Silence her spirit and sew shut her lips
with a flip of your pen you tighten your grip
choking and smiting her vigilant voice
raised in apathy and disdain at your actions of choice
your offense is offensive and merely a ploy
the shift the direction with misdirection of joy
I watched you laugh today as you broke a child's spirit and filled his world with despair
how cruelly you abused him without even a care
your smug demeanor
your rancid soul
he stood there broken in the wake of your control
you made yourself a monster to him
it cannot be unseen
but instead of apologizing, you choose to demonize me.
Tuesday, May 29, 2018
la vèritè
When does it end?
I mean for real..
It's like the world is continually handing you your ass and you can't catch a break. I don't know what is wrong with me sometimes.
I feel like my life is horrible, that is, until I start peeling it out to someone else and they are all like the solution is so simple and then I feel removed from myself, like I am now outside of myself listening to myself talk and thinking to myself will this bitch ever stop making excuses and whining?
I feel like I know what I want but does the disparity of thinking that it simply doesn't exist make me placid and contemptuous?
floating
from one mistake to another and wishing there was some magic recipe to get to a good streak, where everything seems to click but what if the recipe was to just stay put all along and iron the wrinkles out of the mother fucker that is driving you bat shit crazy because he can't seem to dig his head out of his ass or what if you stay put only to find that staying was not only not the thing that you were supposed to do but in fact the thing that sealed your ending?
ugh
I guess the only thing that I am sure that I know is that I don't know... and worse yet, at the end of the day I am just too mentally exhausted to do anything about it and I guess I just feel like what is the point of making a huge change if I don't know for certain that it is the right thing to do - even though I seem fairly certain that remaining is quite possibly, m ost likely not the right thing.
indifference
and resentment
in abundance. so much so that it has broken inside of me the place that used to fill with warmth and love so easily
now,
more so a cold and barren vacuous space
nothing helps.
it all hurts and every day I cry.
what a torture.
la vèritè ; the truth
is that I am unhappy, but in all fairness I don't know if I could ever be.
I mean if suddenly the winds changed and the skies parted and all was right in the world would I even believe it? would I even be able to accept it? Or would I ruin it.
soil it.
stain it, until it was just as fucked up and barren as me inside.
does anyone really have the grit to heal - let alone the ability
and what if in all seriousness that is what is happening now and I am fucking it right in it's proverbial ass with all my brokenness?
not knowing is a torture
but isn't knowing too?
I mean for real..
It's like the world is continually handing you your ass and you can't catch a break. I don't know what is wrong with me sometimes.
I feel like my life is horrible, that is, until I start peeling it out to someone else and they are all like the solution is so simple and then I feel removed from myself, like I am now outside of myself listening to myself talk and thinking to myself will this bitch ever stop making excuses and whining?
I feel like I know what I want but does the disparity of thinking that it simply doesn't exist make me placid and contemptuous?
floating
from one mistake to another and wishing there was some magic recipe to get to a good streak, where everything seems to click but what if the recipe was to just stay put all along and iron the wrinkles out of the mother fucker that is driving you bat shit crazy because he can't seem to dig his head out of his ass or what if you stay put only to find that staying was not only not the thing that you were supposed to do but in fact the thing that sealed your ending?
ugh
I guess the only thing that I am sure that I know is that I don't know... and worse yet, at the end of the day I am just too mentally exhausted to do anything about it and I guess I just feel like what is the point of making a huge change if I don't know for certain that it is the right thing to do - even though I seem fairly certain that remaining is quite possibly, m ost likely not the right thing.
indifference
and resentment
in abundance. so much so that it has broken inside of me the place that used to fill with warmth and love so easily
now,
more so a cold and barren vacuous space
nothing helps.
it all hurts and every day I cry.
what a torture.
la vèritè ; the truth
is that I am unhappy, but in all fairness I don't know if I could ever be.
I mean if suddenly the winds changed and the skies parted and all was right in the world would I even believe it? would I even be able to accept it? Or would I ruin it.
soil it.
stain it, until it was just as fucked up and barren as me inside.
does anyone really have the grit to heal - let alone the ability
and what if in all seriousness that is what is happening now and I am fucking it right in it's proverbial ass with all my brokenness?
not knowing is a torture
but isn't knowing too?
Sunday, May 6, 2018
When it rains
I spent last night in the hospital.
It was a normal day like any other, but I think the stress has finally caught up with me. I have been running on fumes for weeks with a mounting pile of stress and things to manage and I was outside playing with my children and watering my plants and I blacked out. I ended up scraping my knee and arm up pretty good and hitting my head, which meant that I would be visiting the hospital.
I hate going to the hospital.
It seemed not busy when I arrived but within minutes the waiting room was filled to the brim and before I know it I had waiting three hours to be seen. After a CAT scan and some X-rays I am no more informed than when I arrived about why I could have passed out. The loaded me up with morphine and cleaned my wounds and sent me home. I slept until noon the next day without waking even once... but hell it was 3 am before I got home.
The ER doctor made some mention that my family doctor may want to do some sort of heart monitor that I wear for a couple of weeks. I hope it's nothing serious... I can't help but worry, considering my mother and grandmother both died from heart complications and my grandmother and grandfather on my fathers side one heart problems and the other stroke. The proverbial deck is stacked against me, it would seem.
My friend lost her Grandmother this week and is in the final trimester of her pregnancy... and I spent most of the evening giving good advice to an old friend's girlfriend. I may have missed my calling as a life coach.
I can rest easy tonight knowing that I have put out more good than I have taken from the world today.
I can tell my youngest was worried as he went to bed and feeling concerned about being separated from me. But the morning will bring a new week and we will need to get back to the grind and work through his school work so that he can finish at the same time as everyone else and enjoy his summer break! Gosh I can't believe it is almost summer break and that my oldest boy will officially be a high schooler next school year. I sit here and think to myself "where has the time gone" and remember where I was in 9th grade, and wonder if I am truly ready for him to be there.
It was a normal day like any other, but I think the stress has finally caught up with me. I have been running on fumes for weeks with a mounting pile of stress and things to manage and I was outside playing with my children and watering my plants and I blacked out. I ended up scraping my knee and arm up pretty good and hitting my head, which meant that I would be visiting the hospital.
I hate going to the hospital.
It seemed not busy when I arrived but within minutes the waiting room was filled to the brim and before I know it I had waiting three hours to be seen. After a CAT scan and some X-rays I am no more informed than when I arrived about why I could have passed out. The loaded me up with morphine and cleaned my wounds and sent me home. I slept until noon the next day without waking even once... but hell it was 3 am before I got home.
The ER doctor made some mention that my family doctor may want to do some sort of heart monitor that I wear for a couple of weeks. I hope it's nothing serious... I can't help but worry, considering my mother and grandmother both died from heart complications and my grandmother and grandfather on my fathers side one heart problems and the other stroke. The proverbial deck is stacked against me, it would seem.
My friend lost her Grandmother this week and is in the final trimester of her pregnancy... and I spent most of the evening giving good advice to an old friend's girlfriend. I may have missed my calling as a life coach.
I can rest easy tonight knowing that I have put out more good than I have taken from the world today.
I can tell my youngest was worried as he went to bed and feeling concerned about being separated from me. But the morning will bring a new week and we will need to get back to the grind and work through his school work so that he can finish at the same time as everyone else and enjoy his summer break! Gosh I can't believe it is almost summer break and that my oldest boy will officially be a high schooler next school year. I sit here and think to myself "where has the time gone" and remember where I was in 9th grade, and wonder if I am truly ready for him to be there.
Thursday, February 15, 2018
Where are we going?
When did people stop taking pride in themselves? When did we get so lost that the minimal effort is all anyone is willing to put forth? Does no one seriously take pride in doing their best at their job or striving to succeed any more?
I've always been one to take notice in the world around me. My mother used to say "you got to look beyond the end of your nose", my grandmother used to say " there's more than just your own back yard", the message is all the same. It's a big world out there and even if you choose to ignore it, it's still there so look at the big picture. I think that we have gotten so self consumed that we only see ourselves now. What's worse, we are raising a generation that is so short sighted, entitled and afraid of criticism that they hide away from the world. Instead of being out in the world and enjoying the differences of people they are busy sorting each other and demanding sameness.
Parenting is so lax, I can hardly believe some of the things that my sons friends are getting away with. No one home to enforce the rules. No one looking over their shoulder or guiding them to the right path and furthermore.. no one telling them that they HAVE to do anything.
The world is moving so fast on a crash course of devastation and no one can be bothered to look away from their screen long enough to see a solution. There is a problem with not taking any responsibility that is breeding an epidemic. Over sensitive, easily offended sheep leading more sheep and they are misinformed. It's okay to be different, but you can't demand that everyone accept that. Yes you have a right to not be mistreated, but saying that I don't understand or asking questions is not abuse or a violation of your rights. You've got to expect some weird looks or remarks when it's something new and different... and news flash people can act very ignorant, but one asshole doesn't speak for all of humanity.
It surprises me that a generation so consumed with labeling everything and tossing it into a category will stand on their proverbial soapbox to preach gender anonymity. Then, a lot of things surprise me.
Suicide is on the rise. Mass shootings in schools and public events are on the rise. Terrorism is permeating our culture and leaching into our schools. The weak are getting shepherded by a dangerous lot and swallowed up with iniquity and despair. Like insolent children they are begging for you to set a limitation and demand better of them and if you won't they just keep going until there is nothing left to destroy.
My eldest son complains all the time that I don't allow him to do things that other parents allow. He complains that he has guidelines and rules. That I have expectations and that I make demands. It's a hard road for me to walk because I want his love and praise... but even more than that I want him alive and to have a chance to make it if anything ever happened to me. I go to great lengths to communicate with his teachers and find it sad that I'm not even at the school and most times I can tell them more about what happened in their classroom then they can. There is no reason that a teacher should be leaving a room full of 30 teenagers to their own devices. It's my belief that the reason that the schools think there isn't a bullying problem is because they aren't looking beyond the end of their noses. This speaks back to people doing the bare minimum in their jobs.
Most schools aren't secure. Most schools don't monitor what kids are bringing into the schools. Drugs are infesting our schools and children are arming themselves with weapons and vengeance. They are hurt and they want to throw a fit like they see the generation before them all over television and internet... and people are dying. Children are dying.
There is simply no accountability. No enforcement of the rules. No standard that you can't slip beneath.
You have to start with yourself and with your children and stop being afraid to demand more from your peers and coworkers, from your community and blossom out from there. I'm not talking about your opinion of how things should be, but the hard cold factual rules and morality that once stood for something in our communities.
I've always been one to take notice in the world around me. My mother used to say "you got to look beyond the end of your nose", my grandmother used to say " there's more than just your own back yard", the message is all the same. It's a big world out there and even if you choose to ignore it, it's still there so look at the big picture. I think that we have gotten so self consumed that we only see ourselves now. What's worse, we are raising a generation that is so short sighted, entitled and afraid of criticism that they hide away from the world. Instead of being out in the world and enjoying the differences of people they are busy sorting each other and demanding sameness.
Parenting is so lax, I can hardly believe some of the things that my sons friends are getting away with. No one home to enforce the rules. No one looking over their shoulder or guiding them to the right path and furthermore.. no one telling them that they HAVE to do anything.
The world is moving so fast on a crash course of devastation and no one can be bothered to look away from their screen long enough to see a solution. There is a problem with not taking any responsibility that is breeding an epidemic. Over sensitive, easily offended sheep leading more sheep and they are misinformed. It's okay to be different, but you can't demand that everyone accept that. Yes you have a right to not be mistreated, but saying that I don't understand or asking questions is not abuse or a violation of your rights. You've got to expect some weird looks or remarks when it's something new and different... and news flash people can act very ignorant, but one asshole doesn't speak for all of humanity.
It surprises me that a generation so consumed with labeling everything and tossing it into a category will stand on their proverbial soapbox to preach gender anonymity. Then, a lot of things surprise me.
Suicide is on the rise. Mass shootings in schools and public events are on the rise. Terrorism is permeating our culture and leaching into our schools. The weak are getting shepherded by a dangerous lot and swallowed up with iniquity and despair. Like insolent children they are begging for you to set a limitation and demand better of them and if you won't they just keep going until there is nothing left to destroy.
My eldest son complains all the time that I don't allow him to do things that other parents allow. He complains that he has guidelines and rules. That I have expectations and that I make demands. It's a hard road for me to walk because I want his love and praise... but even more than that I want him alive and to have a chance to make it if anything ever happened to me. I go to great lengths to communicate with his teachers and find it sad that I'm not even at the school and most times I can tell them more about what happened in their classroom then they can. There is no reason that a teacher should be leaving a room full of 30 teenagers to their own devices. It's my belief that the reason that the schools think there isn't a bullying problem is because they aren't looking beyond the end of their noses. This speaks back to people doing the bare minimum in their jobs.
Most schools aren't secure. Most schools don't monitor what kids are bringing into the schools. Drugs are infesting our schools and children are arming themselves with weapons and vengeance. They are hurt and they want to throw a fit like they see the generation before them all over television and internet... and people are dying. Children are dying.
There is simply no accountability. No enforcement of the rules. No standard that you can't slip beneath.
You have to start with yourself and with your children and stop being afraid to demand more from your peers and coworkers, from your community and blossom out from there. I'm not talking about your opinion of how things should be, but the hard cold factual rules and morality that once stood for something in our communities.
Tuesday, February 13, 2018
2/13/2018
I think in order to feel successful every day, there needs to be a conscious effort to move more forward than you do back.
I can't be the only soul that constantly works to improve myself and my surroundings. I think that some times it seems fruitless or I just don't have the ability to make the changes that I want at the particular time; but eventually it all ends up how I want it.
I stood in my kitchen this evening and felt that satisfaction when I reached for something it was there. Exactly where I put it. Exactly where I needed it and it felt good to go through the motions of my evening without all the anxiety and stress. I can be a bit neurotic. Don't look at me like that is a bad thing! I get shit done!..... efficiently!
I feel like I have been in a whirl wind the past couple of weeks. The year is flying by already and I have been so busy that I can barely think straight some days. It doesn't leave me a lot of time to deal with other people's bullshit or maintain my friendships and I find myself thinking that I need to make a better effort to reach out to people and then I instantly think "fuck them!" I mean if they can't reach out to me why the hell should I always have to be the one licking everyone's royal asshole?!
People just don't treat others right anymore. Everyone is so self serving and rude and careless with the hearts of others that I can't help but be disgusted and want to be away from it.
This woman snatched my money from my hand the other day when I was buying my son a tea and it was all I could do not to blurt out that I wasn't the reason that she was making minimum wage at a shitty fast food spot. Instead I looked at my son and told him " this is why you HAVE to go to college"; he knew exactly what I was talking about.
Bad thing is... I don't really feel any disdain towards this woman and her poor life choices or hap hazard circumstances. I know nothing about her journey or where she is at - so later I feel bad, because I too have been victimized by other people's judgement for my hasty responses in the wake of a bad day. Not bad enough to go back and sympathize with her... but I spent entirely too long thinking about the circumstances that caused her to snatch my money... and hell... maybe she is just a cunt who snatches things! *sigh
I'm so busy during the day that I really don't mind being alone. I can move at my own pace and no one is bitching about me belting out my amazon playlist at the top of my lungs as I dance from room to room cleaning. It's when it gets to be this time of night that I really feel the pinch. I sit here like I am waiting for someone to walk through the door until I snap out of it.
The amount of stress in my life has been recently overwhelming - so I have been doing a bunch of deep cleaning and reorganizing. (Don't judge me) It's weird how everything being tidy and lemon scented can be sedating. I think it makes me miss my mom less. I've really been feeling her in the back of my mind lately. I wish she could just tell me what she needs to- I'd surely love to hear it. Oh what I wouldn't give to talk with her. I don't think it's ever really going to sit with me that she is gone.
Monday, February 12, 2018
Losing their father
It is truly defeating to see the spirit of a child break. Hope is abundant in them and they are always willing to look forward with it filling their hearts. I could always appreciate the brutal honesty and wonderment of a child. To say that I have enjoyed the journey of raising my boys would be an understatement. I love kids. They are amazing.
I am constantly working on myself and taking an inventory of all our happenings, in hopes that I can fine tune and better the version of Mom that I am giving them. I want to be the person that opens doors for them and makes opportunities. I want to guide rather than control and empower them to be the best versions of themselves every day. All the goodness in my life is wrapped up in the gleam of their eyes and I am the luckiest woman in the world when I think of it like that.
Sure there are ups and down. Beating yourself up, I think just seems to come with the territory. I obsess if I am doing enough or making the right decisions for their future. I plan, skimp, save and sacrifice my sleep and sanity. I cheer when I'm sick, when I'm tired and even when they are driving me crazy. I smile and make pancakes, because somebody has got to do it! Honestly, I wouldn't have it be anyone but me. I love them an immeasurable amount.
That's all normal right? What am I getting at you ask?
I know that I am not the only person that feels like this about their child and I know that it is the right way to feel. I am so lost to how people can NOT feel this for their children. How they can place themselves above them and hurt them without regard. Watching that light leave your child's eyes is so criminal... but then I guess you didn't have to see it did you?
I wished sometimes that I was never with their father. I mean what in the hell was I thinking? Surely it must have been one of those moments where there is a higher purpose at play. I had to suffer him to have them - it's how I know that they are destined for greatness.
He was 4 years my junior, but I wouldn't learn that until later. He was friends with my cousin, whom at the time I was really close with. He was shiftless and lazy, but I worked like crazy and kept odd hours and he was around. I could have walked away from him a million times; but I was in a dark place and didn't really care much about a lot of things. We were already separated when I found out that I was pregnant with my oldest son. I didn't even want to tell him. I kicked myself a million times over for having done that; but if I hadn't - I wouldn't have my youngest son.
The kids were very small when I finally ended things for good. I was buried beneath the mountain of debt spawned from his addictions and ready to cut my losses. I think he was pissed that I didn't just out right fail. That I didn't need him and no matter how bad things were that I was a survivor and would never come crawling back to him. He's tried many times since then to find a way into my life and in the midst of rejection his offers of agenda based kindness turn into something for him to turn the tables and throw in my face. Isn't funny how people remember things to suit them sometimes? He definitely has a selective memory.
I have tried over the last 15 years to make reasonable opportunities for him with the children. I have hosted numerous events and allowed consistent invasions of my privacy and resources in an attempt to foster a positive parent relationship with him and the children. He eats my food, invites his family and manipulates every avenue that he can. He has stolen from my home, ran my bills up and demanded rewards for spending time with his children. Nothing is ever good enough and if I protest I am subject to his verbal abuse and ridicule.
He has taken recently to calling regularly on Sundays ( only since Christmas). These calls were supposed to be before 6pm and he often waits until 8 or 9pm to finally call. I think it's because he wants to make me look like the villain and the best way to do that is to call late so that I refuse the call and then he can play the victim and say that I am denying him his children.
Tuesday my oldest son turned 14. It was a big day for him and he had a lot of high hopes. I had been saving for months just to buy him the shoes that he wanted. He opted to stay home from school and we went to lunch together and out to buy the shoes that he wanted. He had thought that he would hear from his father seeing as his younger brother had reminded him on the Sunday prior that his brothers birthday was on Tuesday. It was nearly 9pm and the children were headed to bed when the phone rang. I showed it to my son and he said no. He was on his way to bed and felt very upset that he waited all day to call. His father protested and blamed me for his lack of preparedness, so when I let him know the next day was a snow day - my sons hopes were raised again. No call. More excuses. In fact the whole week passed and there was no call... until Sunday evening...late... and he spent almost 40 minutes talking to my youngest son and although his brothers birthday was mentioned several times he ended the call without so much as a happy birthday.
We called back.
Like a petty insolent child he blamed everyone but himself and literally told my son that it was his own fault that he didn't celebrate his birthday. Can you imagine? It must be terrible holding all that contempt for everyone else to simply shift blame from yourself. He did a bunch of screaming and name calling... and just like that he sealed his own fate. He lost them. He lost his ability to be anything to them. Love for a child should not have conditions. It should not cause pain. There has been 14 years of suffering... it's bittersweet.
I am constantly working on myself and taking an inventory of all our happenings, in hopes that I can fine tune and better the version of Mom that I am giving them. I want to be the person that opens doors for them and makes opportunities. I want to guide rather than control and empower them to be the best versions of themselves every day. All the goodness in my life is wrapped up in the gleam of their eyes and I am the luckiest woman in the world when I think of it like that.
Sure there are ups and down. Beating yourself up, I think just seems to come with the territory. I obsess if I am doing enough or making the right decisions for their future. I plan, skimp, save and sacrifice my sleep and sanity. I cheer when I'm sick, when I'm tired and even when they are driving me crazy. I smile and make pancakes, because somebody has got to do it! Honestly, I wouldn't have it be anyone but me. I love them an immeasurable amount.
That's all normal right? What am I getting at you ask?
I know that I am not the only person that feels like this about their child and I know that it is the right way to feel. I am so lost to how people can NOT feel this for their children. How they can place themselves above them and hurt them without regard. Watching that light leave your child's eyes is so criminal... but then I guess you didn't have to see it did you?
I wished sometimes that I was never with their father. I mean what in the hell was I thinking? Surely it must have been one of those moments where there is a higher purpose at play. I had to suffer him to have them - it's how I know that they are destined for greatness.
He was 4 years my junior, but I wouldn't learn that until later. He was friends with my cousin, whom at the time I was really close with. He was shiftless and lazy, but I worked like crazy and kept odd hours and he was around. I could have walked away from him a million times; but I was in a dark place and didn't really care much about a lot of things. We were already separated when I found out that I was pregnant with my oldest son. I didn't even want to tell him. I kicked myself a million times over for having done that; but if I hadn't - I wouldn't have my youngest son.
The kids were very small when I finally ended things for good. I was buried beneath the mountain of debt spawned from his addictions and ready to cut my losses. I think he was pissed that I didn't just out right fail. That I didn't need him and no matter how bad things were that I was a survivor and would never come crawling back to him. He's tried many times since then to find a way into my life and in the midst of rejection his offers of agenda based kindness turn into something for him to turn the tables and throw in my face. Isn't funny how people remember things to suit them sometimes? He definitely has a selective memory.
I have tried over the last 15 years to make reasonable opportunities for him with the children. I have hosted numerous events and allowed consistent invasions of my privacy and resources in an attempt to foster a positive parent relationship with him and the children. He eats my food, invites his family and manipulates every avenue that he can. He has stolen from my home, ran my bills up and demanded rewards for spending time with his children. Nothing is ever good enough and if I protest I am subject to his verbal abuse and ridicule.
He has taken recently to calling regularly on Sundays ( only since Christmas). These calls were supposed to be before 6pm and he often waits until 8 or 9pm to finally call. I think it's because he wants to make me look like the villain and the best way to do that is to call late so that I refuse the call and then he can play the victim and say that I am denying him his children.
Tuesday my oldest son turned 14. It was a big day for him and he had a lot of high hopes. I had been saving for months just to buy him the shoes that he wanted. He opted to stay home from school and we went to lunch together and out to buy the shoes that he wanted. He had thought that he would hear from his father seeing as his younger brother had reminded him on the Sunday prior that his brothers birthday was on Tuesday. It was nearly 9pm and the children were headed to bed when the phone rang. I showed it to my son and he said no. He was on his way to bed and felt very upset that he waited all day to call. His father protested and blamed me for his lack of preparedness, so when I let him know the next day was a snow day - my sons hopes were raised again. No call. More excuses. In fact the whole week passed and there was no call... until Sunday evening...late... and he spent almost 40 minutes talking to my youngest son and although his brothers birthday was mentioned several times he ended the call without so much as a happy birthday.
We called back.
Like a petty insolent child he blamed everyone but himself and literally told my son that it was his own fault that he didn't celebrate his birthday. Can you imagine? It must be terrible holding all that contempt for everyone else to simply shift blame from yourself. He did a bunch of screaming and name calling... and just like that he sealed his own fate. He lost them. He lost his ability to be anything to them. Love for a child should not have conditions. It should not cause pain. There has been 14 years of suffering... it's bittersweet.
Thursday, February 8, 2018
2/8/18 Wrestling banquet
It's hard to believe it's been a year since I was at this banquet. For two years my son has had the same two wrestling coaches and even this year they are his teachers for classes as well. It would be an understatement to stay that he is attached to these two men. They have been like fathers or big brothers to him and my heart broke to see him cry at the thought of not seeing them every day after this year is concluded. I am hoping that his coaches next year are of the same caliber and give him even more reason to build positive, trusting male bonded relationships... despite the lack of fortitude in that department from his absent father.
It was a cold and blustery evening - but it warmed my heart to see the team get their awards and reap their praise for their efforts this season. To see the beam of happiness across my sons face as he sits with his friends and I wonder where the time has gone. Took a wonderful snapshot of him with his coaches at the conclusion of the event and I do believe it was the first wholly genuine smile for a photograph I have seen come from my son in the longest time. I think I will get it printed out and frame it for him.
It was a good day.
I don't get many of those... so I'm going to cherish it!
Wednesday, February 7, 2018
2/7/18
There is something oddly satisfying about having the kitchen completely clean before I go to bed. If it were up to me it would be the entire house; but it just hasn't been that type of day... hell it hasn't been that type of week.
I've felt a little pulled apart heading through this week with a hefty agenda that requires marksmen execution - but it's over halfway through and I am plucking right along.
Any other week I would have welcomed a distraction; begged for some dramatics to bust off the monotony... but it of course chose to hit me like a tidal wave THIS week instead.
I've always prided myself of those weird string of events happening that no one would believe unless they were right there and witnessed it themselves ... but even after years of these instances, I am still quite uncertain as to why they happen.
An ex-boyfriend popped up this week out of the blue and messaged me on social media. He produced the familiar repertoire that I have had dealt to me many times before by others that I have cast from my life. Long story short, he found himself among iniquity... a low point in life that caused him to reflect and he felt regret and somehow prized me above the others. Professing apologies that absolved me of any prior stain he had claimed to my character and thinking himself to be nonchalantly tip toeing his way back into my graces. (sigh)
On one hand it's wonderful to have the vindication; but I've never really been the one to drift backwards. I listen to his story and I feel bad. There's a tired look about him now... older... worn... defeated... tired and I try to search beneath it for the him that I knew... it's not hard to find the things that I didn't like about him looming beneath the surface.... fighting to show their face. Still I can't want bad for him. I extend my forgiveness, because it's the right thing to do and I am all about having peace... but Part of me worries that it will end up being a thing that brings me grief if I'm not careful.
My oldest son turned 14 this week and for the first time that I can recall I let him stay home from school on his birthday. It was nice to spend the day with him and see him relax a bit and be so carefree. We joked and laughed and i got to see his smile a lot. We had a nice lunch together at Bravo and I took him to buy the sneakers that he's been wanting. (Labron 15's in Cavs colors). We closed his birthday out tonight with a homemade lemon pudding cake with lemon buttercream frosting (his request) and some oreo ice cream. Tomorrow we will celebrate his triumphs for the wrestling season and I will sit her and wish he was small again - so we could do it all over. He will never really know the infinite love that I have for him.
More winter snow although I keep hoping for spring. I'm interested to see if the children have school tomorrow.
I've felt a little pulled apart heading through this week with a hefty agenda that requires marksmen execution - but it's over halfway through and I am plucking right along.
Any other week I would have welcomed a distraction; begged for some dramatics to bust off the monotony... but it of course chose to hit me like a tidal wave THIS week instead.
I've always prided myself of those weird string of events happening that no one would believe unless they were right there and witnessed it themselves ... but even after years of these instances, I am still quite uncertain as to why they happen.
An ex-boyfriend popped up this week out of the blue and messaged me on social media. He produced the familiar repertoire that I have had dealt to me many times before by others that I have cast from my life. Long story short, he found himself among iniquity... a low point in life that caused him to reflect and he felt regret and somehow prized me above the others. Professing apologies that absolved me of any prior stain he had claimed to my character and thinking himself to be nonchalantly tip toeing his way back into my graces. (sigh)
On one hand it's wonderful to have the vindication; but I've never really been the one to drift backwards. I listen to his story and I feel bad. There's a tired look about him now... older... worn... defeated... tired and I try to search beneath it for the him that I knew... it's not hard to find the things that I didn't like about him looming beneath the surface.... fighting to show their face. Still I can't want bad for him. I extend my forgiveness, because it's the right thing to do and I am all about having peace... but Part of me worries that it will end up being a thing that brings me grief if I'm not careful.
My oldest son turned 14 this week and for the first time that I can recall I let him stay home from school on his birthday. It was nice to spend the day with him and see him relax a bit and be so carefree. We joked and laughed and i got to see his smile a lot. We had a nice lunch together at Bravo and I took him to buy the sneakers that he's been wanting. (Labron 15's in Cavs colors). We closed his birthday out tonight with a homemade lemon pudding cake with lemon buttercream frosting (his request) and some oreo ice cream. Tomorrow we will celebrate his triumphs for the wrestling season and I will sit her and wish he was small again - so we could do it all over. He will never really know the infinite love that I have for him.
More winter snow although I keep hoping for spring. I'm interested to see if the children have school tomorrow.
Monday, January 29, 2018
3+ months ( 1/29/18 )
Am I the only one that feels like I am going through this thing alone?
It's been a little over 3 months and I am down 75# - that should feel like something I would think... but it doesn't. I don't feel much different than I did three months ago and sometimes it can be a little depressing. I still can't eat meat really - at least not more than a bite or two.... most days I don't feel like eating much at all; so I drink protein shakes and protein water and of course I eat my buffet of vitamins and supplements.
To cool thing is that I have got the kids both wearing their fitbits and tracking their food too and we are all being more healthy because of it. Of course they are only taking a flintstone chewable, but it's cute to see them geeking out on fitness.
It's weird to let go. To realize that it wasn't just weight that I was carrying around but pounds and pounds of feelings. I'm not an emotional eater; but I can confess that when life gets me down I am guilty of sulking and not being very active. I feel like I have missed out on so much. I mean I have been pretty good at this mom thing; but I can always see room for improvement and I hope when they look back they see that I always tried.
I have spent a lot of time, in the passed few months, evaluating my life and relationships and feeling honestly a bit disgusted with what I have settled for, accepted and allowed up and to this point. I am at no loss for people in my life that want to make me feel bad, use me or mistreat me. My Mother always said that I had a thing for broken-winged birds and the evidence is all around me.
It's weird how offended people get when you put your foot down and remove yourself from the discount rack. The same people that are comfortable beating you down to make themselves feel better or draw the attention away from the wrong that they have done to you are the same ones who can't seem to stand it when you toss the truth at them and demand fair treatment. Goodbye! I have no time for their shit in my life! What a freedom it is to let them go. I won't lie, it's been heart-wrenching... and there were many times that I thought that I would cave and reach back to them, but I had to realize that I made it this far without them - in spite of them... and hell if I can do that, I got this!
People always say you can't choose your family... and I get what they are saying... but I can choose to be without them and I can choose to make them go on without me. Same for the some of the time so-called friends that filled my life once with all their demands and needs but when I needed them they were ghost.
You would think my life empty. lonely. Sometimes that feels real to me and some days it hurts. So I've exchanged those words for carefree and peaceful. Not that I get much peace with two growing boys! I do so much with those little maniacs that I sometimes feel stretched a little thin. I feel like I can give them so much more without the devils always clicking at my heels to right their wrongs and live beneath their judgement. It feels good to be the mom that is involved... and I mean really involved, not just attending. It feels good to know not only what is going on with my children but to be a guiding force and a loved mother figure to many of their friends. I love my home being the safe place where they can be themselves and be loved and accepted for the real them that they never have to hide from me.
Almost a week to Jaylon's birthday, I can't believe that he is going to be 14 already, it seems like only yesterday I was taking him home from the hospital - it's no lie that time flies. I wish I could go back - there is so much that I would want to do differently. It's hard to see it when you are living in the moment - but looking back, thinking back... it's crystal clear. I wish so badly sometimes that I could dig inside of their minds and know how they thought everything went. I guess all I can do at the end of the day is hope they know how much I love them.
Gavin will be starting a new school soon. There was an incident at the school he was attending and they chose to restrain him ( I was beside myself and contacted an attorney). He'll never forget that. I'll never understand why people like to hurt him. The new school is sensory & autism friendly and he did a couple trial days and really enjoyed it. It's a shorter day, a shorter week and an education geared directly to him. he will stay there until he graduates if he wants and can even prepare for college and still pursue his dream of becoming a veterinarian!
Jaylon won second place in his weight class at Federal League tournaments this weekend and has another match tonight against Manchester or Hudson! Go Bears!
It's been a little over 3 months and I am down 75# - that should feel like something I would think... but it doesn't. I don't feel much different than I did three months ago and sometimes it can be a little depressing. I still can't eat meat really - at least not more than a bite or two.... most days I don't feel like eating much at all; so I drink protein shakes and protein water and of course I eat my buffet of vitamins and supplements.
To cool thing is that I have got the kids both wearing their fitbits and tracking their food too and we are all being more healthy because of it. Of course they are only taking a flintstone chewable, but it's cute to see them geeking out on fitness.
It's weird to let go. To realize that it wasn't just weight that I was carrying around but pounds and pounds of feelings. I'm not an emotional eater; but I can confess that when life gets me down I am guilty of sulking and not being very active. I feel like I have missed out on so much. I mean I have been pretty good at this mom thing; but I can always see room for improvement and I hope when they look back they see that I always tried.
I have spent a lot of time, in the passed few months, evaluating my life and relationships and feeling honestly a bit disgusted with what I have settled for, accepted and allowed up and to this point. I am at no loss for people in my life that want to make me feel bad, use me or mistreat me. My Mother always said that I had a thing for broken-winged birds and the evidence is all around me.
It's weird how offended people get when you put your foot down and remove yourself from the discount rack. The same people that are comfortable beating you down to make themselves feel better or draw the attention away from the wrong that they have done to you are the same ones who can't seem to stand it when you toss the truth at them and demand fair treatment. Goodbye! I have no time for their shit in my life! What a freedom it is to let them go. I won't lie, it's been heart-wrenching... and there were many times that I thought that I would cave and reach back to them, but I had to realize that I made it this far without them - in spite of them... and hell if I can do that, I got this!
People always say you can't choose your family... and I get what they are saying... but I can choose to be without them and I can choose to make them go on without me. Same for the some of the time so-called friends that filled my life once with all their demands and needs but when I needed them they were ghost.
You would think my life empty. lonely. Sometimes that feels real to me and some days it hurts. So I've exchanged those words for carefree and peaceful. Not that I get much peace with two growing boys! I do so much with those little maniacs that I sometimes feel stretched a little thin. I feel like I can give them so much more without the devils always clicking at my heels to right their wrongs and live beneath their judgement. It feels good to be the mom that is involved... and I mean really involved, not just attending. It feels good to know not only what is going on with my children but to be a guiding force and a loved mother figure to many of their friends. I love my home being the safe place where they can be themselves and be loved and accepted for the real them that they never have to hide from me.
Almost a week to Jaylon's birthday, I can't believe that he is going to be 14 already, it seems like only yesterday I was taking him home from the hospital - it's no lie that time flies. I wish I could go back - there is so much that I would want to do differently. It's hard to see it when you are living in the moment - but looking back, thinking back... it's crystal clear. I wish so badly sometimes that I could dig inside of their minds and know how they thought everything went. I guess all I can do at the end of the day is hope they know how much I love them.
Gavin will be starting a new school soon. There was an incident at the school he was attending and they chose to restrain him ( I was beside myself and contacted an attorney). He'll never forget that. I'll never understand why people like to hurt him. The new school is sensory & autism friendly and he did a couple trial days and really enjoyed it. It's a shorter day, a shorter week and an education geared directly to him. he will stay there until he graduates if he wants and can even prepare for college and still pursue his dream of becoming a veterinarian!
Jaylon won second place in his weight class at Federal League tournaments this weekend and has another match tonight against Manchester or Hudson! Go Bears!
Thursday, January 18, 2018
Teen Suicide, Tide pods & Parenting
We've got a lot of ground to cover. Buckle up!
I'm sure every parent has thought that they've had a harder go at it then their parents did raising them. At least that is what I tell myself, when I'm resisting the urge to bitch about my parenting woes. Perhaps it's true in some regard, as the world is constantly changing and evolving and you have to grow with it. Whether you want to or not.
I never thought I would be the one sitting here, coining phrases like " I long for a simpler time" or "when I was a kid"... blah blah blah, but here we are.
A neighboring school district has been battling a rash of teen suicides. They've had about 1 per month since school has started. People are so quick to point the finger and place blame. The community wants so badly to have someone or something to crucify for all this heartache. Ironically, I don't think that it is any one thing that is causing children to feel despair these days.
There has always been bullying and there will always be bullying... but let's face facts it was NEVER the way that it is now. If someone talks shit about you or you make a mistake you are risking only a few people knowing or even it being contained within your school and community.. you are facing judgement and ridicule globally. Worse yet, there is likely to be video evidence of it. How can you live that down?
Everyone has an opinion and our youth are constantly looking for validation. Are they good enough, smart enough, pretty enough, athletic enough, trendy enough... you get the idea. They spam polls and pictures throughout social media fishing for affirmations and are often times met with something quite the contrary. There is some real ugliness on the internet.
In an era of challenges and a yearn for followers and media attention we have some how spiraled into this phase of people pretending to/ eating Tide pods?
Are parents even in the equation? I mean I'm not trying to lay blame on parents, because let's face it if a teen wants to get away with something they will find a way. However, that being said, I think that parents as a whole have become pretty disconnected from their children. So busy working or trying to "have a life", so afraid to offend or trigger their children by telling them no or making restrictions... maybe this isn't you, but I'm certain that someone comes to mind almost immediately that fits the bill.
I constantly hear from my children how I'm unreasonable and how they need/want more "freedom" like their peers. They are independent and don't need chaperones or "babysitters". I have to laugh, because I'm not ready for grandchildren and I want them to out live me, so yes, I'm going to be in "their business". I don't judge them. They can be who they want to be... it's a little late to really stop them... but I can guide them.... they have come to accept it. It's a lot to keep up with and some days I feel like I am losing my mind. How do you stay ahead of an ever-evolving technology?
Every day is a nightmare and a blessing. I worry if I am doing enough and if any of it is actually sinking in - and they surprise me all of the time with their kindness and compassion. So maybe we are exactly where we are supposed to be all of the time and that's the only place we should be. There's just no way that I can stop shooting for the moon, even if I'm consistently lading only in the stars.
Lastly, my heart breaks for all of the parents losing children. No parent should ever have to bury their child. I hope peace find your hearts and our community heals soon.
I'm sure every parent has thought that they've had a harder go at it then their parents did raising them. At least that is what I tell myself, when I'm resisting the urge to bitch about my parenting woes. Perhaps it's true in some regard, as the world is constantly changing and evolving and you have to grow with it. Whether you want to or not.
I never thought I would be the one sitting here, coining phrases like " I long for a simpler time" or "when I was a kid"... blah blah blah, but here we are.
A neighboring school district has been battling a rash of teen suicides. They've had about 1 per month since school has started. People are so quick to point the finger and place blame. The community wants so badly to have someone or something to crucify for all this heartache. Ironically, I don't think that it is any one thing that is causing children to feel despair these days.
There has always been bullying and there will always be bullying... but let's face facts it was NEVER the way that it is now. If someone talks shit about you or you make a mistake you are risking only a few people knowing or even it being contained within your school and community.. you are facing judgement and ridicule globally. Worse yet, there is likely to be video evidence of it. How can you live that down?
Everyone has an opinion and our youth are constantly looking for validation. Are they good enough, smart enough, pretty enough, athletic enough, trendy enough... you get the idea. They spam polls and pictures throughout social media fishing for affirmations and are often times met with something quite the contrary. There is some real ugliness on the internet.
In an era of challenges and a yearn for followers and media attention we have some how spiraled into this phase of people pretending to/ eating Tide pods?
Are parents even in the equation? I mean I'm not trying to lay blame on parents, because let's face it if a teen wants to get away with something they will find a way. However, that being said, I think that parents as a whole have become pretty disconnected from their children. So busy working or trying to "have a life", so afraid to offend or trigger their children by telling them no or making restrictions... maybe this isn't you, but I'm certain that someone comes to mind almost immediately that fits the bill.
I constantly hear from my children how I'm unreasonable and how they need/want more "freedom" like their peers. They are independent and don't need chaperones or "babysitters". I have to laugh, because I'm not ready for grandchildren and I want them to out live me, so yes, I'm going to be in "their business". I don't judge them. They can be who they want to be... it's a little late to really stop them... but I can guide them.... they have come to accept it. It's a lot to keep up with and some days I feel like I am losing my mind. How do you stay ahead of an ever-evolving technology?
Every day is a nightmare and a blessing. I worry if I am doing enough and if any of it is actually sinking in - and they surprise me all of the time with their kindness and compassion. So maybe we are exactly where we are supposed to be all of the time and that's the only place we should be. There's just no way that I can stop shooting for the moon, even if I'm consistently lading only in the stars.
Lastly, my heart breaks for all of the parents losing children. No parent should ever have to bury their child. I hope peace find your hearts and our community heals soon.
Tuesday, November 28, 2017
Almost 2 months
The last month has been a struggle! December 4th will mark two months post op and MANY times over the past month I have regretted the surgery.
When I went to my one month check the surgeon had talked to me about my liver biopsy and said that my liver was really inflamed during surgery. It went on saying that there was no real damage to my liver that could not be repaired through diet and exercise and that I had basically had the surgery in time - it was heading in the wrong direction and it would have only been a matter of time before liver disease was imminent.
Through this whole process I have learned a lot about my body. I have learned a lot about food. I have learned a lot about the lies that manufacturers and restaurants tell consumers about food. It makes me sad that they don't educate us more as we are growing up in this respect. I've been so disgusted at how many "healthy" options are loaded with sugars, sugar alcohols and hidden ingredients that are toxic to our bodies. We are set to fail right out of the gate.
I've been sick a lot the last month or so. I was released to full foods at my one month check up and the discovery process has begun. I am trying foods and slowly trying to reintroduce them to my body. This is not a fun process. I thought I would be excited for this part, but I never considered that I would be spending so much time vomiting and feeling terrible. If my body doesn't like something, it expels it almost immediately. There is pressure, burping, pain... and ultimately it comes out.
I hear from a lot of people that this will go away and I will miss the alert system when my body doesn't want something... but I have little hope at this point. I forget to eat sometimes. It is a real struggle. I mean how many times you got to burn your hand before you know the stove is hot? Getting sick makes you want nothing. I get this nervous feeling in the pit of my tummy and a ton of anxiety just thinking about food.
Don't get me wrong, there are so many things that sound good to eat. A few times now I have wanted something with bacon in the recipe. It looks good, it smells good, it tastes good. I throw it up. I think in my head, maybe it's too greasy... now every time I even think about bacon I feel sick to my stomach. For the love of God... bacon!
I cooked a huge thanksgiving day meal for my family. I adjusted recipes to make them healthy and everything turned out really good. I ate 4 bites. 4 teeny tiny bites and I felt like I was going to die. I had yogurt a few hours later and cried.
I am not taking enough in.
I'm exhausted.
I can get in some where between 1500 and 3000 steps a day before I am destroyed. I tank out. Within moments I am fast asleep and my body is revolting.
Am I losing weight? sure! I've lost 50+ pounds to date and I am not even a full two months out. I'm scared to death I am going to lose my teeth and my hair. My skin is overly dry and no lotions really seem to work.
My iron was low at my last visit and I need to eat more leafy greens and red meat... I only have a month before I have to go back and I need to have that level up so I don't get yet another pill to add to my collection.
I am so stressed out all of the time and I have no patience for anything.
I am grateful that the pain in my side is gone and that I am able to sleep in my own bed. I just wish that I could fast forward a little bit and get on to where I eat things and I don't feel like the exorcist!
My cousin brought her baby over sick a few days ago - so on top of everything else I am dealing with a sinus infection and the antibiotics tear my stomach up. Yay! I hate people. They only think about themselves.
When I went to my one month check the surgeon had talked to me about my liver biopsy and said that my liver was really inflamed during surgery. It went on saying that there was no real damage to my liver that could not be repaired through diet and exercise and that I had basically had the surgery in time - it was heading in the wrong direction and it would have only been a matter of time before liver disease was imminent.
Through this whole process I have learned a lot about my body. I have learned a lot about food. I have learned a lot about the lies that manufacturers and restaurants tell consumers about food. It makes me sad that they don't educate us more as we are growing up in this respect. I've been so disgusted at how many "healthy" options are loaded with sugars, sugar alcohols and hidden ingredients that are toxic to our bodies. We are set to fail right out of the gate.
I've been sick a lot the last month or so. I was released to full foods at my one month check up and the discovery process has begun. I am trying foods and slowly trying to reintroduce them to my body. This is not a fun process. I thought I would be excited for this part, but I never considered that I would be spending so much time vomiting and feeling terrible. If my body doesn't like something, it expels it almost immediately. There is pressure, burping, pain... and ultimately it comes out.
I hear from a lot of people that this will go away and I will miss the alert system when my body doesn't want something... but I have little hope at this point. I forget to eat sometimes. It is a real struggle. I mean how many times you got to burn your hand before you know the stove is hot? Getting sick makes you want nothing. I get this nervous feeling in the pit of my tummy and a ton of anxiety just thinking about food.
Don't get me wrong, there are so many things that sound good to eat. A few times now I have wanted something with bacon in the recipe. It looks good, it smells good, it tastes good. I throw it up. I think in my head, maybe it's too greasy... now every time I even think about bacon I feel sick to my stomach. For the love of God... bacon!
I cooked a huge thanksgiving day meal for my family. I adjusted recipes to make them healthy and everything turned out really good. I ate 4 bites. 4 teeny tiny bites and I felt like I was going to die. I had yogurt a few hours later and cried.
I am not taking enough in.
I'm exhausted.
I can get in some where between 1500 and 3000 steps a day before I am destroyed. I tank out. Within moments I am fast asleep and my body is revolting.
Am I losing weight? sure! I've lost 50+ pounds to date and I am not even a full two months out. I'm scared to death I am going to lose my teeth and my hair. My skin is overly dry and no lotions really seem to work.
My iron was low at my last visit and I need to eat more leafy greens and red meat... I only have a month before I have to go back and I need to have that level up so I don't get yet another pill to add to my collection.
I am so stressed out all of the time and I have no patience for anything.
I am grateful that the pain in my side is gone and that I am able to sleep in my own bed. I just wish that I could fast forward a little bit and get on to where I eat things and I don't feel like the exorcist!
My cousin brought her baby over sick a few days ago - so on top of everything else I am dealing with a sinus infection and the antibiotics tear my stomach up. Yay! I hate people. They only think about themselves.
Monday, October 30, 2017
Moving Down
Every time I step on the scale the number is going down. To many this alone would be a victory but I want to FEEL different. I want to feel stronger and slimmer and beautiful. Doesn't everyone?
I keep reminding myself that nothing happens over night and it's just going to take time to get to where I want to be. Being fit is not enough, I need to dump dead weight everywhere in my life and I am letting it be known that I am doing just that. I have already seemingly parted ways with friendships that have been unhealthy for years. People who freely took from me and gave little or nothing in return but sorrow and despair. I thought it would be heart-breaking but it's actually quite liberating every time.
I've been spending a lot of time cataloging and trying out new recipes that are healthier and tasty for the whole family, I'm trying to make a point to share them on my Facebook page and in the weight loss group that I am in. With any luck I will be able to put together a small cookbook before the year is out.
The weather is growing colder and I feel like I live under an electric blanket! My children complain that the house is hot, but I pay the bills and I am cold! The pumpkins have been carved, the trick or treating has ended and it's crazy but I am already thinking about Christmas. I will have to do so much rearranging to make room for my huge tree or I will have to break down and purchase a slimmer one. I feel like I have outgrown my space and I am ready for some new digs.
My oldest son has his first serious girlfriend. I can hardly believe where the time has gone. They've had a couple chaperoned fights and their first misunderstanding; so... dramatic! I forgot what turmoil and angst there is with being a teenager. His 14 year old girlfriend actually told me that I don't know what a heard life is! I was beside myself. I simply hung up the phone - it wouldn't be right to ruin her innocence by telling her the horror story that has been my life. Just because I look like I have it altogether doesn't mean that there isn't a tsunami raging beneath.
I think it's starting to sink in that time is getting away from me. I look at my children and it doesn't seem real that they have grown so much so quickly. Wasn't it just yesterday that I was cradling them in my arms and feeling drunk off their rhythmic breathing?
The winter months fill me with gloom. I have to work hard to stay distracted from all the death and cold outside until the rebirth of spring happens!
I keep reminding myself that nothing happens over night and it's just going to take time to get to where I want to be. Being fit is not enough, I need to dump dead weight everywhere in my life and I am letting it be known that I am doing just that. I have already seemingly parted ways with friendships that have been unhealthy for years. People who freely took from me and gave little or nothing in return but sorrow and despair. I thought it would be heart-breaking but it's actually quite liberating every time.
I've been spending a lot of time cataloging and trying out new recipes that are healthier and tasty for the whole family, I'm trying to make a point to share them on my Facebook page and in the weight loss group that I am in. With any luck I will be able to put together a small cookbook before the year is out.
The weather is growing colder and I feel like I live under an electric blanket! My children complain that the house is hot, but I pay the bills and I am cold! The pumpkins have been carved, the trick or treating has ended and it's crazy but I am already thinking about Christmas. I will have to do so much rearranging to make room for my huge tree or I will have to break down and purchase a slimmer one. I feel like I have outgrown my space and I am ready for some new digs.
My oldest son has his first serious girlfriend. I can hardly believe where the time has gone. They've had a couple chaperoned fights and their first misunderstanding; so... dramatic! I forgot what turmoil and angst there is with being a teenager. His 14 year old girlfriend actually told me that I don't know what a heard life is! I was beside myself. I simply hung up the phone - it wouldn't be right to ruin her innocence by telling her the horror story that has been my life. Just because I look like I have it altogether doesn't mean that there isn't a tsunami raging beneath.
I think it's starting to sink in that time is getting away from me. I look at my children and it doesn't seem real that they have grown so much so quickly. Wasn't it just yesterday that I was cradling them in my arms and feeling drunk off their rhythmic breathing?
The winter months fill me with gloom. I have to work hard to stay distracted from all the death and cold outside until the rebirth of spring happens!
Wednesday, October 18, 2017
Getting off the clearance rack
Last we talked I was waiting for my surgery day to come. People tell you that the day will sneak up on you, but the days drug for me and seemed so long. I obsessed about the possibility of death and what outcome that would hold for my children. It's terrible how the mind works on you like that. I mean with every surgery there is a risk or possibility of death. I went to great lengths to survey the area hospitals and choose one with a low mortality rate - some might think that's funny as much as I proclaim "kill me now!" or "i wish I was dead" or some other totally extra statement of woe and despair.
The surgery went smooth and oddly I woke up from anesthesia thinking that I had been in a car wreck and being worried about my children. The majority of the recovery (so far) has gone smooth too. I do have pain, but not near as much as I anticipated. All in all it is a learning process and I seem to be right on track.
That being said...
I feel like I am losing everyone around me. Maybe when I had the surgery they removed my ability to put up with people's shit - not that I believe I had a high tolerance to begin with, but I really just cannot contain myself. It lends me to the idea that perhaps I should just stay away from people altogether. I don't think that will be a problem. Most of my so-called "friends" have been avoiding me like the plague since I had the surgery. I am beside myself with grief for them. I feel slighted and I'm tired of being the person who needs to just understand or accept what pittance you push forward. Why do I have to work so hard to cater to you in our friendship when you cannot begin to claim you do the same. Fuck you!
I've come to the conclusion that my friends list needs a revision. Effective immediately they are on notice and under review and believe you me - heads are rolling.
I never understood people saying that the surgery is your new birth date... but it's beginning to make sense. I think it's just impossible to make such radical changes in your life and not apply them all across the board. I've let people step on my neck my whole life. I've let people hold me beneath their thumb and guilt me into setting my own self asunder so that that they can be the star.
No More!
You can walk beside me, or you can get behind me- but I will not bow, follow or let you beat me down any more.
I really don't give a fuck if it means that everyone finds the exit out of my life. I'm tired of biting back my tears and hurt because you hold yourself above me and think yourself better than me. What kind of friend is that anyways?
I sat there last night thinking that I really wanted to call someone - to expel all the hurt I was feeling and have them validate it for me - but why do I need validation? I know that it is not wrong to expect people to treat you with care and kindness when you do the very same for them. I know it is not wrong to tell people openly and honestly how I feel in regards to our dealings together. Lastly, I know I deserve to be treated better. I am a good friend. I am a good person.
I have often told people in my life to not let people put them on the discount rack, because only they can determine their own worth. FORGIVE ME, for finally taking my own advice.
The surgery went smooth and oddly I woke up from anesthesia thinking that I had been in a car wreck and being worried about my children. The majority of the recovery (so far) has gone smooth too. I do have pain, but not near as much as I anticipated. All in all it is a learning process and I seem to be right on track.
That being said...
I feel like I am losing everyone around me. Maybe when I had the surgery they removed my ability to put up with people's shit - not that I believe I had a high tolerance to begin with, but I really just cannot contain myself. It lends me to the idea that perhaps I should just stay away from people altogether. I don't think that will be a problem. Most of my so-called "friends" have been avoiding me like the plague since I had the surgery. I am beside myself with grief for them. I feel slighted and I'm tired of being the person who needs to just understand or accept what pittance you push forward. Why do I have to work so hard to cater to you in our friendship when you cannot begin to claim you do the same. Fuck you!
I've come to the conclusion that my friends list needs a revision. Effective immediately they are on notice and under review and believe you me - heads are rolling.
I never understood people saying that the surgery is your new birth date... but it's beginning to make sense. I think it's just impossible to make such radical changes in your life and not apply them all across the board. I've let people step on my neck my whole life. I've let people hold me beneath their thumb and guilt me into setting my own self asunder so that that they can be the star.
No More!
You can walk beside me, or you can get behind me- but I will not bow, follow or let you beat me down any more.
I really don't give a fuck if it means that everyone finds the exit out of my life. I'm tired of biting back my tears and hurt because you hold yourself above me and think yourself better than me. What kind of friend is that anyways?
I sat there last night thinking that I really wanted to call someone - to expel all the hurt I was feeling and have them validate it for me - but why do I need validation? I know that it is not wrong to expect people to treat you with care and kindness when you do the very same for them. I know it is not wrong to tell people openly and honestly how I feel in regards to our dealings together. Lastly, I know I deserve to be treated better. I am a good friend. I am a good person.
I have often told people in my life to not let people put them on the discount rack, because only they can determine their own worth. FORGIVE ME, for finally taking my own advice.
Thursday, September 28, 2017
6 days and a wake up...
That's right... officially one week until my surgery. The Optifast diet is driving me bonkers... so many weird things happen to your body while one this diet. Worse yet it really messes with your mind. It's weird how I felt so confident about this diet going into it and with one swift kick it humbled me wholly.
I have my pre-surgery testing tomorrow and I know there will be a weight check and more lab work. I'm assuming that my labs from last week went okay because I haven't heard anything to the contrary.
I ate and ice cream cone today.
no that is not part of the diet.
I felt like a failure, but it didn't stop me from finishing it.
I kept rationalizing to myself that I might never even be able to eat dairy after the surgery. I made a lot of excuses. In all, the hard reality was that I was the fat girl behind Dairy Queen eating an ice cream cone and crying. How did I become this girl? The Optifast diet.
It breaks you.
No one truly prepares you for the way it breaks you.
People spit all this drivle about how they faithfully stuck to it and they added their little flavorings and they suffered through because they want the surgery so bad - and maybe they did - but I don't believe it. From where I stand it is highly improbable and I ration to myself that they just don't want to admit it.
I'll be the first.
I'm a fuck up. I make mistakes and I'm not perfect, but I am still here and I am still trying. No lie I took a dose of Magnesia and guzzled some water - and I am hoping to shit my brains out and make weight in the morning at testing. How did I get here?.... Optifast.
I've had opportunity to talk to others that went through other hospitals and were allowed other foods and such and only did clear liquids and a bowel prep the day before surgery. Me? I got three weeks of Optifast.
What's the messed up thing? The damn ice cream cone wasn't as good as I remembered.
Oh well, what's done is done. I came home and finished out my shake regime for the remainder of the night and ate my little two cups of lettuce. Yet, the feeling of defeat stays and it is coupled with worry. The surgical team is so focused on scaring you into doing what and a less intelligent person might not see through it - but after the first time you admit fucking up and they tell you "that's okay, we have it set up so that if you make mistakes you can still be successful"... UGH!!!!! give it to me straight! I hate when people like or manipulate.
I went to my preoperative testing this morning, alone. It's not that I am not capable of going alone; but who likes not feeling supported? This is a big thing and it doesn't seem to sit with people how huge this is. Eating has damaged my body. Obesity is the biggest form of self mutilation that everyone ignores and minimizes.
There was construction at the surgical center. I parked at the Emergency room parking lot because it was a closer option, and still I parked about a quarter mile away (it felt like I walked for a day). I complained in my head the whole time about all the people that are in my life and how their absence was affecting me now. Mumble mumble...they will want to come to my funeral though... mumble mumble... always wanting me to do something for them... (you get the point) Did I forget how to mention how extra I am sometimes?
I entered the surgical center and was greeted by a...get this...
Valet.
The blinding pain ripping through my lower back prevented me from responding to the following statement he uttered.
"You know, Valet parking is free for patients at the surgical center."
I couldn't even open my mouth because I knew it wasn't his fault but I would want to take it out on this man. I am sitting there wondering why no one would bother to tell people that prior to them walking in the door.
The appointment was fine, even though I waited over an hour to be seen. I had completed all of my labs and only needed to be weighed and go over all of my info. (I was down 4 pounds) This is the last time until the day of my surgery that I will be weighed.
I have my pre-surgery testing tomorrow and I know there will be a weight check and more lab work. I'm assuming that my labs from last week went okay because I haven't heard anything to the contrary.
I ate and ice cream cone today.
no that is not part of the diet.
I felt like a failure, but it didn't stop me from finishing it.
I kept rationalizing to myself that I might never even be able to eat dairy after the surgery. I made a lot of excuses. In all, the hard reality was that I was the fat girl behind Dairy Queen eating an ice cream cone and crying. How did I become this girl? The Optifast diet.
It breaks you.
No one truly prepares you for the way it breaks you.
People spit all this drivle about how they faithfully stuck to it and they added their little flavorings and they suffered through because they want the surgery so bad - and maybe they did - but I don't believe it. From where I stand it is highly improbable and I ration to myself that they just don't want to admit it.
I'll be the first.
I'm a fuck up. I make mistakes and I'm not perfect, but I am still here and I am still trying. No lie I took a dose of Magnesia and guzzled some water - and I am hoping to shit my brains out and make weight in the morning at testing. How did I get here?.... Optifast.
I've had opportunity to talk to others that went through other hospitals and were allowed other foods and such and only did clear liquids and a bowel prep the day before surgery. Me? I got three weeks of Optifast.
What's the messed up thing? The damn ice cream cone wasn't as good as I remembered.
Oh well, what's done is done. I came home and finished out my shake regime for the remainder of the night and ate my little two cups of lettuce. Yet, the feeling of defeat stays and it is coupled with worry. The surgical team is so focused on scaring you into doing what and a less intelligent person might not see through it - but after the first time you admit fucking up and they tell you "that's okay, we have it set up so that if you make mistakes you can still be successful"... UGH!!!!! give it to me straight! I hate when people like or manipulate.
I went to my preoperative testing this morning, alone. It's not that I am not capable of going alone; but who likes not feeling supported? This is a big thing and it doesn't seem to sit with people how huge this is. Eating has damaged my body. Obesity is the biggest form of self mutilation that everyone ignores and minimizes.
There was construction at the surgical center. I parked at the Emergency room parking lot because it was a closer option, and still I parked about a quarter mile away (it felt like I walked for a day). I complained in my head the whole time about all the people that are in my life and how their absence was affecting me now. Mumble mumble...they will want to come to my funeral though... mumble mumble... always wanting me to do something for them... (you get the point) Did I forget how to mention how extra I am sometimes?
I entered the surgical center and was greeted by a...get this...
Valet.
The blinding pain ripping through my lower back prevented me from responding to the following statement he uttered.
"You know, Valet parking is free for patients at the surgical center."
I couldn't even open my mouth because I knew it wasn't his fault but I would want to take it out on this man. I am sitting there wondering why no one would bother to tell people that prior to them walking in the door.
The appointment was fine, even though I waited over an hour to be seen. I had completed all of my labs and only needed to be weighed and go over all of my info. (I was down 4 pounds) This is the last time until the day of my surgery that I will be weighed.
Thursday, September 14, 2017
Life Has A Way of Getting You In The Weigh...
People eat. For one reason or another people eat. There's only one reason that you should; to fuel your body... but despite that, there is mass consumerism of food.
I was raised in a house where you cleaned your plate. I'm not blaming anyone, but I can count countless things that I have digested simply to prevent waste.
I remember years ago looking at obese women and thinking to myself how could they let themselves get that way. Maybe my life now is God's lesson in humility for those thoughts. It was a gradual thing, for me for the longest time. Five pounds more this year than last and so on. I don't think it really got out of hand until after I had my hysterectomy, and completely altered my body chemistry altogether. The surgery its self led to a lot of depression for me and I'm pretty sure I gained twenty pounds that year. I was just under two hundred pounds at the time and I thought I was fat then.
I'm not sure it was ever a clear thought to remove the scales and the mirrors from my home. I realized about a year ago, like an epiphany, that I haven't seen myself in a full length mirror or been weighed on a scale for years. It was the day after I had caught a glimpse of myself in a shop window and all I could do was cry. Hell I cried for nearly a week, just laying there feeling sorry for myself. My mind raced over my life searching for the last time that I could recall seeing myself and it had been a long time.
The biggest crime you can commit is beating yourself up or letting others define you. That being said you need to be realistic too. We have grown into this society where we lie to ourselves and others as not to offend. When I made the decision to enter a bariatric program (physician monitored diet and exercise & potential surgery), I heard a lot of comments that were negative... but I think the one that hurt the most is being told "you are beautiful the way you are". First, I never said I was ugly. Second, how can you think me eating my way to death's doorstep is beautiful? Just respect my decision and be supportive!
You really learn a lot about yourself when you join the bariatric program. It was so hard for me to go to that first appointment. I cried most of the way during the drive there. My heart was heavy when I walked through the door. Coming here was admitting to myself what I had become and it was hitting me like a ton of bricks. I'm sure it was written all over my face, I checked in and waited in the reception room. My eyes surveyed the people in the room and I was trying to find someone that I identified with. Shockingly, most of the people in the room seemed to be a fair bit older than me, I argued with myself that I wasn't as bad off as them and then I was called into the back.
Nothing could prepare me to walk in that room and see that huge cattle scale. I'm sure that's not what it is, but I also argue that you could easily fit a full size dairy cow upon it. She asked me to remove my shoes and then took my height and it yielded a result that I expected. I stepped upon the scale and it was digital, it settled on a number fast, it was instantly apparent to me that I had more than doubled the weight on my drivers license, (why do they let us get away with that? haha), I almost fainted. I instantly begin to cry and the nurse reassures me - yet it is no comfort at all. Next, they take a full length photo of me from the front and from the side. She began to ask if I would like to see the photo, but I think somehow she just knew that there was no way that I would look at it.
I was given a folder filled with information that we went over that day. A restrictive diet and exercise program, and a host of obligations for me to meet with specialists to rule out any other medical issues. It seemed overwhelming.... man it was overwhelming.
Over the next several months I met with the weight management doctor and did a host of other clearances. Cardiac, Pulmonary, Psychological, blood work, xrays, ultrasound of my gall bladder, sleep study. I remember thinking to myself that there was no way that all of this was necessary. THIS IS MAJOR SURGERY - hello.... they are cutting up your insides! I continued to meet with the weight management doctor up and to about a month ago... I have about 19 days until my actual surgery.
I have to do three weeks of liquid diet. 7 Optifast shakes, 64 oz of caffeine free, sugar free, calorie free drinks... every day for 21 days. I won't eat food again until probably December... and it will be so little that it probably won't matter much. No one tells you how hard it is going to weigh on you emotionally. I am truly humbled.
The first day of Optifast broke me mentally. I cried most of the day and was a royal crotch. I yelled at my family for filling the house with food smells and not being supportive. I made it through the first day and then two hours after I drake the last shake for the day, I did something that I have never done in my life.
I binge ate.
I cried the whole time and almost vomited... WTF is wrong with me?!
I ended up crying and talking to one of my best friends and they reminded me how hard I worked up an to now and encouraged me to not beat myself up and just get up and try better tomorrow.
Day two I stuck to the shakes completely.
Today is day three and I am feeling a little more confident about things. It's been a life saver to be a part of the bariatric facebook community that is local to my area - I am feeling a little less crazy and realizing that I am not alone in the journey.
Over the next several months I met with the weight management doctor and did a host of other clearances. Cardiac, Pulmonary, Psychological, blood work, xrays, ultrasound of my gall bladder, sleep study. I remember thinking to myself that there was no way that all of this was necessary. THIS IS MAJOR SURGERY - hello.... they are cutting up your insides! I continued to meet with the weight management doctor up and to about a month ago... I have about 19 days until my actual surgery.
I have to do three weeks of liquid diet. 7 Optifast shakes, 64 oz of caffeine free, sugar free, calorie free drinks... every day for 21 days. I won't eat food again until probably December... and it will be so little that it probably won't matter much. No one tells you how hard it is going to weigh on you emotionally. I am truly humbled.
The first day of Optifast broke me mentally. I cried most of the day and was a royal crotch. I yelled at my family for filling the house with food smells and not being supportive. I made it through the first day and then two hours after I drake the last shake for the day, I did something that I have never done in my life.
I binge ate.
I cried the whole time and almost vomited... WTF is wrong with me?!
I ended up crying and talking to one of my best friends and they reminded me how hard I worked up an to now and encouraged me to not beat myself up and just get up and try better tomorrow.
Day two I stuck to the shakes completely.
Today is day three and I am feeling a little more confident about things. It's been a life saver to be a part of the bariatric facebook community that is local to my area - I am feeling a little less crazy and realizing that I am not alone in the journey.
Sunday, September 3, 2017
Black Boxes Burning Blue in the Nothingness
It was strange to realize that I spend so much time telling PEOPLE my problems. How foolish of me to expect their guidance, their approval.. and I don't want or need it. We are groomed and taught from a young age to have this standard of respect and communication with others. There are layers of respect forced upon us. Respect for parents, friends, family, authority figures, school teachers... you get the idea.
I recall hearing something once about loneliness being the human condition; it surely lends to the idea that we were not designed to be alone... it's in our very composition to need another. How tragic. I'm good at being alone, and yet I feel the urge to complain about it, if for nothing more than to contribute to this illusion that I am like everyone else. Nothing could be further from the truth.
Over the years I have systematically cut people off from my life. It started shortly after the death of my Mother in the summer of 2011. Up until then I had been lulled into this thinking that life was long and all about experiences and adventure. The minute that I left the nest I spread my wings and was determined to take in whatever life could offer me. Wobbly and unsure in the unknown, I made many mistakes and filled my memory stores to the brim with life. My Mother would always say that I lived the life of a person three or four times my age and caution me to slow down.
The world wound to a slow whir after the birth of my children and I fell into a routine life. I could have been a better Mother, not that I was ever a bad Mother... just looking back now I can think of a million or more things that I would have liked to had another chance at or add to. It's so taxing to love someone as much as you love your child...and yet the most amazing thing that I could never have even imagined.
Back to my Mother...
The world came to a crashing halt the day that she died. I somehow expected the whole world to pause and notice my grief. I felt like someone forced the very breath from my body and I couldn't remember how to inhale. The world was crashing upon me and burying me beneath; it all seemed so surreal. It's been 6 years since that happened and it never seems longer than last week. For whatever reason I cannot distance myself from it... I just bite it back and force myself to get through the day. Each miserable, agonizing day. I wish that I was strong enough to set it aside and not carry it with me; I almost forget what it was like to be carefree and truly happy. It was as if I had been filleted open and they ripped her from me, only to throw me a needle and thread and say "sew that shit up". Hallow. Empty. Aching. Alone.
Living with grief isn't really living. It's like a parasite inside of you that is devouring and rapidly replicating itself until nothing is left of the you that once was. What is left is something else entirely.
It's the weirdest thing because it didn't seem to happen as fast as it actually did. It began with the simple things, changing my hair, my look, my location. I cut away people systematically... I excused them for every reason; did they hurt me?, make me feel awkward or nervous?, were they unkind?, uncouth?...an embarrassment? Did they chain me with burden to the past and the me that fell away when the life left my mother? It really didn't matter, I could have lay down beside her on that table if they would have left me to it, but "they" did not.
It's for the best really. I would have regretted leaving my children. If not for them I would have lost it a million times before this moment. They will me to live. I force my agony into tiny black boxes and bury them within the darkest crevices of my soul. I feel like I am standing on the shore of a black ocean in the pale moonlight watching them burst into blue flames as the drift over the horizon into the nothingness that I feel. Morbid perhaps.. but I feel peace there, surrounded by my grief... it reminds me that I didn't dream her. She was really here and she was unique and magical and horrible all at once. She was human and holy and the only God I knew for a lifetime. Did she leave or simply leave particles of herself in me that furiously and fervently manipulate my being into the me that she dreamed or beckoned from the belly of a star.
I wonder if I will ever make it through all of the boxes of my grief. If I will ever truly mend and feel whole. For today, I am doing the best that I can and if it's not good enough, don't mind my absence from your judgement.
Sunday, January 31, 2016
The Now
I've been in a whirlwind the past couple of years and haven't gotten a chance to put things down here like I've wanted. Writing is such an outlet for me and putting it out into the void of cyberspace often helps me just let go of whatever is bothering me.
In the past year or so I have been working hard to foster a better relationship for my children with their Father's side of the family. It hits home that my Mother is gone and seeing as I have abandoned most of her family, I really feel like it is my duty to strengthen the bonds that my children have with their extended family. This is a truly taxing ordeal for me, because from the very beginning there has really been no love loss between them and I.
I don't think I know many women in my situation that would choose the same path as me. It's a hard road to follow and I think many single mothers choose the easier route and either hold a vendetta or search for vindication.
My kids' father is not the easiest person to deal with, let it be said. He's shiftless, a huge procrastinator and generally self serving. He is an avid liar with a healthy side of entitlement, and as if that isn't enough to drive you crazy he has an extremely smart mouth and no filter for the inappropriate.
I've tolerated most of that and bit my tongue for the past year or so. I've suffered through his many phone calls to tell me his problems and often times him asking me to fix them or hoping I would offer. He's been through several relationships in the past year or so and floated from place to place. At the tail end of last year he was going on about the open relationship that he was in and how they were swingers - I warned him that it just didn't sound safe and he shrugged it off only to tell me a couple weeks later how the girl stabbed him. On one hand I feel bad, but at the same time it all just settles in my mind and I am reminded why he is not a suitable person to parent my children... and why it is so vital that I remain steadfast in suffrage by allowing him to visit the children at my residence where I know it's safe.
Short visits turn to longer visits and begin to include meals and allowing him to wash laundry... like it's my obligation to feed him or allow him amenities if I expect him to visit with the kids. Not surprising to me that he uses the kids as a vehicle to meet his means. My current boyfriend and I joke about how he is like our adopted child, though I know a lesser man would make my life a hell for allowing him to consistently wipe his feet on my doormat.
In the past year my oldest son has had 2 major surgeries. There has been ongoing complications with his neck and necrotic tissue. My heart breaks, he is eleven and children at school can be so cruel about the sizable scar on his neck. It's a lot for a child to overcome and it he cries sometimes about being different and just wanting to fit in and "belong". I hate having the talk with him and telling him that no matter how much he has or how "popular" he is that there will always be people to talk about him and always having something to criticize is much the way that most people are these days. I struggle to empower him and build a strong sense of self within his heart, but often times I am certain that my words are anything but a comfort to him and often fall on deaf ears.
My youngest child suffers from Autism and sensory disorder... and two days ago had to have his tonsils and adenoids removed. It's a fairly routine outpatient surgery, but to him it is very stressful and alarming. A huge deviation from his normal routine and accompanied by pain and limitations that make his anxiety go off the charts.
Upon leaving the hospital to head home his father, without even asking me, asks my son if he wants him to stop over and see him and finalizes plans to see him in about an hour. I'm instantly annoyed. I mean don't even ask me if it is a good time (which I know it isn't). My son will be groggy and tired and really should spend the bulk of his time sleeping. When he arrives at the house nearly and hour and a half later, he comes through the door with two slurpies from the gas station, one for each child and I am thinking... seriously? nice thought, but there is no way that my youngest son, fresh from surgery is going to even put a dent in that drink... so I tell him that he might as well just put it in the freezer.
My youngest son is sleeping, and his father is standing in the doorway coughing up a lung. I say to him that if he feels sick he shouldn't be here and even still coughing like that he should go back outside as not to wake my boy. He responds per usual with a smart ass comment followed by some name calling and my anger mounts, though I say nothing. My son ends up waking up and I get him settled with a new movie and his medicine. Within the half hour his father has fallen asleep on my sofa (unknown to me at the time) and I can hear my child calling to him, straining his voice to get his attention. I step into the room to find him asleep and I become instantly pissed. I mean if you are tired - GO HOME! You claim that you are here because of my kid, but then you are unavailable to him and SLEEPING! He gets up and stomps around the room like a child threatening to leave to get the kids upset and calling me names in front of them. I am asking him to step outside to talk and not to make a scene in front of the children and he continues to talk over me.
I finally get him to go outside and all hell breaks loose. I've had it. I tell him how I'm sick of him coming over here and using the kids as a vehicle to meet his means. How he has become my burden and it's not my job to raise a grown adult and provide for him. I'm tired of him eating my food, without asking and acting like my home is his, especially when he contributes nothing to it. How he shouldn't make plans with the children without asking me; especially ones that include and inconvenience to me. How he should visit when he can be alert and attentive to the children and quit acting like my home is his personal flop house. How he should fix his own damn problems and stop trying to rely on me... this of course was not received well and I was called everything but a migrant farm worker... small price to pay to have the truth out there, I suppose.
Everything I said went in one ear and out the next. When he came inside he was only there for a few minutes before he tells my 9 year old that he is going back outside to smoke and he will "probably be awhile" because he needs to "look for a part for his truck" - I could rip my hair out and I'm sure he don't understand why. YOU ARE SUPPOSED TO BE VISITING WITH YOUR SON... look for fucking parts on your own time!
I'm starting to think that it is fruitless to try because all it ever seems that I am doing in regards to his visitation is damage control with my children.
In the past year or so I have been working hard to foster a better relationship for my children with their Father's side of the family. It hits home that my Mother is gone and seeing as I have abandoned most of her family, I really feel like it is my duty to strengthen the bonds that my children have with their extended family. This is a truly taxing ordeal for me, because from the very beginning there has really been no love loss between them and I.
I don't think I know many women in my situation that would choose the same path as me. It's a hard road to follow and I think many single mothers choose the easier route and either hold a vendetta or search for vindication.
My kids' father is not the easiest person to deal with, let it be said. He's shiftless, a huge procrastinator and generally self serving. He is an avid liar with a healthy side of entitlement, and as if that isn't enough to drive you crazy he has an extremely smart mouth and no filter for the inappropriate.
I've tolerated most of that and bit my tongue for the past year or so. I've suffered through his many phone calls to tell me his problems and often times him asking me to fix them or hoping I would offer. He's been through several relationships in the past year or so and floated from place to place. At the tail end of last year he was going on about the open relationship that he was in and how they were swingers - I warned him that it just didn't sound safe and he shrugged it off only to tell me a couple weeks later how the girl stabbed him. On one hand I feel bad, but at the same time it all just settles in my mind and I am reminded why he is not a suitable person to parent my children... and why it is so vital that I remain steadfast in suffrage by allowing him to visit the children at my residence where I know it's safe.
Short visits turn to longer visits and begin to include meals and allowing him to wash laundry... like it's my obligation to feed him or allow him amenities if I expect him to visit with the kids. Not surprising to me that he uses the kids as a vehicle to meet his means. My current boyfriend and I joke about how he is like our adopted child, though I know a lesser man would make my life a hell for allowing him to consistently wipe his feet on my doormat.
In the past year my oldest son has had 2 major surgeries. There has been ongoing complications with his neck and necrotic tissue. My heart breaks, he is eleven and children at school can be so cruel about the sizable scar on his neck. It's a lot for a child to overcome and it he cries sometimes about being different and just wanting to fit in and "belong". I hate having the talk with him and telling him that no matter how much he has or how "popular" he is that there will always be people to talk about him and always having something to criticize is much the way that most people are these days. I struggle to empower him and build a strong sense of self within his heart, but often times I am certain that my words are anything but a comfort to him and often fall on deaf ears.
My youngest child suffers from Autism and sensory disorder... and two days ago had to have his tonsils and adenoids removed. It's a fairly routine outpatient surgery, but to him it is very stressful and alarming. A huge deviation from his normal routine and accompanied by pain and limitations that make his anxiety go off the charts.
Upon leaving the hospital to head home his father, without even asking me, asks my son if he wants him to stop over and see him and finalizes plans to see him in about an hour. I'm instantly annoyed. I mean don't even ask me if it is a good time (which I know it isn't). My son will be groggy and tired and really should spend the bulk of his time sleeping. When he arrives at the house nearly and hour and a half later, he comes through the door with two slurpies from the gas station, one for each child and I am thinking... seriously? nice thought, but there is no way that my youngest son, fresh from surgery is going to even put a dent in that drink... so I tell him that he might as well just put it in the freezer.
My youngest son is sleeping, and his father is standing in the doorway coughing up a lung. I say to him that if he feels sick he shouldn't be here and even still coughing like that he should go back outside as not to wake my boy. He responds per usual with a smart ass comment followed by some name calling and my anger mounts, though I say nothing. My son ends up waking up and I get him settled with a new movie and his medicine. Within the half hour his father has fallen asleep on my sofa (unknown to me at the time) and I can hear my child calling to him, straining his voice to get his attention. I step into the room to find him asleep and I become instantly pissed. I mean if you are tired - GO HOME! You claim that you are here because of my kid, but then you are unavailable to him and SLEEPING! He gets up and stomps around the room like a child threatening to leave to get the kids upset and calling me names in front of them. I am asking him to step outside to talk and not to make a scene in front of the children and he continues to talk over me.
I finally get him to go outside and all hell breaks loose. I've had it. I tell him how I'm sick of him coming over here and using the kids as a vehicle to meet his means. How he has become my burden and it's not my job to raise a grown adult and provide for him. I'm tired of him eating my food, without asking and acting like my home is his, especially when he contributes nothing to it. How he shouldn't make plans with the children without asking me; especially ones that include and inconvenience to me. How he should visit when he can be alert and attentive to the children and quit acting like my home is his personal flop house. How he should fix his own damn problems and stop trying to rely on me... this of course was not received well and I was called everything but a migrant farm worker... small price to pay to have the truth out there, I suppose.
Everything I said went in one ear and out the next. When he came inside he was only there for a few minutes before he tells my 9 year old that he is going back outside to smoke and he will "probably be awhile" because he needs to "look for a part for his truck" - I could rip my hair out and I'm sure he don't understand why. YOU ARE SUPPOSED TO BE VISITING WITH YOUR SON... look for fucking parts on your own time!
I'm starting to think that it is fruitless to try because all it ever seems that I am doing in regards to his visitation is damage control with my children.
Friday, May 30, 2014
whore of your love
why don't you just rip my heart out and eat it in front of me?
the silence
the loud, maddening silence
the pulse of my heart aching, holding as if to hold in it's breath
alone in the lonely death of your indifference and heart that conveniently forgets
reaching & pleading and groping at air
hidden emotions not showing, unfeeling and guarded leave me bathed in despair
i'd bathe you in kisses
if you'd speak only the words
you mock me as with laughter somehow you find it absurd
hold it in and busy yourself
keep me at a distance and expect me to grow in the dark cold shadows and shade of the corner I'm forced within writhing in a fit of ache clutching this hallow gaping space that pulses still like a rotted sore tho it's core lay in your clutches and dripping in gooey gore-filled drops from the lips that curl in displeasure at my need
my greed
the gluttoney that I feel since raped by the whore of your love
I raise you above
yet still I find myself buried beneath
the silence
the loud, maddening silence
the pulse of my heart aching, holding as if to hold in it's breath
alone in the lonely death of your indifference and heart that conveniently forgets
reaching & pleading and groping at air
hidden emotions not showing, unfeeling and guarded leave me bathed in despair
i'd bathe you in kisses
if you'd speak only the words
you mock me as with laughter somehow you find it absurd
hold it in and busy yourself
keep me at a distance and expect me to grow in the dark cold shadows and shade of the corner I'm forced within writhing in a fit of ache clutching this hallow gaping space that pulses still like a rotted sore tho it's core lay in your clutches and dripping in gooey gore-filled drops from the lips that curl in displeasure at my need
my greed
the gluttoney that I feel since raped by the whore of your love
I raise you above
yet still I find myself buried beneath
Thursday, February 6, 2014
2-6-2014
It was difficult to hear your voice today. To know that you
were sitting right there as your attorney spoke to me. I was grateful to have
the anonymity that the telephone provides because seeing your face sends
conflicting shockwaves through the very core of me. Emotion flooded my body and
I choked back the tears, not wanting to give you the satisfaction of knowing
that I hurt over all that has transpired though I know only a fool could think
me cold enough to not be broken. There is so much hurt in my heart. I feel
cynical and jaded to the point that I wonder if I will ever be able to trust
again some times. No one fights for my best interest. I find myself in a
position where I just want to be removed from the situation as expeditiously
and painlessly as possible. Outwardly, I appear collected and together but
inside I feel very defeated and broken in the wake of indifference. I loved you
from the first moment that I knew you with an indescribable tether to you that
I could never comprehend and yet from the very first moment that our souls
intertwined I knew somehow that you didn’t have my best interests at heart and still
I trudged on thinking that I could be the balm that mended your broken spirit
and that would be enough to hold us together.
You told me once that you knew that you would never find
someone to love you the way that I would and that was the reason that you held
to me with such a tight grasp. It wasn’t enough for you to be loved. You
chalked it up to immaturity and inexperience and came back to my life nearly
two decades later claiming that you had evolved and all you wanted to do was
love me and only me with your whole heart and make mine and my children’s lives
better. You openly spoke of how you blamed yourself for many on the iniquities
that had transpired in my life since our parting and with the deepest sincerity
I absolved you from any guilt that you might feel. The past had a place in the
past and the future was what I was looking to. It’s difficult however to ignore
the signs when they are right before you and sadly it felt too late for me,
having already married you, when I seen the rage monster within you re-emerge.
I hated you briefly. I hated that you wouldn’t let me grieve
the death of my Mother. I hated that you expected me to act as if losing the
one person in my life that loved me and accepted me just the way that I was at
any one point in time was of no consequence because you were to be some sort of
replacement. Only a week or so prior with stars in your eyes you had agreed to
love me until the ends of the Earth with your whole heart no matter what the
circumstance… and then here you were, angry at me for being withdrawn and sad
and emotional over losing the very being that gave me life. Marriage was
instantly something that you didn’t want or comprehend. You had all these
ideals of how it would be and in many ways I feel that losing my Mother caused
me to free you of all of them. I’m sorry for that. I truly wanted to be able to
make you the happiest man on the planet and fill your day with my smiles and
adoration much like you had dreamed, yet I simply wasn’t capable in the wake of
my grief. Much the way that you had expectations, I had them as well. I needed
you to comfort me and understand how I was feeling and set aside the desires
and wants that you had to take a more compassionate, understanding role; and
yet in many ways you simply just abandoned me. Your need to control me confused
me so much. I changed so much in an attempt to please you that I barely even
recognized myself over time. I wondered how you even fell in love with me when
I was so very different to begin with than this person that you were making me
into. It was as if you wanted to wipe away the 19 years of life that I had
lived and get that naïve nineteen year old girl that you met in Pittsburgh back
for a do over and I just didn’t know how to be her anymore. Life had changed
me.
I believed you when you said that life had changed you too.
I hung on your every word much the way I always have and took everything that
you said to me in the most literal term. I would happily forsake anyone who
opposed our union and cautioned me to think to the past which I had seemingly
placed large unsavory portions of from my mind so easily. I learned recently
that behavior of forgetting is a coping mechanism and have taken many steps to
journal my feelings from this forward point in an attempt to never forget
again. In many ways you have been such a poison to my life. Loving you has brought
such a brokenness to my soul. I have never really had regrets in life, I had
always chalked them up to learning experiences. I thought that I had learned so
much over the years but couldn't understand why I kept making the same
mistakes. It must be something wrong with me that makes people treat me this
way. I give too much, I give too little… I trust too much or not enough. I am
38 years old and I am just finding out through therapy that it isn’t me at all.
I simply lack the ability to choose someone that is good for me.
Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder. I can agree with that. I had
nodded in agreement when the therapist spoke to me and told her that I could
easily see that, as the death of my Mother was something that altered me in a
way that I couldn't describe and that I felt I was unable to move forward from.
She then corrected me and said that she felt that my first traumatic experience
was at age 1 when I witnessed my Father sitting on top of my Mother and beating
her about the face and that I had subsequently re-traumatized myself dozens of
times over since that very moment. She went on to explain that this forgetful
coping mechanism that I have so seemingly perfected is something that I have
been carting around since childhood, passing it off as this greatened ability
to forgive those that had wronged me. I have formed in many ways this altered
perception of events to push the events that are unbearable to me out of my
head and life completely. I trick myself, almost into forgetting the events that
broke me from you to begin with. (Unless you remind me) I guess that is why it
came as such a shocking revelation to me when you were on top of me screaming
in my face with your fist clenched above my face. Until that blinding moment I
had forgotten that you even possessed the ability to cause me physical pain… I
instantly remembered.
I sat there on the kitchen floor sobbing for hours, holding
my children close and somehow realizing that the trauma that I experienced as a
child was now officially passed on to them. It wasn’t the first time and it
wouldn’t be the last. It’s no surprise to me that my children have no desire
for me to be in a relationship with anyone. They speak to their therapist with
fear that I will welcome someone to hurt me again and how they want to have
weapons so that they can protect me from anyone that would want to harm me from
this point on. I cry a lot to my therapist about what a failure I feel like for
bringing this hurt into their lives. I can only hope that therapy will fix that
for them and that the cycle will end here and not be something that follows
them into adulthood.
I have spent countless hours evaluating the relationships
that I was holding onto in my life. We are raised with a certain moral
obligation to allow people into our lives that otherwise would hold no place
there and simply do not belong. My Mother came from a large family that
outwardly seems so tight knit and connected. Growing up, I was at no loss for
frequent family gatherings and all the dramatics that follow.
Sunday, November 10, 2013
hoping it's enough, knowing it's not and praying like hell that it all works out
Life is hard, now I know, no one said it would be easy. I hear my child downstairs crying this morning and I ask him what is wrong. I know what is wrong. Stress has engulfed our lives and he's just a mixed up nine year old trying to sort through the wave of crap that has consumed us and I feel like a horrible Mother for not having the bandaid fix to make it all better instantly. I fight so hard to hide my hurt and despair for their sakes and I try to stay positive and have faith in the fact that doing good and putting good out there will yeild good results, but I am reminded quite often that no good deed goes unpunished.How do you look into your crying child's eyes, when all you have to offer is tired hurt eyes looking back at him telling him that you are doing the best that you can (hoping it's enough, knowing it's not and praying like hell that it all works out in the longrun).Divorce is hard. Even harder when your spouse was an abuser. Harder still when he makes it his mission to retain a hold on your life and make your situation as desperate as possible. I am fighting to flee the reach of his grasp and get back to a place where even if it is terrible to start over with nothing... at least it is a start. I am fighting to get back home, with no home even, just to put us in the center of friendly faces and leave behind the mountain of despair that he comfortably hangs over our shoulders.I try to look at things from his side, maybe I am a fool. I try to make some sense of the things that he is doing and the things that have transpired. I guess I think some how that if I can wrap my mind around it that I will be able to anticipate what is going to happen next... as you can imagine I am not having much luck anticipating the next blow. I feel much times like I am fighting a losing battle. I feel like a horrible Mother.. inadequate if you will and looking at their faces a million thoughts rush my mind about the up coming holidays and how empty and different they will be for us this year.I wish I could fast forward and see that it all turns out okay and hold that thought firmly in my mind. I wish that I could be stronger and that I had anyone that I could rely on to get us through.It's hard enough being a kid and how unfair it seems to me that they have to go through any of this. I have people (DV advocates) telling me that it is not my fault and I didn't ask for this, but I can't help feeling sometimes that I have no one to blame but myself. Poor choices have seemingly been my forte consistently over time. Equally as many people that are there to tell me wonderful things there are people a plently that are none too hesitant to blame me for all of this. My husband's family, and my children's family on their father's side blame me totally. I should have never left ohio. I should have never gotten married. I should have suffered silently with our abuser and I wouldn't be in the mess I am in now. They are right, but then we might not be alive either and that's the hard cold reality of it. The life we are living now is no life.. well I can't really argue that logic; but I am trying to have hope.Words are powerful weapons. They stick with you. It's a kind of soul burn that is not so easliy healed. I've been a victim of words and unhealthy situations almost my entire life. I watched my Mother be abused and I always thought that was ending with me and I would not live the life my Mother had, but like her in so many ways I continually find myself in those shoes and with less grace I might add. I don't want that for my children. More than anything I want to take the necessary steps to prevent them from experiencing the hurt and disgrace that I know all to well. I want them to be empowered to find the happy healthy relationships that I have found myself searching for too many times and to be so strong in their conviction and values that they will never find themselves settling for anything less.I held my oldest son for about an hour this morning as he wept in my arms. Afraid to tell me that he was worried about losing things that mean something to him. Afraid to tell me that he's scared about facing the unknown. Frightened to share that change is something he is not comfortable with. He's 9 and shouldn't bear this burden, but he worries a lot like me. I had him at the doctor earlier this week as he was having troubles with his tummy and what it boils down to is stress. Stress is a monster illness, I know all to well as I watch my hair fall out in handfulls every day. There is no miracle cure for stress and worry. I guess it just has to run it's course. I try to comfort him, holding his hand in mine and stroking it gently offering comforting words in a calm tone and biting back tears as even I breathe the words to him that it is alright to cry. He feels alone. I can't help but feel like I am failing him. My shoulders feel weak and I want to break down too, but inside I feel like the only option I have is to try to be strong. I hear in the back of my mind my Mother's voice saying to me that if I am okay with it they will be okay and sometimes it's just better to fake it until you make it. Be strong ! So many people tell me that I am strong, but I am not really. I am good at putting on a smile face and trying to perpetuate a radiant happiness, i joke, i laugh; it all seems legit. but when I am alone - I break.I need help up. I feel largely like the last month or two has been spent resourcing as much as possible to try to find some sort of relief or aid from this circumstance. I was surprised to find that there are a wealth of organizations available to address the very issues that we are undergoing, but distressed to find that they are exhausted of funding in the county where I reside. More so than that that any orginization that would potentially be able to provide aid here would only be able to be proactive about us staying here. New Jersey is a dead end street. The cost of living is extremely costly and I have no resources, family or even friends here. I'm told that a support system is extremely vital to rising like a phoenix from this incident and the only place I have that at all is in Ohio. I'm scared.I'm so scared I can't breathe sometimes.I just want everything to be okay. I'm doing everything I can and it doesn't even come close to feeling like enough. Go to a shelter in Ohio. Leave behind most of our memories and treasures. Risk losing my children's pets. Begin again with nothing but each other. It sounds so simple - I assure you that it is not. I need a miracle...and i need it in less than a week. I need a hug, one of those squeeze you tight never let you go hugs... I barely remember having one it seems so long ago.I know I am not alone. I know I am not the only person that has been in an abusive relationship and lost everything trying to escape it. I am certain there are people that have had a worse go at it than I. Even as I sit here and write this in a feeble attempt to unburden my mind with the weight of these emotions I can hear the words that my husband's aunt wrote to me the day the police removed him from the home.. I am not supposed to tell anyone how I feel but rather keep it to myself, bearing my heart to people " is sick and a testament to your low self esteem and character! " I never responded to that and I probably never will as it would only incite her to further verbally bash me. It makes me not want to say anything to anyone and I find myself holding in more than I can hold. I don't want to be that person that everyone feels sorry for.. I just can't bear to hold in my hurt. Leaving is difficult under any circumstance. It's hard to love someone and have them hurt you. I changed so much and so rapidly that I barely even recognized myself when I looked in the mirror. I thought if I kept changing it would get better and be enough. People look into your life outwardly and they have a lot of "should have's" to offer you. You should have left when... you should have fought back... you should have never married him.. It's a good thing that I don't think about the should have's every day. What's that they say about hindsight being 20/20? Of course it is easy to look back now and see where there might have been a better option to prevent it from getting this out of hand. There are a ton of different things battling you when you are inside of that situation though... I felt frozen, powerless and worse obligation. I took the stuff that was dished out to me and set it aside arguing with myself that I was sacrificing my happiness for a better life for my children. I was so mixed up and confused in the wake of my Mother's passing that I can't even begin to rationalize how I made that be an okay thing in my mind. I wish someone could just open up my head and reprogram my head to think wiser.Sigh... back to packing.
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