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!

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!

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!

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!

Loving life. Learning …

So, I’ve been in Colorado for over 3 months now.  Not that there is much to brag about… the whole state is under lock-down, essentially.  You can’t go anywhere without a mask and since I can’t breathe in them, I simply stay home for weeks at a time.  YUCK!

In staying home, I’ve had a lot of time to think, reflect, learn, grow.

It has occurred to me that my communication skills are non-existent.  They always have been, if I’m being honest.  I can communicate here, in writing, and in most other venues where the written word are appreciated.  However…  FACE to FACE or verbal communication is impossible for me sometimes.  I just don’t know how.  I don’t know “words”.  Words are hard  LOL

Growing up, if there were issues or problems or arguments, my family (on both sides) simply avoided communication entirely.  No phone calls, no visits, no conversations.  Just nothing.  So, as an adult, that’s what I do.  I shut down.  I thought everyone did it.  Seems a lot of people have a lot of feelings that they want to convey and I have no idea how to do that or what to do with theirs.  I always feel like I’m being attacked and on the defensive.  Mainly because if someone is sharing a feeling with me, it’s anger/frustration/jealousy/disappointment.

I don’t know what love is.  I don’t know how to show it (clearly what I thought was the right way, was COMPLETELY WRONG), receive it, process it, or even enjoy it!  What I have thought was love over the years was nothing more than manipulation, lies, bullshit, smoke and mirrors, and a fantasy.  I am 47 years old and literally flailing to survive “feelings”.

We live in a world where no one gives a shit about your feelings.  They want you to care about theirs, but the attention and devotion is not reciprocated.  As a result, WTF is the point in bothering?  Seriously?

I’m down to only one child speaking to me at this point and I think that’s out a sense of guilt or obligation.  My youngest has decided to have a relationship with my parents (whom I can’t speak to.. the toxicity they bring to my life is not worth sacrificing my self respect and happiness any longer ) and is now under “the spell”.  She has no idea what it was like being me in that household.  No one does and no one ever gave a shit to ask or understand.  Hopefully, she gets it one day and comes back… if not… 2 down, I got one left.  Hopefully, I don’t lose her too.  I wasn’t a perfect mom by any stretch of the imagination, but I tried my hardest to break the cycles and show my kids love every day.  Clearly, I failed.  But they are amazing young adults, so I didn’t fuck it up completely.  I am, however, the punching bag and source of their anger and pain lately and all I can do is apologize and own it.  No one wants explanations.  No one wants my side.  They just want to be heard.  I’ve lived my whole life in “defense” mode and have no idea how to navigate through this except to give them their space and wait.  I’m sure that’s the wrong approach too, and I’ll hear about that at some point, but I have no idea how else to react or respond to the situation.

Dating.  What a shit show.  I’m just not ready.  Simple conversations seem to be a chore for people.  Given the last 10 years … I’m over it!

OH!  UPDATE!  Guess who is engaged after telling me that they never wanted to get married again!  Yep!  basically a year after leaving me, ghosting me, and treating me like shit …  I find an “I said YES” post.  Good times.  I genuinely hope they live a long and happy life together.  It’s clear now that he is just as bad as my family –  in that, instead of communicating, he just cuts off all communication (always has) and then wants to blame me that there was no communication.  *eye roll and head shake*  Hopefully, he has grown up and can be a working partner in their relationship.

I thought that I had met someone that could eventually work its way to meeting in person etc.  Red flags already.  Not actively pursuing that any further.  People from my past keep crawling out of the woodwork lately… all married… thinking I want to be their side piece.  Two problems with that…  I am no longer in Ohio and I am not going to be the escape from their life and responsibilities and I’m also not going to be a named party in anyone’s divorce!

Other than all of this, Colorado is beautiful!  I can’t wait to explore more of it.  Abrupt ending, but I have another conference call… story of my life these days!


Abandonment – realized

The last year has opened my eyes to a number of things that I’ve tried to avoid thinking about or address.

A few years back, I wrote my “mother” off … I had to walk away as a final effort to stand up for myself and put a stop to the nonsense that I had put up with from her for decades.

She NEVER loved me.  She may have said the words, talked to others and led them to believe, and may have even considered it in what she calls her heart.  Problem is… I know her heart, or what little of it that she has ever shown to me.

I forgave her.  I do forgive her.  For whatever reason, in her “heart”, she felt like she couldn’t or simply just didn’t want to love me or connect with me.  Before you say to yourself that every mother loves their children… watch the fuckin news, no they don’t.  My mother was no different than some of those mothers.  Her forms of discipline were enough to instill fear and distance me from her and shame me and make me feel less than worthy or deserving of any kindness or love from anyone.

I have always striven for love from the most hurtful of human beings.  Likely out of some effort to convince myself that I’m not hard to love.  The problem is, I am hard to love because even when someone does claim that they love me, I don’t feel it or believe it.


Not to say I haven’t, except to say that what I assume is love and happiness.  Occasionally, for a moment.  I always feel like there’s a motive, condition, or punishment coming from those feelings.

All of this ties back to her.  I can tie my lack of love back to being a baby.  There are no pictures of her lovingly gazing at me, holding me, hugging me, doing activities..  All of my baby pictures, that I’ve seen, show me looking stressed, crying, or looking like I was straining to take a shit.  Literally… not one picture of me smiling that I ever remember seeing.  I have been miserable my whole life (up until now..).

Now, I suppose, I’m avoiding feeling love because it seems everyone who claims to love me has this innate ability to drop me like a bad habit anytime the whim comes over them.  I have zero intention of dating anyone seriously again… I have no intention of getting close and becoming “intimate” with anyone.  Not that anyone has really ever taken the time to get to know me on a soulful level.  I’ve always been a past-time, a piece of ass, a distraction, a crutch, an excuse.  I can only blame myself for this happening, going forward.

Maybe, some day, I will learn to trust … Nope.  Doubt it.  People in general are too easy to give up on things and frankly, I’m tired of being given up on.  I refuse to give up on myself though, so it’s time to make changes.

Starting with… loving myself when no one else will.  Not exactly sure how to do that or what it means.  What I do know is that I won’t be sacrificing myself for other people and their feelings or needs any more.  I’ve always done this in the past to prove my love for someone… I’ve always done the things that I thought they wanted to make them happy.  Turns out, all it did was let people treat me worse and I allowed it.  I have always bent over backwards to forgive and forget, be the bigger person, be nice, do good.  It’s never really gotten me anywhere.  I will continue to be those things, but not for any other reason that to be those things for me.  My people pleasing days for validation, acceptance, and love are over.  WYSIWYG… it’s going to take time and effort, but I’ve accomplished bigger and better things.

Been in new “HOME” for 2 weeks

I arrived in Colorado after a 30 hour trip across the country .. This is my new “home”.  I just wish my stuff would show up!

As with everything else in my life, there’s always so much drama to get to the good stuff.  The movers got delayed after I left town, and won’t even be back to my house to pack and load until the 29th.  I brought just enough stuff to get me through maybe a week… Needless to say, quarantine or not, I’m going to have to get to a laundromat soon.

I miss my “people” but I hadn’t seen anyone in weeks because of the “virus” and the stay in place orders.  There were no “GOODBYE” parties, or any kind of goodbyes for that matter.  That part really sucked.

WFH in Colorado is amazing,  though.  I’ve gotten up a few mornings to more than 10 inches or more of snow.  The beauty of it is amazing!  I haven’t seen snow in Ohio, on this level, in YEARS!  The hard part is that most of my team is online at a time when I’m sleeping.  The guilt is a little overwhelming, so I’m usually online by 6:30 and online for a very long day.  But with this COVID-19 thing, 60+ hour weeks are nothing ..  very exhausting.

In a few days, it will officially be a year since he left me.  It’s been a rough couple of days.  I feel like I’ve moved backwards in obsessively thinking about him and I fucking hate it.  He doesn’t give 2 shits about me, my feelings, my life, anything related to me… OH!  Except my daughter’s newest “adventure”.  I still have no desire to date anyone new, meet anyone, or entertain even so much as a flirtation.  So over everything related to being in a relationship.  They’ve never ended well and frankly it’s probably best that I just stay alone.  I’m in a mood of “leave me the fuck alone!”.  All around.  I hate it.  Not sure wtf is going on with me and what happened to turn me back in that direction but I can NOT let this shit go and I don’t know why.

Meh.  Enough sulking.  Everything in my life is amazing except for that one thing.  Unfortunately, that one thing is having a tremendous affect on my life.  Need to get back to the progress that I’d made.  There is absolutely no reason to keep looking back.  Unless it’s to look at my old house and when my clean underwear will arrive!  LOL