What am I???

I was born through C section, at 7 months gestation. My mother was hemorrhaging, probably placenta previa (this was the year 1947, no one knew about that then). She was in hospital for 24 hours before a C section was done, don’t ask me why. The Dr. told my father I was dead “no heartbeat”, and my mother might die during delivery. Why did I survive?

In the nursery, they fed me the wrong thing, I lost weight, I almost died. Why did I survive?

At age five, I contracted double pneumonia and (what was later determined) pericarditis (infection of the sack that holds the heart). I was too sick to move, there were no childrens’ wards then. I had an NDE. The Blessed Mother came to me, I remember it very clearly, a liquid “brown”, a blinding light that suffused into a figure sitting to my right hand side. She told me I would have a “broken heart” and suffer greatly, and asked if I was willing to do this for the purpose of God. My biological mother shook me because she thought I was dying or dead. I remember opening my eyes and telling her, “Leave me alone, I want to be with the lady.”

My entire life this apparition was before me, always. I knew there was “something” I was supposed “to do”, I just did not know what it was. I thought, believed, it involved a cataclysmic event, perhaps worldwide (and it might yet). I was given a number: 23. As I grew older, that number became quite obviously important; not superstitious, important. On the 23rd day of various months (far apart in my life), life changing and enormously challenging things occurred to me and so I began to fear that number. At age 39, probabaly on July 23, 1986, I conceived my daughter. I was infertile, I had a tilted uterus, I had endometriosis (serious), I had one dead ovary (I didn’t know it). This was the child I begged God for. I asked for a “child to raise”…not a baby, a “child to raise” because I had worked through the damage done to me by my biological mother and father and I knew I would be the absolute best mother possible. He answered me. I refused the amniocentesis because I said, “I will take whatever God gives me.”

My daughter was never “normal”. She was an irritable baby (even before birth), a difficult “wild child” until about age five, not what I expected but I loved her with my entire being. She was God’s gift to me in a lifetime of rejection, dismissal, emotional injury, loss, abandonment, and pain. she was the light of my life Sad to say, in her letter to me prior to her suicide, she said, “You have been the light of my life.”

I watched this glorious soul, brilliant, absolutely beautiful, so intelligent and gifted, slowly turn from about age 15 until her death into a “stranger” to herself and to me. I couldn’t stop it. I used to pray to God, PLEASE LET ME DIE TONIGHT because I couldn’t stop it. I did everything humanly possible, fought the system, dragged in a world famous psychiatrist, locked up everything in my home to prevent suicide in a safe behind a padlocked closet in my bedroom which had a deadbolt lock on it I COULDN’T STOP IT. Oh my God, He allowed my child to take her life, He took from me the only thing that made my life worth living.

It is more than three years later. I have traveled the world, I have done everything in my power to achieve sainthood so I could earn JUST ONE Plenary Indulgence for her. Thirty Gregorian Masses were said for her. I stood in general audience before Pope Francis, for her. What more can I do? And why am I still alive?

Did I truly fulfill a purpose as told me by my Mammon Marie, or am I deluding myself? I have been shipwrecked. I now live in a lifeboat. With me in that lifeboat is a dangerous animal, a Bengal Tiger. There is no land in sight. At times, I can calm the Tiger; at other times, it attempts to kill me. No safe harbor. WHAT AM I, why has God chosen me for this? Does ANYONE have any intuitive or spiritual answer? I feel like a freak, a total failure, a mistake, an accident. And I rest my head in the lap of my Mammon Marie every morning and every night because, without her warning, I would not be alive. My daughter was age 23. She took her life on the 2nd day of the 3rd month. She called me at 4:23PM and after that call I jumped off the couch and KNEW, I just KNEW. WHAT am I?

You are a loved, cherished, hurting, wounded, precious and wonderful child of the Creator. Your faith is remarkable. Your writing is so deeply articulate and raw that it cuts my heart just to read it. If I could hug you, I would. If I could let you cry with me, I would. Your pain is palpable.

Continue to rest in the arms of our Mother, who leads all to her Son.

My heart bleeds in prayer for you.

Lord of our Hope, hear our prayer!!

Well…

One thing is for sure,

At least on CA You are among people that potentially could be the best friends you ever had

I pray with all my heart that this place becomes a place of refuge and peace.
May the Holy Spirit flood the souls of all on this forum.
There are so many stories today of desolation and of sadness.

Today is the first day in a long time I didn’t go to Mass. I decided to spend time here instead. I usually lift up everyone on this forum at Mass and their intentions. But today, out of fatigue I am resting here.

Remember how at the Mass we are reunited in many ways with those we love. I pray God’s infinite Mercy on you and your daughter. At the Holy Holy Holy, may God allow your daughter to attend Mass with you, at least in spirit. This is where I pray for all my deceased relatives and ancestors. This is also where I ask the Lord to bless my descendants, if I ever have any.

I pray that the Lord speaks to you clearly about your next step in following his Will and finding that PEACE that exists beyond ALL UNDERSTANDING.

And that you find peace here, in this safe place, with fellow brothers and Sisters in this Holy Church.

I feel like my words will be so inadequate… you suffer from a broken heart in more ways than one, you offer up your suffering for Christ. This is so Christ-like and holy! And this is the greatest thing that anyone can do. Starting a billion-dollar company like Bill Gates, becoming president of the US, those types of things are *nothing *compared to what you do. You loved your daughter and she loved you–inventing cars or going to the Moon is *nothing *compared to that.

Mother Mary, pray for your little girl Povero…

Hail Mary, full of grace, the Lord is with thee. Blessed art thou amongst women, and blessed is the Fruit if thy womb, Jesus.

Holy Mary, Mother of God, pray for us sinners now and at the hour of our death–Amen

You are a loving mother.
And,
You are…a writer.

You wrote that post with such vivid detail and unique style, it was riveting in it’s sadness and yearning to understand.
I think you should write more about your daughter. Perhaps you can help other young people with mental illness and that can be a good reason “to live”.
For many, the illness rears it’s head in the teen years and gets worse right at that age of 23, as it did for your daughter. I know several young people this happened to.

Maybe a feature magazine article? Or a book? About you and your daughter and love and not giving up and what you wrote here.

You should keep writing about this.

Sending you strength–

DG
.

What happened to her father?

I had an open door, I never dated another man, never. He wanted a divorce, I gave it to him, I had no choice. Long story. I moved 150 miles to the “country” because I thought peace, great beauty (it is absolutely beautiful here, more beautiful than the Pyrenees Mountains) and normal kids in school (where we lived on Long Island, she had been bullied for not dressing like the other girls, all of whom looked like hookers), close her cousins and Aunt. He allowed me to move, I gave him plenty of decision making here. And then he came to see her maybe four times a year. When she began to become actually psychotic and was hospitalized, he did not come to see her because he had been there the day before and the hospital had refused to admit her. During the summer 2010 when I found all sorts of ravings in a journal she kept in her email account, he came and we did an intervention, trying to get her to acknowledge that she really did need the therapist she was seeing and she really did need to take the medication prescribed by the psychiatrist. A week or two later, I called and asked him if he would please, please come get her and let her spend a few weeks with him. I was having a breakdown. His answer, “I can’t DO THAT TO VIRGINIA (his wife)”. The day my daughter took her life, her father set out to get to my house because I knew she had purchased a shot gun. Every cop and emergency worker in this tight community, this county, were out looking for her car, pinging the cell phone (it doesn’t work like it does in the movies, believe me). When they found her, I was later told that dozens upon dozens of cop cars and trucks and ambulances were there and that they were all crying, all the men. I put myself into the hospital. They let me out three days later, on a Saturday. Her father left me, he went home. Alone. That’s what happened to her father.

Povero I am very sorry about all that has happened to you, especially the death of your daughter. I pray God shows you His will and His love in a clear and tangible way. :signofcross:

Our Father, Who art in heaven,
Hallowed be Thy Name.
Thy Kingdom come.
Thy Will be done, on earth as it is in Heaven. Give us this day our daily bread.
And forgive us our trespasses,
as we forgive those who trespass against us.
And lead us not into temptation,
but deliver us from evil. Amen.

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