When Life Happens

By Lea LaRuffa

If you have found yourself alone, abused, neglected and unwanted. And have contemplated ending your life on so many occasions. Then When Life Happens, will help you restore your soul, and your faith; if not in humanity, than in yourself.

Follow the life of a childless and homeless woman, who spent her life caring for others, loving others; while

• Language: English
• Publisher: Lea LaRuffa
• Release date: Jul 16, 2015
• ISBN: 9780994260994

Book preview

How would you feel if you woke up one day and realized that all your dreams, and all your aspirations had come to fruition? Would you rejoice, celebrate, be overwhelmed, or accepting of your blessings, as though they were deserved to someone like you? I have often thought of what it would be like to wake up and realize that all my dreams, my aspirations, my fantasies, had come true. Would I pinch myself to ensure that reality was indeed a reality? Or assume that I had woken up into a dream?

I think about that often as I sit under my neighborhood bridge. I used to live 4 blocks away, in a house I thought would always be my home; where the smells were familiar and every crack in the wall represented a milestone, a perfect memory.

I shall perish in the next three or four weeks; I know that. My body won’t be found for months, and when it is found, it would be beyond recognition. I would be buried in the city cemetery without a name and without a distinction.

So if my story is not told now, it may never be told.

The bridge I had driven over thousands of times never paying any attention to what could possibly be under it; has been my home now for the past few years. I have lost count how many years. How does an 80 year old woman; a wife, a mother, grandmother, a daughter, end up alone in the cold, day after day, night after night, fighting not only to survive, but to retain ownership of her tiny place under the bridge? Of which rats, mice, birds and insects were trying to do the same. How could something like this happen to anyone? Why should something like this happen to anyone? On top of everything else, you are ill, and unable to medicate; you are a diabetic.

Diabetes doesn’t just happen to the obese. It is a disease reserved for the hungry, angry, stressed and depressed. Not to mention that diet and genetics also plays a big role in the disease. Therefore, being homeless does not immediately put you in the uneducated category. Having no medication or the means to reach out for medical help, one would assume that demise was your only option; as no other option would ever be offered. Humanity is many things, kind on most level it is not. Many have passed me by under the bridge, and over it, and have never stopped to ask if I was alright. On the contrary the judgmental looks received are criticism in movement, is what I had always called them. Having a negative opinion about someone makes it much easier to tolerate doing nothing.

As I think back on my life, I realize that like everyone else, there are stories which hit you at your heart and soul, which reshapes it in to a completely different organ; things which affect you, and break you, at the core of your existence. Things you may never recover from, and things which shape you beyond recognition. How could one allow oneself to change so drastically? How could love turn into betrayal, hatred and loneliness. How many times can one heart break, and yet remain intact for further punishment?

So perhaps we should start in the beginning. I grew up like everyone else, with two parents; and believed at the time that nothing could ever harm me. Naïve and stupid should have been my middle names on many occasions in my life. But I am afraid that intellect is sometimes the second in command when your heart takes over your life. It is hard to distinguish between faith and love from the reality of your daily life. When you assume everything would always remain as is, and life would only become more perfect as you aged; given the freedom to do as you choose. No one ever teaches you that freedom is a gift, not a choice, and certainly not an entitlement. Especially when you share the same roof with others who are often more in control of your life than you are. The oppressors I used to call them. As time passes and life takes its toll, you realize that what you had always thought was a given, was in fact temporary. Everything you had always imagined was in essence a fantasy, an illusion. Your dreams would most likely turn into nightmares, and your goals dissipate before your eyes. All the wishing and hoping and dreaming and crying and poetry, will not create the life you had imagined you would have.

Adding to this, you have a mother who is over protective, and a father who lacks interest in your existence altogether.

All you want is an escape. But you have nowhere to go. You have kept a secret, well more than one, but one which prevented you from doing certain things in your life. Something you had never shared with anyone; and would most likely not share for a while, if at all.

Life gradually forces you to take responsibilities for your existence. You go to school, socialize, dream of a better future; dream of getting away from the oppressors in your life. But life retains its status quo. You hope to meet someone, a trustworthy individual who would share your dreams and visions; someone who would support you. You date and date and date, all under the iron fisted regimented individual which is your mother. Who claimed she had your best interest at heart. For lack of her own security, she prevents you from enjoying life as a young person should; so you find yourself sneaking out of your bedroom window at many a night, to share life with others.

You find a few jobs along the way which at a young age while living at home were enough to sustain your independent lifestyle, such as it was. As time goes on you meet a boy. Not at all your cup of tea, or your liking, but he shares one of your secrets. He, being lonely and unlucky in love, he pulls at your heart strings, and allows you the independence to leave home; finally the ability to be yourself, unrestricted, uncontrolled and free. Although having no clue that this would be a temporary melody which would eventually change its tune for the worse.

You buy a house with this boy, get pregnant, and eventually get married. Everything in the reverse order you had always imagined it to be. And then everything changes. You find out he has to have control of all your moves, your thoughts, your actions, and even your sleep cycles. He makes all the decisions, and when you object, you are punished severely. You try running away so many times, only to always end up back where you started. Making excuses for your bruises becomes an art form, and you couldn’t wait for the next excuse which was to leave your mouth; having to explain your decorative black and blue marks on your person. Your husband continues to try to convince you that what was happening was all a figment of your imagination, and after a while you actually begin to believe it. I must be crazy; everyone says how lucky I am to be with him. How kind and generous he is. It must be me. Something is definitely wrong with me. You continue to believe this for years. They used to say how smart and intelligent you were. They must have all been crazy too. Intelligent people don’t make up such stories, do they? Not unless they truly are crazy. So for the sake of the children you stay put. At least that’s what you keep telling yourself. When you were pregnant with your first child your husband came home one day and decided he was going to blow his brains out in your walk in closet. Being so confused, naïve, and stupid, all you could think about is how the blood would ruin all the clothes in the closet. So you actually stand in the closet, pregnant, and fight him to try to get the gun out of his hands. And when you finally do, you get hit in the face this time, as to not hurt the baby; hitting the baby, that would be concrete evidence. Something you could never prove before, because there was always an excuse, a reason, a cop-out. You endure this ongoing verbal and physical abuse for a few years, until a second baby arrives, a preemie, who would spend his next three months in the hospital.

You run to and fro with filled milk bottles, to help strengthen, and improve your baby’s life. While taking care of your first baby; your two year old. This would go on for several months, until you receive the all clear, and get permission to take your preemie home. Now the stress really begins. At the hospital, there were qualified people who could take care of your baby. Is maternal instinct enough to equal a hospital staff, and acquire the capabilities to take care of a preemie? Only time would tell. Day by day, week by week pass by, and your baby begins to thrive. The little 5 pounder becomes a 10 pounder, and a 20 pounder. He is a healthy little boy.

But life is tough. Your husband continues to abuse you, and gets away with it. It goes on for years. And you learn to cope. At least until the children get older. This is what you keep telling yourself. Eventually, you have enough strength and go through hell and divorce this person; only to hear "if you divorce me I will kill you and the children." Nevertheless you persevere, and get enough courage to go through with it. Only to find out that the judge in charge of your case, in another county, is the father of your ex’s best friend. You sit in a room, listening to the so called judge compare his poodle to your children. And as you shed a tear due to the hardship that has been forced upon you; you get screamed at and ridiculed by your Ex’s attorneys, the heartless bitches that they were. That shedding a tear may sway the outcome of the judge’s decision, being an inferior male. And you get told that men are capable of taking care of children; despite the fact that your ex never changed a diaper in his life. You become the bad one. And eventually, your children are taken away. Yelling, screaming, but they get taken away. For years you try to make arrangements to see your children, and there is always a reason, why you can’t. Until months go by and you can no longer see them. No matter what you do, or who you contact. Your ex is always there to block it for you.

As time passes by, you learn to live with the hole in your heart, knowing that one day, your intelligent children will wake up and smell the coffee. But you find out, that was not the case. Having been brainwashed for so long; whatever intellect these children used to have, has been converted to mush. More disappointments in your life and more heartache. No one knows your sorrow; no one knows your pain.

Until, one day out of the blue, you meet an incredible man; one with a heart, compassion, and understanding. A God sent. You fall in love, and with his strength, you find yours. You realize that things sometimes happen for a reason. It may take time to make that assessment, but when you have realized it, your whole life changes for the better. You realize that life, in fact, is in the hands of time. You keep being told that time heals all wounds. And you keep telling yourself that. Eventually, you have the strength to think of yourself, and you decide to get as far away as humanly possible, from the one person you never, ever, ever, wanted to see again. If there was an option to leave the planet; you would be the first one in line. So you decide it was time to start a new life. And put the past where it belonged. Hoping that one day your children would wake up, and realize what had happened. Sadly, that never occurs.

And so life continues, and you begin a brand new chapter; one for you and your husband. Life is great. Life is wonderful. You are so happy, you are petrified, could life remain so great, and if so, for how long? But it does. If nothing else, it becomes better as each year passes by. And you learn to live with the emptiness; the hole in your heart. You realize, you are not the only one living with pain, and you form relationships which fill the void, temporarily that is. Hoping that one day, that hole would be filled by something else. But it doesn’t, and never will. A mother needs her children, and children need their mother; no matter how old they are.

So aside, from the hole in your heart, life goes on. You learn new skills, new coping mechanisms. And the love provided by your spouse is enough to fill in all the voids of your life, including that of friends and family. Not too many people can make this claim. You begin to travel the world, and learn new cultures, new religions, and acquire many new friends along the way. Life is great. Life is a fairy tale. Could all this really be true?

Until one day, you meet a professional. A Psychologist; and he begins explaining to you, why you are the way you are. You begin to see yourself from a completely new perspective. You realize life is what you make of it. You realize that the journey is just that, a journey. Open to interpretation, and your decision, to be happy, or not. Either way, it is your story, and yours to write, and rewrite, as many times as you wished. As long as at the end of it, you decide what the ending is. You begin to see life, completely differently. You are now in control, of everything, and everyone around you. No longer, will anyone have the power to hurt you physically, or verbally.

You begin to work, with women, who have suffered the same atrocities you have. And having that experience allows you the heart, and compassion to help others become as strong as you have become. And those women in turn, do the same for others. Finally, your life has some meaning; you have come into your own. You begin to work, more and more and more. And realize that work, too, fills in a void, a gap, that thing that was missing in your life, was now being substituted by something else. Concentrating on other women’s problems seems to blind you, and mask your emotions. You no longer concentrate on your feeling, your wishes, your heartache; you are now concentrating on others. Your life’s focus is now focused on others. Not you.

So life passes by, and you feel fulfilled, you feel accomplished, you feel needed and worthwhile. Until you realize that all along, you had become so accustomed to being invisible; having helped so many people, no one sees you as a human being anymore, just another piece of equipment. You’re back to square one. Used, and discarded. As long as you helped, as long as you gave you were wanted. The minute you stood up for yourself, and realized you were being used, you were no longer needed. Sometimes you could be surrounded by so many people and yet be so incredibly and utterly alone, that it tears your heart out.

So life changes yet again. And you decide to pursue a new direction. The question is what could you do? Where could you turn? What could you contribute for the betterment of others? Can you contribute? You become depressed for a brief moment. As your strength, your inspiration, puts you back on track; your husband.

And then you decide you would try decorating, painting, restoration, and creating new things. Making them better, making them wanted, made you feel the same. The more things you had to restore, the better you felt, and the hole in your heart would be repaired; sometimes for 2 to 3 minutes, and sometimes for days. So you buy and you buy and you attempt to fill that void. And you realize that the more you do, and the more you fill the emptiness in your home, the bigger the void gets, and the more you have to work to restore that void. Until you wake up one day, and realize, that the void only exists in your mind, and your heart. And repairing and restoring and fixing and moving and redecorating things, would never make you feel any better. You are designed to love. You are designed to give, and do for others, that fulfils you.

Your education allows you to follow your heart for a while, and assist those who are injured at work to return to a normal standard of life. They have someone to talk to, to rely on, and you have the ability to help another. So day, after day, after day, you find those who need help, and help those individuals get their lives and livelihood back. You work long and hard, and are exhausted enough by the time you arrive home to mask the emptiness, and the reasons you are working these long hours; enough to fall asleep, and wake up the next day to start the cycle yet again. You have the stamina to do this for a few years, until you grow tired of the routine, the lack of gratitude, the lack of remuneration. So one day, out of the blue you decide you have had enough, and it was time to focus elsewhere. The question was where. You need to keep busy. You need to focus your mind on something or someone. You need to preoccupy your brain, or you know the lack of doing something, will cause you to explode.

And while you are suffering on, trying to sustain life, in order to allow it to sustain you; you begin to experience abdominal pains. So severe, so life intrusive, so overpowering, these pains would bring you to a complete stop. But having no other options after seeing countless of professionals around the world, you learn to live with these pains. You know what needs to be done, when it happens, and you know how long the pain will last; until you regain control. So as though the anguished life you carry in your heart is not enough, more has just been added. Now you live with the love of your husband, the void of your children, the void of your existence, present and future, and now with an additional physical pain. You realize you are on this planet to learn, you realize you are on this planet to correct the wrongs you have done in the past, present, and possibly the future. You find it hard to believe that we carry burdens from a pre-existent life to the present one; but you have to convince yourself there has to be a reason why so much shit, happens to you in life, when everyone else you know has a much better life than you have, when they contribute nothing to themselves, the world, or anyone else for that matter. All they do is take, and take and take, never giving a second thought to anyone else. And yet, they succeed without trying. They are handed rewards on a plate, when you are always the one to wash that plate. Why you wonder? How awful could you have been in this life, the previous life, to be punished in such a way in this life, continuously? Days and weeks and months go by, and all you do is think, and contemplate, and plan on how to repair the wrongs you have done to who knows who, in order to repair your life. But no matter how long you think, how long you plan, how long you work, and pray, and wish, and promise; nothing changes. In fact, life becomes harder the older you get.

You contemplate suicide on so many occasions. Because you know you have reached a point of no return. Nothing ever works for you. No matter how many hours and days