Happy Stuff Those Emotions Day

Who’s expecting a gift for Valentines Day??? Not me, just, no.

I said this just the other night and my husband’s eyes quickly dropped to his feet. After all, we celebrate this day of love with those we love, and I’m not on his list any more.

As I recognize this and come to terms with it I am learning that after all of these years I am finding the energy to grieve so much. Past relationships gone wrong, present relationship gone wrong, I’m grieving life in general.

I’m learning so much lately, like who I am and what I need. So many people in my past have come into my life thinking that they could fix me. When the efforts failed things got bad, usually with me walking away still searching for the authentic me.

Many years ago I was diagnosed with Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder (PTSD) and I was medicated and therapized (haha, a new word for the day). I wasn’t on the medication for long, but the therapy did seem to help me some. I say “some” because my insurance ran out about the time I began healing. At this time, a bad day of emotions consisted of me feeling the pain so bad that I would begin to puke, exorcist style, and was laid up for a day or two with severe headaches.

Moving forward, when I met my current husband I was in the midst of leaving a horrifically violent marriage, and I had a lot of emotions going on. His thought process was that anger or “acting out” was not normal, so he took me to the doctor. Here I was diagnosed with PMDD or Pre-Menstral Dysphoric Disorder. You can google that, or I can give you my husband’s definition: PMS times 1,000! Medication was tossed my way, but no therapy to help me deal with the emotions of recognizing or grieving a life gone way wrong.

As life moved on I was going to college part-time, trying to raise five children and work. The plans didn’t go so well, so when I felt angry I was thrown in a hospital and diagnosed with Bipolar, more meds and a touch of therapy. By this time it had been several years since I had violently puked or had any sort of stress pain.

Over time it has been a continuous sea of medications, therapy, work to stay in the present. Don’t feel this, don’t feel that … if you’re not happy then your not normal. Neither I or anyone else has given me permission to feel my feelings, the response for the past 15 years has been give her more pills.

That’s until now, I’m not stuffing any more, I’m done hiding my anger and frustration. I have every right to feel and express my emotions without adding more medication to block those feelings.

I am pissed that I am in another failed relationship. I’m scared to walk away, but I know that I deserve this peace, and as angry as I am at him, so does he. I’m done stuffing these emotions. If I want to be angry I hereby give myself permission to feel and act on those feelings.

So, when people around me are celebrating their romance and love, I’m going to celebrate, “No more stuffing the lies and emotions day!”

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And the Spider goes SPLAT

As many saw from my post yesterday, my parenting abilities are being called into question by certain “loved” ones, okay, one, but it might as well be the whole entire world. Anyway, that post was my most viewed post yet, and was shared across Facebook many times. Awesome, I think as I worry what others really think of me and my parenting skills.

Then, my phone rings; my daughter attends school online, which is far different for her and more encompassing in her life and mine (as her Learning Coach). Well, based on my daughter’s teachers recommendations I was asked to be a parent to parent mentor. Heck yes, I’ll do that.

So, maybe my husband thinks that I need to stay with him to be a good parent, but my daughter’s school thinks that I am the “GO TO” parent!

Doubt me, call me into question, hurt me, tear me down, but my children are my priority and so it will remain!

And Down Came the Spider

So, for four or five years my marital relationship has been spiraling down hill. I brought this to my husband’s attention at which time I was informed that it has been longer than that. So, apparently he has been done far longer than I. I continued my conversation about the option of the children and I moving a mile down the road. His response is that I am free to go but the children are staying with him. I asked how he was going to get our daughter to her four or more appointments every week, plus extracurricular activities with his work schedule. “I’ll find someone to do that for me.”

Funny, we have known each other since 2001 and my parenting skills have never been questioned, but here I am, fighting to prove that the children should stay with me and spend parenting time with him. His reasoning is that I don’t have a job so I am unable to financially support the children. When I pointed out that I would have to be on assistance until our daughter is done with all of her medical needs he decided that I can’t take the children, because this is the only home they have ever known.

As I write this post I am reminded when I was working from May to October of last year. My daughters would often walk to my work to tell me that Dad was in the garage drinking beer and they didn’t have dinner. I would buy them dinner, and when I got home I would confront him to which his response was, “I wasn’t hungry.”

There is more, so much more, but I’m so trying to not bad mouth the father of my children. I just don’t understand how I’m not good enough to parent our children IF I leave. Yet, as long as I am here I’m a fine parent???

Watch “Broken Home” on YouTube

Today I was reading my Facebook Memories and I cried like an infant with a crappy diaper. Some of the memories talked about how supportive my family is, or shall I say was. Others talked about how bad I wanted to get my hands on a Blackberry (all the way back when they were the cool smartphone to have) I got one, and everyone was jealous, but what they didn’t see is that I got that on a Monday morning and all I really wanted was a hug by Saturday at noon. Even way back then, the signs of a doomed future were present, but I chalked it up to our fast-paced lifestyle.

Memories, of weekends away, to haunted bed and breakfasts with my husband, or even cozying up in a hotel room with no children … yeah, those things used to happen, but at what price?

My daughter often plays “Broken Home” by 5 Seconds of Summer and I too wonder, when did we lose this happiness?

How I Wish That I Knew Her Story

I just stepped into a fast food restaurant to enjoy a cup of coffee while I wait for my daughters. What I happened upon really has me bothered.

A young girl, late teens, maybe early twenties is at a corner table in the back, she watched intently as the pregnancy test that was perched upon her pajama clad thigh developed. Positive was the result, from what I could see. Slowly she rose and disappeared into the ladies room.

I continued to sip my beverage as I wondered, is she happy, is she sad, what’s the story? She came out of the ladies room and I covertly witnessed her shuffle, a slow gait, heavy with burden. She left the restaurant and shuffled across the parking lot, shivering in her thin pajamas as she disappeared among the trees buffering the next restaurant from sight.

Maybe I don’t know her story, but I know what it is like to put another life first, before the child is even born, and for many years following. I know what it’s like to wonder if tomorrow will be a better day. I know what it’s like to think that eventually things will go back to normal. Then to wonder, what the hell is normal?

She is probably half my age, but still, I know … I remember … I live it.

When will the world stop turning? When will I get this thing called life right? What have I done to deserve so much turmoil and contemplation?

Yeah, I know, I can relate; and my guess is that you can try to relate too, you may even succeed.

Alone in a World Full of People

I look around, at those in my life; sure, I have tons of friends on social media, my children are a huge part of my life, and that part rocks. However, when it comes right down to it I don’t really have anyone close by to listen, to lend a shoulder, etc. This leads me to wonder, what’s wrong with me? Am I really pushing everyone away? I have four siblings, for the most part only one interacts with me. My dad and I rarely talk because his hearing makes for difficulty conversing on the phone. Friends? They all live in far off lands, and then there’s me. Alone in some rural community, which I dearly love, but when push comes to shove, I need people right now, and I’ve got no one nearby.

People say I’m nice, caring, and all of those kind words, so I’m really confused. I texted one of my sister’s over a month ago and am still waiting for a response. The text? How are you? Yes, I’m sure I texted it to her, but have since learned of her distaste for me.

I suppose I should be in tears right now, sinking in an ocean of sadness. No, I’m lonely, and in some cases sad, but not sad because I’m lonely. I’m sad because I’m scared. I’m scared because I’ve got nothing and no one to help me out. No, not financially, or physically, just an emotional shoulder. My world is so chaotic right now and I’m uncertain where I stand or what to do. Often times, when I do share I hear a click of the tongue and a, “Good luck, girl.” I take that to mean, you’re on your own.

So alone, and I feel the need to grieve some of this, but I’m scared as hell that I may be burning the only bridge that I have.

Okay, straight up, I brought up divorce with my husband and told him that I want to be able to move back home (Pennsylvania) because I have no emotional support near me. I was in a matter of fact way informed that I will have to abide by Michigan’s 100 Mile Law if I leave him, or I can … leave the girls with him. WTH?

No matter where I turn, I’m alone. I wouldn’t leave my children … even if a gun were to my head, it’s just not happening. So, do I allow him to continue to tolerate my existence as I am dominated by him?

I’m sure that many will offer their opinion on my leaving such a nice guy, and they may be right, but I can’t give him what he wants, needs or deserves. And if you sat and listened to me for a spell you’d get that my last sentence is as true as it gets.

“If he’s treating you, like I treated you”…

Beautiful, very well written.

Eye Will Not Cry

sadd

~

You don’t look older…
You just look so sad…

Like the troubles you carry…
Are the worst that you’ve had…

That sparkle in your eyes…
Is duller than I recall…

The glint of diamonds…
Is hardly there at all…

And I know that it’s been…
Such a very long time…

Since we were together…
And everything was fine…

In the haze of that summer…
In the midst of the madness…

You’ve clearly moved on…
Yet inherited a sadness…

That drapes over your face…
Like a thin white veil…

And sits on your shoulders…
That appear gaunt and frail…

While the smile you paint…
On your soft, pretty face…

Can’t cover up your pain…
Or even begin to chase…

Those dark demons away…
That now reside in your head…

Who have stolen your identity…
Causing tears to be shed…

And there’s nothing I can say…
There’s nothing much I can…

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