Buckle up… this one is going to be raw!

So… a lot of us are passing the time during this pandemic by learning new things, cooking, arts and crafts, getting outdoors, going within, or reading. I decided to get a couple of books recently. One on Rocky Mountain National Park (an in depth look at trails, hiking, camping, etc), one on 150 of the greatest poems of all time (LOL I don’t have a clue what most of them mean and will likely need some Cliff Notes or Google to understand them) and then a book on true crime (like most people, I’d rather fall asleep to Dateline than to a movie).

The book is “If You Tell – A true story of murder, family secrets, and the unbreakable bond of sisterhood” by Gregg Olsen.

So…the further I get into this book (I’m on chapter 15), the more the memories of my childhood and my own abuse start to bubble to the surface. Things that I hadn’t thought of for years (for good reason) and wasn’t ready to think about or even deal with at this point in my life. These are moments that I have tried to forget, move on from, and never repeat as a parent to my own children. There are some very graphic details that were eerily similar to the things that my mother put me through.. and I’ll never forgive her for.

To say that I am emotionally damaged is an understatement and I’m, only recently, coming to realize is a result of my childhood and the abuse I had to tolerate. Silently. No one listens to kids. Even if they would, it was made crystal clear if I opened my mouth about anything that happened inside our house, it would be worse when it got back to my parents.

As an adult, I swear I can’t ever remember being genuinely happy as a child. I was either being yelled at, beat, ignored (which was a blessing sometimes), grounded, insulted, embarrassed, or denied. I have tried to give my mother the benefit of the doubt based on the stories she told us of her upbringing (which turns out was all lies when you talk to her 5 siblings all in the same room) but she’s in her 70’s and still acting like a fucking bully to this day! I was taught not to “hate” growing up. Ironically, by her. But I genuinely fucking loathe her. I can feel my pulse rise and my heart race and my blood pressure start to get a little out of control just thinking/talking about her. Physically shaking from the inside out.

I remember her going into fits of rage that would result in her dragging me by my hair (even at a young age), screaming at me, beating me as hard and rapidly as she could, barely able to catch her breath, red in the face and just sheer hatred in her eyes. Some days I had no idea what set her off. As I got older, I hid in my room every day just so that I didn’t say or do something to set her off… or just being in the same room with her. I did everything I could to make sure things were calm.

My sister hated me, my dad hated me, SHE HATED ME. I simply was a kid, but because she was always pissed at me about something or on the verge or a tirade, my dad and sister blamed me and hated me for the drama that it caused in the house. If I was allowed out of the house, I was usually on my bike on the other side of town or in the woods… anywhere that she couldn’t find me. I hated being at home. Even on the good days when we would leave as a family to go somewhere, the excitement of getting out was short lived because I knew we had to go home eventually, and her fake syrupy attitude would end about the time we got in the car to head back to the house.

I wasn’t allowed to cry, be upset, have feelings, talk about ANYTHING (kids are to be seen). If I so much as let a tear fall down my face or act out in any way, the yelling and beating started. I can feel the fear in me to this day. It’s just too much. She would tell me that I should consider myself lucky… there were kids in foster homes who had it so much worse than me. In being the kid who always had to argue (or that’s what I was convinced of), I silently wished they would send me away just to get away from all of the abuse. I even went to the extent of begging them to send me to boarding school in Connecticut when I was maybe 5th or 6th grade. I even tried to argue that the house would be happier, she wouldn’t have to deal with me anymore. Fail.

Starting at nine, right before we moved to the other side of town (where her inner Princess Diana could thrive), she started using dish soap. The first time she used this as punishment, it was on a toothbrush. Dawn. I’ll never forget that. Or the dozens of times growing up that I was made to drink Joy or Sunlight as punishment. Back then, the only dish soaps I hadn’t been forced to ingest was Dove and Palmolive. To this day, the smell of lemon makes me want to yack. To top this off, if we took a road trip, I would always get car sick. Her cure for this was lemon Jolly Ranchers. Just a snide little reminder to me that even though we were having a little fun, if I so much as breathed the wrong direction, I was getting my ass beat. It was nothing for her to get pissed at me for the smallest things and make my dad drop my pants in the middle of the mall/public and “blister” my ass.

One of my earliest memories as a kid and her lashing out was me running from her to avoid being hit for “rolling my eyes”… As she went to grab me, I turned to run, tripped and hit my face on our oak coffee table. My face instantly swelled up to look like the Elephant Man. She proceeded to yell at me that it was my fault for running, then bizarrely put me in her bed and pretended everything was fine and took care of me. She even went to the extent to bring a puppy in for a little bit to get me to stop crying. I WAS SMALL! Once I was better, it was back to normal.

When she didn’t want to deal with me when I was little, she would take a brown paper bag out of the closet, that was filled with styrofoam balls, and throw them all over the carpet in my room. She would then close the door and tell me that if she came back and there was a single ball on the floor, she was going to dump the bag again. Believe me when I say… there was more than one day that I spent, into the darkness of the evening, trying to pick up all of those fuckers (and in a static rich environment with carpet and a brown paper bag… FUCKING IMPOSSIBLE) out of my carpet.

Another day, still small, I have no idea what I did, but she made me sit in my room and brought me a “cup of tea”. In it was tea… and beef bouillon. So gross. But I was made to drink every last drop. Right around that same time, I had cut my own hair. This resulted in me sitting on the beach while everyone else got to swim. I wasn’t allowed to play in the sand, leave my chair, nothing. Meanwhile she got the thrill of telling everyone around her what I did, turned it into some dramatic event, while everyone would sneer at me or chastise me for her. Further solidifying in her mind that I was a horrendous child who deserved everything I ever got from her.

Still here? Let’s continue.

Once I was older, the beatings included belts and welts, more dish soap (now having to swallow), dishes broken over my head, flicked in the head by my dad (oh, trust me, he dished it out too, but mostly because she would scream at him until he bent to her wishes .. part of me forgives him because she was just as much of a nightmare for him, and part of me hates him too for not taking me out of that environment when he had the chance) chokings until I passed out (as early as 9… right after we moved to the coveted north end), being kept in my room for days at a time – only to be let out for dinner and screaming. She loved choking me … and my dad… and a coworker. Choking is her thing. It’s a wonder I never died. I wanted to, that’s for sure. When I was in the 4th grade, she gave me soap before school one morning and I got sick at school. I begged the teacher not to send me home because it would be even worse if that happened. Mrs. Zellar patiently put me in the back of the room, lying on some coats, until I felt better. Did she call anyone? Report my mother? Do anything to help? NOPE.

As the years went on, I learned to just stay out of the way or take the abuse. Nothing was going to change. No one was going to save me. Maybe one day she would just stop. Nope. This all went into my young adult life. To this day, if she had the chance and I had the balls to confront her, she would immediately go for my throat. She is MEAN! RUTHLESS. Conniving. A liar. A narcissist. A psychopath.

I ran away one night. Tank top, flip flops (that I kicked off after getting out of the house), and shorts. She was going to give me soap and I couldn’t take it any more. It had become a daily thing. She used it for all of her punishment for the most part, by this point in my life. She screamed out the door at me that I better get my ass back in the house or it was going to be a double dose. I ran for HOURS. Ultimately, I was smart enough to know that I had nowhere to go. I eventually went home. They weren’t waiting for me. They had called the cops and were letting them search for me. Looking back now, I should’ve let the cops pick me up. She wasn’t lying either, double dose, the minute I got in the door.

I’m not sure if you’ve ever swallowed dish soap but let me describe it to you. It’s a thick viscous liquid that sticks to everything going down. It burns, it causes your throat to shut, and once it hits your stomach, you spend the next hour or 2 throwing up. Does wonders for weight loss! I can still taste it and feel the sensation of trying not to taste it but the unmistakable watering of the mouth and nausea still haunt me. This went on until I was a Junior in high school. Which starts a whole new snowball of events that will have to wait for another time.

Weekends weren’t for relaxing in our house. Mornings were met with her flinging open the door to wake me up, screaming at me to get my ass out of bed, and chores all day long. One fun filled Saturday, my dad had gone away for the weekend, and she decided to teach me and my sister manners. Suffice it to say, it was a weekend of walking with books on our heads, proper posture, she put us into the tub and SCRUBBED us from head to toe (we weren’t dirty kids. She couldn’t have that embarrassment) and then dressing us in dresses, etc and teaching us how to be “ladies”. At 10! To this day, I have the best manners! LOL

On the days that she wasn’t screaming at me, I locked myself in my room (as if I was allowed to have locks on my doors… but you get what I mean). If I spent too much time in there, I’d get yelled at to come downstairs. I would sit on the floor, next to the loveseat, hiding and not speaking, but in the room to make her happy.

I didn’t get good grades. What kid on earth could, in those conditions. Even under the threat of being grounded or beat, I simply stared in class. I wanted to just escape. Any trouble that I got into at school can be directly related to my home life and not a single person took the time or energy to just stop and ask me if I was okay or if I needed help. Until High School when my boyfriend at the time came to see me at work one day. He could smell the soap on my breath (my mom found out that I used the phone that day after school and before work, she gave me a nice dose to get me through the night). He went home and told his mom and she called CPS. HAHHAHAHHAHHAH! The school called me to the office, I told them what happened, CPS came to the house… my mom invited the woman in for tea and they had a nice little chat about how awful I was and that I lied all the time and this was all made up. OH MY GOD! The minute that woman left, it was WWIII. I was told that I couldn’t date him, call him, see him. PERIOD. Weeks later, he shot himself and I got the call at work. When I got to the hospital, I was in the waiting room with all of our classmates. She came storming in and screamed at me in front of everyone “I thought I told you that you weren’t to see him anymore!”. Most people just stared at her. She went to speak to his mom, and it turns out that they grew up together. NOW it was suddenly okay…. but they pulled the plug 2 days later. Devastating. She didn’t go to the memorial, support me in any way, everyone blamed me… just another day to her.

In my attempt to find love from ANYONE and acting out from his suicide and the whole school pointing fingers at me … I dated someone much older than me and got pregnant after my first time having sex. She had always told me that if I ever got pregnant like a whore, like my aunt, that she would kick the baby out of me. I wasn’t about to tell her and went about getting an abortion without her knowing. I got there, and back, without her having a clue. A few days later, she was rummaging around in my room and found the doctor’s excuse for the school. AS IF I was going to tell the school what happened. LOL I should’ve thrown it away but I had to work and forgot. She picked me up from work and I immediately knew something was wrong. She pretended to be my friend, support me, until she found out who the father was. 3 weeks later, she was driving me, him, and one of his friends to Kentucky to marry me off. Oh what fun. I was wearing sandals, a sun dress, and panties. While we were gone, my dad had changed all of the locks. That was it. The worst and best day of my life. I got away from her (albeit briefly), and was now a married junior in high schooler. She didn’t want to have to deal with me anymore. Nothing better than missing prom to get married and having to explain to teachers why I would have to miss finals or make them up.

After about 5 months of that, he moved us to a few new towns and I enrolled at a high school for my senior year. I came home one day to him with a gun, threatening to kill both of us, and my parents came to pick me up. Turns out I was pregnant again. I lost the baby shortly thereafter and while I was still mildly under anesthesia from the DNC, I could hear my mother talking about me to the nurse that she couldn’t stand me and couldn’t deal with me anymore. She kicked me out 3 days later. Homeless.

After senior year ended, I moved in with my aunt. (skipping over a lot, I know, but it’s a bunch of the same stuff) Got a job. Met a medical student. Got pregnant again. Eventually, my cousin got sick of my aunt doting on me and came in my room one morning and told me to leave. I did. I didn’t have much choice but to go back home. The med student wanted nothing to do with me or our baby. Once I had the baby, it was clear that I was simply a surrogate for her . She had never had a boy and always wanted one. She had taken custody of 3 male cousins and a female cousin (who she told one day that she wished had been her daughter instead of me… they didn’t know I was 10 ft away listening). Once my son was born, I was forbidden from holding him unless he was awake or eating. I tried breast feeding but that was a nightmare. He seemed to hate me and love her. I was just a built in babysitter to a brother I gave birth to. I eventually moved out and tried to put him in daycare. She called me at work one day screaming that I was not to take him back there, that she had gone in and didn’t like that he was the only child in a highchair while the other kids played. He was eating. It was their rule. When I went to pick him up from her, she pinned me down on the stairs, by the throat, telling me I wasn’t leaving the house with him. I had to file charges against her, which she answered with taking me to court for custody. The judge basically told her to pound sand, that her attachment to him was unhealthy, and that she would get grand parental visitation.

It went down hill on so many levels, in my life, from there… Good lord, all of the shit I have gotten through. I genuinely can’t type any more. I did have to get this out, even for me. I have to move on from this stuff so that I can let it go and figure out what “happy” is supposed to be for me. So far, I have no idea. Happiness up until this point has been a result of fear of making someone else unhappy and them abusing me too. It’s a sick and twisted circle that I have tried so hard to break.

I wish I could say that I’m sorry for this long winded bullshit but I literally have no one to talk to. I refuse to pay someone to listen, I have no friends or family that want to listen to all of this, and I’m at a loss. I have to let it out. If I start crying, the pain is so bad that I can’t breathe. That small child in me is still in there somewhere and has never had a voice. I have to fix that.

** I purposely left my sister out of this .. for a few reasons. She was nowhere near treated like me, I don’t hate her for that, and I’m sure she has her own story. She was 20 months younger, but very clearly favored. It wasn’t her fault. I love her more than a single other relative in my life (aside from my kids and her family).

Part 2 will have to wait. It will cover family vacations, the cousins, relatives, the “almost divorce”, bed rest, my son, my daughters, and life up until now. Stay tuned!

Tick Tock Tick Tock

The last couple of years have been nonsense. I genuinely need 2021 to get it together and ready for my arrival. 2020 brought a lot of growth, blessings, and a LOT of time to reflect and learn. It also brought a new life and some visibility into what I can accomplish with just a positive outlook. So many changes this year and most of it just because I “wanted” it and set an intention. Who knew?

UNIVERSE: Can I get those winning lottery numbers? Could really use a nice house up IN the mountains and away from even more people. (I’m aware I contradict myself a lot.. it’s part of my charm!)

I never leave the house. You would think that I would blog more, but honestly, I’m so damn bored, I wouldn’t have anything to blog about… “Watched the mop water dry on the floor today.” ” It snowed… AGAIN!” “COVID is still ruining my social life!”

I leave the house about once ever 3 weeks to a month. Once I’m back home, I panic for 2 weeks about the smallest sniffle. I can NOT get sick with COVID while living 2500 miles from my family. Big dog and little dog are missing opposable thumbs and no one else is going to take care of me. I would LOVE to get out more but I just can’t take the chance that some dumbass feels fine, doesn’t wear a mask, and spews his air phlegm all over me. I was never a people person before (I can be, but for the most part, humans piss me off) COVID and this whole “Stay at Home” nonsense just keeps me in my comfort zone. Not conducive to growing and meeting new people.

My home state is blowing up with “THE VID” at this point… where I live now is bad, but not like back home. As much as I would love visits from friends and family, I’d prefer they save their money for next year when I hope it’s a lot safer and mask free.

It gets dark here, super early. Seems earlier than when I lived back home. By the time 5pm rolls around, I’m ready for my jammies and bed. I feel like an old woman! Just missing some cats… but cats hate me. Counting down the days until the winter solstice when the sun will start it’s trend back upwards. Part of why I moved here was the sunlight. SO MUCH MORE OF IT. Rarely see a cloudy day here and I love it!

Today’s blog is so damn disorganized… my thoughts are basically scrapings from the bottom of the barrel to make my subscription to my website and this blog even worth it. Atleast I’m not whining about how depressed/single I am! Not that the single part has changed at all… but that depression stuff is under control (or I’m just getting better at hiding it from myself!).

Ugh, gonna go pretend to enjoy working. Not to say I’m not thankful for my job… so many out there are struggling to find work or are doing the hardest work that none of us would do…. So, gonna go make magic for someone and hope that good Karma keeps coming back around!

When will I be able to move on?

Today would’ve been our 8 yr anniversary… which when I say that out loud, I feed stupid. Who stays in a non-forward-moving relationship for 8 years.

I have to keep reminding myself that I was a stepping stone. Nothing more than a play thing until he grew up and decided that he wanted someone else. I wish he hadn’t wasted almost 5 years of my time to get there.

I don’t want to date anyone. I’m tired of wasting my time. I give of myself hand over fist and put my own happiness aside to make someone else happy. For what?

Today just sucks. I want to erase him completely from my memory. Every single day, whether I want to or not, I think of him and miss what I thought we had. It was all a fairy tale that I created in my mind, of course, but I was committed to it and ready to go all in for the rest of my life.

I don’t know what love is. I give up trying to figure it out. I will never be that person.

I need to figure out where my happy went recently. As it stands today, I’m just existing and waiting for the end.

I know this seems contradictory of the last year or more but every time I think I’m ready, the universe puts me back in my place and reminds me I’m really not….

What have I purposely gotten myself into?

This is going to ruffle feathers and upset people, but it is what it is and it’s mine to own.

My first husband popped back into my life about 4-5 months ago. He’s remarried to an amazing woman, has 2 beautiful kids, and a wonderful life. To start this off, my intention is not to destroy that or be named in divorce papers with him again LOL. I adore his wife probably as much as him. Her feelings and status mean more to me than she probably knows.. but I think after this week, it’s becoming more clear to her.

They are here for a week. Mostly for him and I to reconnect and work through the trauma of our very short marriage. I was 17…he was 22.. far too young for all of the passion and drama that is marriage. After a very volatile period of time, we went our separate ways. Shortly after, I miscarried with our second pregnancy. We never talked about all of this at the time and he has carried a lot of emotion and guilt about how things transpired.

Once we started talking again, it was very obvious that we still have a very strong connection to each other. We truly love each other for the people that we are. He is 1300 miles away, so this is not a physical narrative for us… this is a deep and complex love that neither of us can figure out or explain…nor do we have any intention of trying to make it go away. She knows this, loves us both and understands that he has the ability to love us both in different ways. She and I have had our private conversations to discuss, but there is still that underlying question of “WHAT NOW?”

This conversation took place mostly last night. Face to face, rather than over messenger. She knows her feelings and her marriage are top priority to me and understands that I also love him very deeply.

Within hours of that conversation, he had a medical emergency on my back deck. He lost consciousness a couple of times and I swore he was having a stroke or some kind of seizure. I called 911 (against their wishes) to make sure he was okay. Dehydration is no joke at this elevation and we just have overdone it for days – trying to get everything in and make some unforgettable memories.

Now, I am spending my day crying. In the middle of all of this, while I’m on with 911… he looked so pale.. he looks at me and tells me that he loves me like he’s never going to see me again. I will never get that moment out of my head. I just got him back in my life and I’m not ready to let him go again. He is the only person who has been able to break open my heart, knock down walls, allow me to be me, and unconditionally love me. In a way that no one has ever been able to do. Not in a cliché way… in a true and raw way.

I have struggled with how to process this. We swore we weren’t going to let this get out of control, but here we are. And now.. with this.. All of us are trying to figure out what our future looks like, all together. She and I have joked over the months about us being sister wives. We’re essentially identical, minus a few things, and we both love him more than we love ourselves most days. Having her here, last night and this morning, has been a huge help for me, but we both are going through our own stuff.

I sent them off to make their own memories today. Something that they can look back on that is theirs and doesn’t have me in the background. It doesn’t mean I don’t want to be around them, just giving them some time to be with each other after last night. It also gives me the time and space to process my emotions that have come out of nowhere and with so much intensity.

I’m struggling with whether the universe is testing me. But how can LOVE be wrong? Just because our love isn’t conventional in most worlds, it’s something that we all need. I have deprived myself of so many simple joys in life. I don’t want to deprive myself of feeling this. After the last 2 years, this is exactly what I want in my life right now.

I’m exhausted. Mentally, mostly. Not complaining, just trying to decompress and work through all of this without dragging anyone else down with me. I have a feeling that there is about to be a very complicated and serious discussion between the 3 of us soon… Just have to decide how to move forward. I promised him I was here for the long haul, and that will not change. May just have to change the landscape.

Why can’t things just be simple, organic, and lacking drama?

What is a Relationship to ME?

Lately (as in the last couple of months), I’ve had to try to evaluate and define what a relationship means to me. So far, this has been a very confusing task but I’m trying to keep an open mind. I know a lot of people who are in “alternative” relationships/lifestyles. Up until now, their lives have confused me. Mainly because I can barely get a traditional relationship to work for longer than a few years.

Up until now, I’ve wanted the marriage, the big family, the quiet life. Turns out… I seem to be the only one that still buys into the traditional meaning of marriage (that’s not to say anything other than I love the tradition of it, makes no difference to me WHO is married…). More often than not, I get the “Marriage is bullshit” stance from people. I genuinely am so damn sick of that argument.. “It’s just a piece of paper”… SO IS MONEY, BUT YOU STILL WORK FOR IT AND GIVE IT AWAY!

My past always returns in some way. Turns out, the most surprising person from my past has emerged like gang busters. Originally, it was to discuss some shared trauma from 30 years ago that we never really discussed or resolved in a healthy way. It wasn’t something I wanted to face, EVER, again but has turned out to be very healing as the process has evolved. What wasn’t planned was the instant attraction and feelings that can’t be overlooked but seem incredibly inappropriate in a traditional sense. They have been re-married for almost 25 years. Their wife knows about me, and they both are very open and honest with each other after going through a rocky piece years ago. They’ve learned how to discuss hard topics in a healthy way and resolve any issues before they become an obstacle.

I personally, have no idea what that’s like or how to navigate it. This is forcing me out of my comfort zone of being a hermit and choosing not to date or let anyone in for the foreseeable future. All of the secrets and scars have been revealed and there is this feeling of total acceptance that I get (that I also don’t know what to do with… someone who accepts me for all of my flaws. Unconditionally). It’s a sweet connection full of all of the things you could ask for. Granted, it’s from 1500 miles away… solely through phone calls and texts… so I struggle with the validity of all of it. What if I’m just making this all up in my head? What if a casual joke has created an opportunity that I should run with and see what happens.

The very conservative (only time you will hear me say that about myself) side of me keeps telling myself that this is a ridiculous notion. It will never work. That they can’t possibly understand what they are getting themselves into and that I need to keep this all at an arms length to avoid anyone getting hurt. But I also feel like they would never do a single thing to hurt me. It’s just not who they are.

There is some back story to this that was addressed briefly in my last blog regarding my mother driving us to Kentucky to get married when I was 17. No, I wasn’t pregnant at the time. He was older than me and my mother didn’t approve of some of the choices that we had made back then and decided that if we were going to make adult choices, we would suffer adult consequences. What it was really about is her lack of control over me any longer and she was going to have none of that. Our marriage was very brief (divorced by 18), and very tumultuous. WTH do you expect from a 17 yr old girl and a 22 yr old man? Today, he’d be strung up and part of the cancel culture, his life ruined, and on a sex offender list.

So many things needed to be discussed, remembered, and sorted out. That’s now done. But in the process, there seems to have been some feelings started that neither of us intended. Now what? His wife keeps pushing him to connect with me, to the point she has told him to visit me in Colorado if he needed that time with me. Not sure that’s the best idea. The last thing I want is for anyone to be hurt in this situation. She has been so patient with this and welcomed me into the family with open arms. Part of me doesn’t trust that, almost like there is a trap that the universe has set to see if I’ll fall into it.

I enjoy having them in my life and the joy that they bring that doesn’t appear to have any strings attached, expectations, or ill will. I adore both of them. This whole situation has helped me move past the grief around Jim, opened my heart back up to new love (or the possibility of it), and given me new people in my circle that bring no drama or nonsense.

BUT NOW WHAT? Jokes aside, what if this moves to a new phase in life that redefines love and relationships for me? I’ve heard of polyamory and it has always fascinated me.. Pretty sure I could live that lifestyle, but as much as they joke, could they? What would that look like? Who is moving across the country? I don’t want to leave Colorado for a Bible Belt state. All of our kids are basically grown.. we have no one to answer to except ourselves.

I guess we’ll see… No sudden movements for now.

Just to clarify, I’m completely satisfied with this being an emotionally fulfilling, non physical relationship that enriches all of our lives. I’m just trying to navigate it all and process through all of the feelings that are associated with this. Let’s face it, my decision making skills are sketchy at best sometimes, but they are my decisions. Good, bad, and ugly or half-witted… I own them all and the outcomes of those decisions. It’s my own fears and lack of self worth that keep me from moving from my current state of stagnant.

Zigged when I should’ve Zagged…story of my life.

In this world of COVID, where most of our connections are online, things can easily be misinterpreted.

I’m not a great communicator at all but I try to keep conversations light, humorous (when appropriate), and easily flowing. The people who don’t keep the conversation moving are starting to piss me off. Don’t waste my time interrupting my day with a starter statement and then disappear for hours or days. I will easily blow you off in my very passive aggressive way. LOL I seriously do not have the patience to chase someone… For anything.

A conversation this last week was going so well, but at some point I went left and they went right… probably the second time it’s happened with this person. I have realized, since then, that I just don’t have the time or patience for this asshole. So many things that I say, or send to them, get a “Shrug” emoticon, or an “eye roll”… or just belittled in such a way that takes me back to a place I don’t want to be. I specifically asked if they ever NOT send something like that and was told that they don’t use it that often, but some need it more than others. I am not in a place to be trying to impress anyone or flatter their ego. I’m done with that. If you’re not bringing something to the table… kindly fuck off. “Namastaythefuckoverthere”

I tried to send a funny filtered Monday photo from Snapchat and they said “I had to delete that. It freaked me out!” They accidentally butt Face Timed me one day and quickly said “Let’s not do that again, I can’t stand that”… How do they have a conversation in person? What are they hiding? What freaks them out about being funny or seeing someone’s face? I’m not a troll! I’ll admit I have my days but c’mon… we all have them.

After the zig zag conversation last week, they sent me a video from YouTube of Shinedown’s “Monsters”… The words to that did not sit well with me. We have traded off songs for a few weeks and this one was clearly a message… Needless to say, there was a bit of attitude and 2 middle fingers when I responded with “???”… I got back a shrug and “We all have monsters”. Oh…. okay. Whatever… another double finger!

Needless to say, I won’t be reaching out to them ever again. I’ll be polite when they send some amazing photos where they live, but that’s the extent of it. There are so many people in my life that don’t make me feel like I’m stupid, useless, worthless, and a waste of space. I’ve gotten rid of those people in my life and I’ll just add this person to the list.

It’s too cold for zigging and zagging. Maybe when it warms up.. but no time soon. Ain’t nobody got time for that.

Couples Therapy

Oh, don’t get it twisted… I’m still “Super Single”…. I say that like it makes me a super hero, I have a cape and everything!

I went to bed relatively early last night, with the same intent as every other night during the winter months… “I am so tired, let’s go to bed early and get a FULL night of sleep”. THEN! Showtime on Demand happened and I stumbled across Couples Therapy … I was simply looking for something mind numbing enough (sorta like Dateline) to listen to while I fell asleep. Why not music? Maybe go read my previous blog about music LOL

I genuinely thought this was an acted “Drama”… I was too far away from the TV to see the fine print of the description (let’s face it, that was a polite way of saying that I’m going blind). Five episodes in and I’m officially hooked and now reflecting on my own life and my own issues.

Needless to say, I had to force myself to turn it to something else that ultimately did nothing to help either. My mind raced about so many things and the number of rabbit holes that I went down in my psyche kept me awake most of the night. There may have been a singular tear. JUST ONE!

I then tried to tuck all of that away in a tiny box in the back of my brain. Not one of those tiny Amazon boxes that they put a tube of mascara in, with 4 giant pieces of bubble wrap and a smile on the outside. Nope… more like that beat up box from USPS that has 43 things that you ordered off of WISH while bored and having had too much tequila!

I’ll get back to that box the next time I move, I suppose.

Music as therapy

Music has never been my thing.. *gasp* What? Music is everyone’s thing! Nope .. .Not me. I know songs, not singers/bands etc. Annoys everyone I know. BUT!!! There are certain artists and songs that will take me back. Some will cause immediate tears. RARELY! Because.. I DON’T CRY!

Today it was “Adore” by Prince.

Immediately the tears started flowing.

Before that it was “The Most Beautiful Girl in the World” – This one reminds me of my ex-husband and the good days. The Friday DJ Nights. Ron Rico Rum, Coke, Lime and Prince songs. He made me a mix tape (don’t judge me… this was 23 years ago!) at one point and this song always got me. I wish I knew where that tape was. I’d love to listen to it one last time. Where is that tape player? LOL

Prince had such a way with words… and sex, apparently.

Why am I just hearing “Call my name” today? I’ve never heard that one and I thought I had heard almost all of them. Great song for a man to his wife (hint hint fellas!)

There are songs in my life that will take me right back to a certain moment in life. Good and bad. Probably why I rarely listen to some songs. The tears start and I can’t stop them. Then I start thinking… and that’s never a good thing. Adore was that song today and although it had nothing to do with that person, it made me think of them and now I’m trying to recover my day with something far more happy.

DON’T EVEN GET ME STARTED ON NICKELBACK! Shitty band but fitting for my life at the time. Wilson Phillips too..

Time to play the Trolls soundtrack or something. I have a weekend to enjoy!

A good cry…

I’m NOT a cryer (crier?) – hold please while I Google. ** Turns out, either works, cryer is just the “archaic” version. *eye roll*

When it seems I’m in need of a good cry, the universe floods me with obstacles that overwhelm me and basically forces me to let the dam break.

Crying is exhausting. Feelings are exhausting. OVER IT!

The last few nights have been short in slumber but very vivid in dreams. This isn’t helping. My subconscious is breaking me down with dreams that break my heart. Or maybe it’s to wake me up that I still haven’t “dealt” with the things that I try to avoid.

One night, I dreamt that I was pregnant. OH HELL NO! NOPE! NO WAY! NOT A CHANCE! The next night hit a button that I’m eventually going to have to approach mentally, but I just don’t want to think about or even consider. Actually, the last two nights… The 2 most important men in my life over the last 20+ years, each filled me full of hope and then immediately turned around and married someone else. IN MY DREAMS! But it just hit a nerve that I’m not and never will be marriage material.

It’s a terrifying thought that I won’t have anyone to spend the rest of my life with. As humans, we are always looking for a connection and none of us want to die alone. I don’t want to be that terrifying woman in the neighborhood that is bitter and lonely and yelling at little kids to get off her lawn!

So. The question is.. which do I want more. Love or Companionship? I want both but overall, most people piss me off. I don’t even know what I want, so I guess it is what it is, right?

Why am I not marriage material? A few thoughts… I don’t demand appropriate treatment. I settle for what I get and hope that it gets better. I allow people to mistreat me daily and I don’t stand up for myself. I don’t feel like I’m worthy enough or important enough for love in my life. I don’t let my voice be heard. I let people shut me down when I try to speak my feelings or my truth but I will put my entire life on hold to listen to someone else. I see red flags and I help wave them instead of walking away when I know damn well that things are going to end badly. I disrespect myself and my dignity and allow others to do the same.

How do I fix it? How do I love myself? How do I believe I’m worthy? How do I set boundaries? How do I be at peace and accept this as my life? I thought uprooting my life and starting over would work but… as they say… No matter where you go… there you are.

Where’s the tissues?

The silence is unnerving!

The power went out at 2:45 am.  Brought me out of a dead sleep.  As I stumbled in the dark to the windows to confirm it was the whole neighborhood, and not just my house, I opened the windows to let some night breeze in.  It was COMPLETELY silent outside.

NOT A PEEP!  Nothing from a bird, no crickets, no cicadas, no cars, NOTHING!

You’d think the quiet would allow me to easily fall back asleep.  Instead, I laid there for an hour and a half waiting….  waiting for anything.  I couldn’t get back to sleep.  Silence makes me anxious.  This is why I sleep with a fan and a TV on!  If I’m left to my own thoughts and devices, just about anything can happen (if only in my head!)

The lists of things that I needed to get done started…  Beating myself up for some random stupid thing I said or did..  I tried to control my breathing but that just made the dog’s breathing and panting even louder.  I tried to focus on not focusing on anything… LOL Not sure how people meditate but it’s clear that I need to learn how to be in my own silence and be comfortable!

Once the power came back on, and the WIFI finally restored, all was well in my world and I was able to fall back to sleep for a solid hour before the alarm went off.  I was happy for the hour but a little bent about losing 2!

Now, I need a nap!