Simple hello…

Hello darlins’,

Just wanted you all to know that the Wilson family is slowly but surely pulling through. It’s been a whirlwind of emotions. We’re hoping for a better year next year. We lost too many friends and family last year and aren’t sure how much more we can take. We know we’re not alone and the only ones enduring such hard times. This is something everyone must face. This loss just hit a little closer to home and broke our hearts.

It’s times like this I realize I’m much better with my words on here than in RL. Not sure why that is, but I can put more into my words when I’m left alone to my thoughts and a pen or keyboard at hand. When I’m in the now and hit with the inevitable – my mind goes into a tunnel, and I can’t say what it is I’m really feeling or thinking. It’s there; I just can’t get it out. I’ve always been like that. Perhaps that’s my reason for turning to my stories so much. I feel freer to express myself, always have. That can be a gift and a curse. You see, I’m the fucking WORST when it comes to consoling people (or that’s how I feel anyhow), even that of my own fucking husband because I don’t know what to say or do. I fear that I will say or do something wrong and hate myself afterward. But I do my damnest to be there, even if it’s just an ear or shoulder to cry on or if someone needs to unleash a little steam.

Kristi (my husband’s sister) was supposed to come down and visit the very week she died. She’d talked to my husband the day before and asked him what size shirt he wore, for a gift she had in mind. I think that’s what hit us hardest. My husband and his father had to pack everything up at the house she was living in, which is a few hours away from us. She’d just moved in not long ago, and there were price tags on things she hadn’t even got to wear or use yet. I’ve spent nearly three days going through the stuff my husband brought home. Every time I find a price tag or something that I know was probably meant as a Christmas gift it breaks me and I can only imagine what my husband and his father are going through.

It’s been a crazy, emotional, and tiresome couple weeks and we haven’t even had the funeral yet. There are still arrangements to be made and other things to take care of.

You see I’m sitting here at my desk, trying to find my muse, but all I can think about is Kristi and everything my husband is going through. I haven’t written since we found out. Normally, I turn to my writing as a source of therapy but no matter how much I try… nothing. I can look my notes over and the current chapter I’ve written, and I can even add bits and pieces here and there. But when I legit try… nothing.

Fear not, I know I’ll get there. I’ve got my headphones on, my Galway Girl playlist going, and determination on my side. I know if I just give it a little more time and patience, I will get there. Loss and heartaches have a funny way about things. They fuck with your mind. It makes you question everything. And talk about the worst case of insomnia… I’ve always dealt with insomnia, but it’s at an all-time high and I just fucking lay there fucking thinking and thinking and thinking, to the point of wanting to scream. I just want to shut it all off, even if for a day and go back to normal (well normal for me). I know I’ll get there. And I’ll do my damnest to get my husband and children there as well.

I want to thank everyone for their kind words, vibes, thoughts, and prayers (via FB as well). It truly has meant a lot.

As to the douchebag that gave me hell when they found out about my husband’s sister, this message/post obviously isn’t for you. Anyone that can use death and rape as a way to verbally abuse someone needs their head examined. You’re the lowest of low, and there is no hope for you. It’s like that song from Shinedown. No one likes a bully, and no one’s going to miss you when you’re gone. Cruel? You betcha. But no crueler than the terrible things you said about me, my family, and my friends. Oh, and FYI next time be a man and sign in under your actual account name instead of a guest reviewer. I’d say you’re a pussy but like Betty White once said… Those things take a pounding and you clearly can’t. You just sit behind that keyboard of yours and continue in your trolling, psychotic, abusive ways. Karma truly is a bitch, and she’ll find you when she’s ready.

Alright, Imma hit post on this here soon and hope for a little luck with my writing tonight. So if you guys could send some my way, I’d truly appreciate it. I need this, just a night of normalcy, back to my roots. So my fingers are crossed as I said… I’m determined!

For those wondering when I’m getting back to social media… Just give me a little more time. I dipped my toes in today but wasn’t quite ready. As for my husband, it will be a while. I can tell you that much. I meant it though when I said we have the best support system. You guys are always there, always understanding, and always eager to lend us your ears and hearts. We couldn’t ask for anything better. Thank you!

All my love,
Harley

 

Heads up.

Galway Girls chapter 39 is up. I think there was some confusion as some readers messaged me about this earlier. The link itself is in the disclaimer page before it. I had to have that there to prevent getting sued.

Also, I might be running more behind than usual after recent events. My husband’s sister unexpectedly passed away today. So this has thrown our family for a loop and naturally we all need some time to heal. I need to be there for my husband and my children. I know you all understand and will patiently wait. I just wanted to give you guys the heads up.

Love to you all,

Harley

Update: Galway Girls

 

For those that follow me on my FB author page and on FB you already know my husband’s sister passed away today. This was unexpected and took us all by surprise. I said the chapter would be delayed because of this. But I was sitting here and going stir crazy while my husband was away and consoling his father. So I actually needed the distraction.

Clink on the link below and it will take you to the disclaimer. The disclaimer will have a link to the actual chapter itself. Buttons aren’t up because I don’t have the patience for them as the site is being fussy today. I will add them once my head is clearer.

I truly hope you all enjoy. I put my heart and soul into this and hope I did it justice.

Thank you,

Harley

Disclaimer for chapters 39-41

 

 

Never Give Up

Hello, my name is Harley,

Just writing that alone felt like a line at an AA meeting… My hands tremble with every word. I keep telling myself it’s because I’m not feeling very well. My daughter’s been sick, and like most parents, we catch what they have. But no that’s not the reason.

First off, I apologize for the wait on the latest Galway Girls chapters. The muse has taken off but at a cost as these are the hardest chapters I’ve ever written in my entire life. That’s not an exaggeration. I cannot tell you how many times I’ve had to stop just to collect myself. That’s how much this story means to me. That’s how much these characters mean to me.

And that… is the reason my hands are trembling.

Some of you have been reading my stories for a little over four years, which is fucking AWESOME by the way. You’ll never know how much your support means to me. Four years but you don’t know my deepest darkest moments. Surprisingly, they aren’t what I put in my stories. No, but what I’ve faced out there in the real world. I never dreamed I’d be sitting at my desktop and writing what I’m about to write.

Now I feel the need to apologize to my family, my bestest friends, and whoever else takes offense to discovering the truth this way. But I can’t on any good conscience post these upcoming chapters without coming clean about my own past.

My husband and daughters are the only ones to know. My husband even when we were on again and off again back in high school and throughout the years until we got married was and will always be one of my best friends. It’s because of him and my beautiful girls I overcame these darkest moments. My husband pulled me out of the pit that almost drowned me. He saw the aftermath of it all and was there for the worst parts following.

You see before I married my husband that I’ve known since I was 15 years old… I was engaged to a man that cheated on me. Dude chased me down butt naked, begging for forgiveness when I caught him in bed with another woman. Guess that’s what happens when you do “surprise visits” while living eight hours apart. Shrugs. But I trucked on and kept on trucking until I met this “dark” and “mysterious”, “handsome” man. Guy gave me a dozen red roses on our very first date! Smooth talker too. Fuck, my parents and grandmother loved him! Perfect fucking gentleman. He even helped my mother do the dishes when he visited! This man had the sweetest smile and laugh. He was very loving… to the public eye that is.

That relationship ended with a restraining order, my grandmother having him arrested, and my husband (friend at the time) had to threaten to kill him if he ever came near my family or me again.

I was 19 years old when this “sweet, mysterious, handsome man” aka my boyfriend raped me. We were at a party, and everyone was drunk off their asses. For whatever reason, he had it in his head that he wanted to have a threesome. He already had the perfect candidate picked out and went as far as to show me who he had in mind and was pleading for me to give in. I thought he was joking at first… But once I realized he was dead serious. I got fucking PISSED. There were a few words back and forth, and he continued in his encouraging ways. He was saying whatever he could to try and convince me to let him sleep with me and this other woman.

I wish I could say it ended with me leaving and dumping him that very night…

But it didn’t…

No.

Not even close.

It ended with me catching him messing around with this other woman as he was trying to convince her too… (I found out he’d been cheating on me throughout the entire relationship. He even had a threesome with one of our neighbors in our bed). I was about to call my father to come and get me as I was a couple towns away from home. The phone was snatched out of my hold before my father even answered the phone (sorry dad)… My boyfriend wrapped his hand around my mouth and dragged me up the stairs, past whatever family and friends he had at this party as he was the host… He pulled me into one of the rooms, threw me on a bed, beat the shit out of me then raped me. I begged him to stop but he wouldn’t. I screamed for help, but help never came. The music got louder, and I could hear a few of his friends laughing in the room next door as they listened in. The entire time he went on about this other woman he wanted to be with and how he wanted to see us together, take turns, etc… I won’t go into detail but yeah… He said and did some pretty graphic things.

Once again. I wish I could say it ended there…

But it didn’t…

No.

Not even close.

That was just the first night.

It was from that night on my boyfriend realized he loved that sense of power and control. He liked seeing me cry and screaming for help. It turned him on! His friends and family went out their way to cover that shit up. They made excuses for him. I think the only ones to ever defend me was his younger brother and uncle. They tried talking to him, but he never listened and did whatever he wanted.

Now before you go with the whole… Why didn’t you leave him bullshit? Oh, for fuck’s sake I tried. MULTIPLE TIMES! And how dare you ask anyone in that situation that because I gauranfuckintee, they’ve tried! I was kidnapped and forced back and anytime I even brought up leaving or tried he’d beat me, threaten to kill my lil bro, or my grandmother even. He’d take the phone away or yank it out of the socket. Hell, at one time we didn’t even have a phone he made certain it got disconnected! Things got so ugly at one point I stabbed him with a potato peeler during supper because he attacked me for not cooking fast enough! The man was like Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde. He’d be the sweetest thing one moment. But behind closed doors, he was a fucking monster.

All I remember is living in constant fear… Everything I said and did seemed to be a trigger. Towards the end, he managed to push everyone away, and he did that through me. I made excuses as to why I couldn’t see my family or friends. I even made excuses as to why my bestest friend couldn’t come see me. I was covered in cuts or bruises constantly, and I was embarrassed. I didn’t want anyone to see me like that. It was bad enough I had to find a way to hide that shit at work. But even that didn’t always fly… I had a boss that knew something was up. He even pulled me into his office once and asked if I needed help. I look back on that and wish I would’ve said something then! He could’ve called the police and got me the help and escape I needed, but that fear and little bit of pride kicked in. I laughed and said I was fine.

Yeah, I was fine alright…

Three days later I was beaten so bad I miscarried. I popped a bunch of pills that same night in attempts to put it all to an end. I was done. I wanted to be done. At least I thought I did… After the pills, I called for my father over and over like a fucking child. I don’t even remember what I took, but it fucked me up pretty good. I remember being cold and scared. I sat in the corner of a room and rocked. I don’t remember much after that. I woke up in a hospital and was told that I was lucky to be alive. It was then I realized I had to do something. I was so fucking mad at myself. I was mad because I realized what that would’ve done to my family and friends. How dare I pull something so fucking stupid and foolish! We lost my cousin to heroin just a few years ago, and I try to off myself?! FUCK YOU! I’d go back and kick my own ass if I could.

Now, that being said. No, I don’t think people that commit suicide are stupid or weak. I can’t speak for everyone, but I can speak for myself. I was in a position where I thought it was the ONLY way out. I just wanted to be done. I wanted an out, an escape from all the pain. I was tired of living in constant fear, torment, and humiliation. I thought it the only option. That is until I got so pissed with myself I started making plans. Those plans involved going to visit his parents for Christmas. We wouldn’t be back until sometime after the New Year. You see it had been a while since he’d visited his parents and I knew he’d want to stay a few extra days; days in which I would have to return home and be at work. He wasn’t working at the time. Hell, he hadn’t worked in almost a year. I was the only source of income at the time. So saving up every penny I could wasn’t easy, but I found a way. I had to lie and tell him that’s all I made on my paycheck etc. Things of that nature… Well, that visit itself was literal hell as his mother told me I had fucking demons in me and needed an exorcism — not even a joke. That woman was whack, and it was then I learned where the crazy came from.

Long story short… I was given three days. Three, to pack my shit and get out of that town, out of that apartment, before he got back home. Life has a funny way about things because ironically that same week my husband (who was just a friend at the time) heard I was back in town and was at my grandmother’s waiting for me — the moment I saw him sitting on her couch; I broke the fuck down and told him everything. I told him every single thing that happened. We left town THAT NIGHT, and he helped me pack it all up. He got me moved into my grandmother’s house, and things were a little better…

Until the boyfriend came home and realized I wasn’t there.

He called me at my grandmother’s. I told him I left him and oh hell… He called me every name in the book and said he was going to kill me, my brother, and my grandmother. My husband took the phone away from me, and they had a few words back and forth in exchange. He showed up once when I was gone, and my grandmother had him arrested for trying to break in. This man stalked me, my husband, and my grandmother for a little over a year. He ended up in jail over some sort of drug charge. Later on… he tried to claim that our first born after my husband and I were married was his!!!! That’s how insane this man was. It took a total of two to three years before he stopped appearing and calling.

So that’s my story…

It’s only fair. I have readers that send me theirs all the time. Stories of cancer, rape, abuse, and things of that nature. Stories of how my stories help them overcome theirs. But those are just my characters and how they pulled through.

It was time I told mine, and there it is.

I’m married now to one of my best friends and high school sweetheart. I’ve got two beautiful daughters and working towards a writing career. I pushed forth and so can you. Don’t give in. Don’t give up. Keep fighting because no matter how much you tell yourself you’re not worth it. You are. I was and still am. I deserve to be happy, so do you.

Find your inner peace, your joy, your happiness and cling to that.

There will be a follow up to the upcoming chapters. This will have whatever disclaimers I need etc. These chapters will involve actual celebrities, and I don’t wish to be sued. But maybe this will give you guys some insight and understanding as to who I am and why I write what I write.

To those that say my stories have helped them somehow. That’s amazing, and I love that they do that for you. I know I’ve said it a million times, but it’s true when I say writing is my therapy. Without my words and a way to express myself, I’d be insane. Well, more insane than I am already 😉

Thank you for your time, patience, understanding, and love,

Harley