shit.  I promise I don’t.  But, I want you to know where my anger is coming from.

    I have particularly been extra angry since March on the anniversary of Matt’s death when you made that comment on Facebook.  It was inappropriate, mean, and frankly, wrong.  Then, in private messaging when I tried to explain to you why it was wrong you said some very nasty things about Cydney.  I don’t condone Cydney’s adult behavior, but everything she said to you she had the right.  If anyone gets to say anything about the situation, it is her.  It is HER MOM and HER DAD.  I wish no one had died.  I wish both hadn’t gotten back into drugs once they were good.  But, the past is done there…  I know you want to pretend that I didn’t rip your ass and you didn’t piss me off, but you did.  I meant everything I said. 

    Now, let’s fast-forward to Saturday.  I would suggest you read our text message correspondence again.  I’ll start by saying had you approached me differently, things would have been handled VERY differently, but I was still not on the best of terms with how things were left in March.  I am tired of pretending.  If you had said, “your sister’s ipad is here with Koko and her text messages are on there.  I didn’t mean to read them, but I did.  I saw what you and your sister said and my feelings are hurt.”  It would be completely different.  We both would have felt really bad.  But, you came with the ATTACK – spitting venom and expecting me to feel sorry.  It was wrong for you to read those messages.  They were none of your business.  However, you did and I am sorry.  But, I am not sorry with the way things went.  I didn’t “sick Dawn” on you.  I did call her and let her know you had access to ALL her text messages, because I would be pissed if ANYONE was reading my messages.  You vent about Frank, Tiffany, and so on, but we would never want them to see those messages because we are venting – it would hurt their feelings.  And, when we are escalated we sometimes makes inappropriate jokes or say things we don’t mean.  If Tyler saw some of the things I said about him when I am venting, he’d lock himself in a room to be sad and would be hurt.  We say these things out of trust in a message to confide and guide each other.  It doesn’t mean we mean what we are saying verbatim.

    You just kept going on and on and on and I said to stop.  Then, I wanted to be clear with my words that if you were not careful with yours, for my protection, I can’t continue a relationship with you.  It doesn’t mean I do not love you.  It means you are hurting me and I am not going to allow it anymore.  It’s called setting a boundary.  And, I wanted to be extremely clear that if your mouth got the best of you in front of MY children, that boundary would be set very quickly.  It. Was. Not. A. Threat. It was a BOUNDARY and a promise to do my best to keep my children safe.  I don’t talk about you in front of the kids in any way that is inappropriate, so when Asher said that, it was more innocent than anything and we all laughed about it.  Tyler and I don’t do that.  Even about his mother who has ZERO access and will NEVER have access to our children.  It’s none of their business.  We have simply told them she isn’t safe and we will explain when they are older.

    Your text message spitting venom came at me right as I was picking Romie up from dance and we were meeting our friends at Starbucks.  Romie knew immediately something happened because my mood shifted and I was shaking.  I told her that you and I had a disagreement but it was none of her business and we would figure it out.  That is all she knows.  I wish she didn’t have to know anything but she was there and she isn’t an idiot…

    Then, we went from no resolution to simply “see you tomorrow.”  Do you understand how that must have made me feel?  We just a very escalated conversation – I was escalated and you were okay with just bouncing over for a week.  Of course, it would have been fine, but I felt like several things should been said between where things were left to just pretending nothing happened and you coming to my house.  Smart move on your part to bring Frank.  I know you don’t like how much we love him, but he is a father figure to us.  He NEVER turned his back on us even when you weren’t together and the way he loves us and our kids should make you love him more.  You should be grateful.  There aren’t a lot of Franks in this world…

    I am not saying you were the worst mother and that times were all bad.  They weren’t and I know there were times you were hanging by a thread and you were doing the best you could at that time.  It doesn’t mean the bad times didn’t exist. It doesn’t mean that it wasn’t fair.  Dawn was given a lot of responsibility as a young child that continued into her young adulthood that wasn’t hers to take.  And, all she has ever felt is anger from you for it instead of you being grateful.  She helped protect the boys when their Dad was beating you.  She looked out for them when you couldn’t be there after the divorce to make sure they were safe when they had to go with him.  She basically raised me because for the first time in your life you had a successful career and I don’t think you have ever expressed your gratitude to her for that.  She didn’t have to come help me get ready for Halloween at school.  She didn’t have to keep me at her house and parent an additional child.  But, she did.  You may not be grateful but I am.  She kept me safe.  She kept the boys safe.  She has never felt enough for you.  She’s always felt it was just expected of her and she took it on.  I am sure it would be nice to hear that you are sorry she had to carry that burden.  That she was a child too – it shouldn’t have been her job to keep her brothers safe.  That you are sorry.  I mean if you are…

    Like I said, I know I haven’t been perfect.  I have made mistakes and said and done things as a parent I am not proud of that I am sorry for.  I know there are times, I wonder if Tyler’s alcoholism is causing the same abuse to my children that your drug abuse and the boys drug abuse inflicted on my youth.  Am I repeating a pattern?  Life is hard…  We are all still figuring it out the older we get.  Unfortunately, we don’t keep knowing everything after adolescence like we think we do…

    You don’t have to say anything to me.  I don’t want you to say anything you don’t mean, and I don’t want this letter to put you on the defense to say mean things.  I just wanted you to know my feelings.

    There is a lot more I could probably say, but I think this is probably it.

    So, I close saying, I don’t hate you.  I love you.  Parents are people too.  People make mistakes.  But, we can’t pretend things didn’t happen.  I do want to move forward because I am tired of giving the past so much control of my present.  I want my kids to have at least one good Grandma in their life.

    Love,

    Allison

  • Beauty Essay (Written January 2000)

  • Research Paper on Adolescent Suicide (Written February 2001)

  • Research Paper on Self-Mutilation (Written May 2000)

    The poem is something I personally wrote. 🖤