should i stay or should i go

i used to have a gypsy soul.

i used to not necessarily look forward to moving, but i did enjoy the process of settling into a new place; decorating, making it mine, making all my odd bits and pieces fit into as many different configurations as possible. like a never ending tetris of furniture and stuff: level up: two bedroom apartment: complete. next challenge: three bedroom house. three bedroom house: complete: back to a two bedroom apartment with no dining room: GO!

on and on it went. 13 moves in 13 years. i had boxes labeled in storage that listed exactly what went in each one. at one point i packed and moved a 2 bedroom townhouse while 3 months pregnant in less than 8 hours. BAM. bonus points (well, with help, so maybe not ALL the bonus points.)

i've lost my gypsy soul. i've become lazy or scared or both.

considering different prospects right now is terrifying and exhausting instead of challenging and energizing. as much as i hate/love my house, the thought of leaving it makes my gut twist more than i would expect. i sat in my kitchen the other night contemplating what moving would mean and with a clear view of floors that need repair, walls that are crooked, mouse traps set because 115 year old rock foundations are a neon invitation to the dirty bastards, knowing the carpet upstairs needs replaced because dog, thinking that eventually the roof will need redone, how much work the yard needs, how badly the whole garage needs to burn to the ground and start over...even with the never ending home owners list running through my head, IT'S MINE. warts and all, i can do whatever i want and answer to only me.

aside from the physical logistics of more crap than any two people need, there's STUFF. there's kid sports and friends. there's favorite bars and music venues. i don't go out much, but when i do i know my safe places. I DON'T WANT TO HAVE TO FIND NEW ONES. there's familiar restaurants, stores that i know exactly how to find what i need. i don't have a close circle of people, but i do have fringe people that let me hover. i don't want to have to find new hovering people.

and i KNOW. a new city, a new place would be new people, new sports, new school for the kid, away from these assholes i have to fight with constantly. different city would have different music. different beer. i would get to know the stores, i would get to know the restaurants.there would be new and different opportunities. new things to explore and see.

BUT I'M COMFORTABLE HERE.

and i'm really, REALLY fighting with the core issue: am i going to let a few assholes chase me away? i feel like it would be giving up. it's not terrible ALL THE TIME. it's just particularly terrible when it is. but do i just let them win? do i just let them keep being assholes and not stand up for myself and defend all the shit they rail against?

i'm only bi. i'm passable. i have kids. i can blend. obviously. since they run their mouths. it's not like i'm trapped in a closet completely denying who i am or having to hide everything about my life away from this desk. so, SO many people have had to endure much worse. how many people in the military had to live their whole career in fear of being found out? how many people in every day jobs had to go along with jokes and rants because no one could find out. i'm not in danger. they wouldn't hurt me if i flat out said I'M BI AND WHEN YOU SAY YOU WOULD NEVER LET A GAY PERSON AROUND YOUR FAMILY, YOU'RE TALKING ABOUT ME ASSHOLE. AND GUESS WHO TALKED TO YOUR WIFE AT THE CHRISTMAS PARTY ALREADY? I ALREADY GOT BY BI COOTIES ON HER. HA HA HA. JUST A MATTER OF TIME NOW. i'm not a professional athlete that would lose millions in contracts or promotions. i'm not a public figure that could lose an acting career or appearances. i'm just a secretary, sitting at a desk, with a few assholes that like to rant every now and again. am i really going to let that disrupt my whole life?

am i so scared of change that i'm making excuses and convincing myself i can stick it out? i mean- I LIKE MY JOB. i'm good at it. i have my routine down. i'm comfortable. i have my groove. i have my schedule set, i can take time off when i need for kid appointments. i have retirement, insurance. my tattoos are ok here. i can change my hair and no one even notices. i KNOW the stupidity i'm surrounded by. another place could have a whole new unknown, worse breed of stupidity.

bucket kicking is happening. i just don't know what i'd do if i actually found a bucket with something in it.

it's what i do

well, my child is still a child according to the court in whatcom county.

this is very good news.

assault 4 as a juvenile means a year probation, community service, counseling. assault 2 as an adult would have meant jail time and a permanent record.

so. good news.

i should be relieved. i should be worrying less.

but i'm not.

i'm still terrified. i'm still scared out of my fucking mind every single moment i allow myself to even flitter across the whole situation.

i'm trying to sort out still how it got to this point. i'm trying to sort out who this angry reckless stranger is that replaced my goofy artist. i'm trying to hold onto hope that this isn't that far off from "typical" teenager junk that everyone goes through to some degree and he'll come out of it in a year or two and his dad and i will laugh and drink whiskey and wait for him to have a teenager of his own (in 29 years) to put him through all the same but different trials.

i'm terrified that it isn't over yet.

and i'm terrified of my perspective.

and i'm terrified that no one can see my perspective but me.

they started my son on anti-depressants. i'm sure they work great for some people, but I HATE THEM. i especially hate them when they are prescribed to chemically alter a mind that is already in a state of constant chemical development and change.

i've tried anti-depressants exactly twice in my life. the first time i was put on a birth control that was for mood swings and depression. it took three days before i was literally balled up in a corner, under my kitchen table, SOBBING and ready to end my own life. luckily my own crazy prevented me from making any terrible decisions because the dishes hadn't been done and the bathroom hadn't been cleaned, so there's NO WAY i could take my own life and let someone else clean up my (literal) mess. as i was sobbing and trying to figure out what to do, my doctor called to follow up on the prescription and immediately told me to flush the remaining pills and NEVER take them again.

the second time i was on a prescription for a ten day trial which i kept track of via blog and it wasn't TERRIBLE only because it wasn't ANYTHING. it completely flat lined me. took away ALL emotion. no bad, but also no good. i was in a boring, grey fog of nothing. not a great experience.

i'm much more of the mindset to try everything else before medication. anti-depressants are mainly designed to boost serotonin in the brain. the trick is, the brain only controls/contains 20% of our body's serotonin. 80% comes from (basically) your gut. 80% can be controlled through diet, vitamin supplements, exercise. those all sound MUCH safer than handing out a medication that you have to wean onto, wean off of, and has a HIGH rate of increasing suicide risk in teenagers.

but, as usual, mom doesn't know what she's talking about. a pill is easier. it takes less effort and planning. instead of vitamin D and B and meditation, yoga, better food, just pop a pill (and risk an already emotionally unwell teenager becoming more unwell).

a teenager that was asking way too may questions about my brother who ended his life way too soon. a teenager that "felt like he's the same" as uncle steve. a teenager that has always taken the easy way out (no matter how hard i tried to make him work for things). a teenager that has proven he isn't making sound decisions right now.

i am scared to death that he won't take any of this seriously. i'm SO GRATEFUL that he doesn't have a permanent record, but i'm scared that he may think he got away with it. i'm scared that he doesn't understand the impact and repercussions of probation. i'm scared he'll think of counseling and a requirement and not a tool to help. i'm hopeful that community service will teach him something. i'm scared that he doesn't understand the side effects and possible influence of medication. i'm scared he'll only take them until he feels better and ignore that stopping can be so dangerous if not done the right way. i'm terrified that he'll feel worse and not talk to anyone and make the most horrible, life ending choice an angry teenager can make.

i'm terrified that i can't help him. i'm frustrated he won't listen to me. i'm heartbroken that he stopped talking to me and i can't tell him that i've been there and done that.

so i just worry. and try not to think about it. but that's all i think about. i'm a mom. it's what i do.

safe?

well, as the superstition goes, bad things come in threes.

i've taken my three punches in as many weeks. it's been a helluva run at my house it seems.

i've been hiding while i sort through each happening, but hiding hasn't stopped more from happening. nothing will stop more from happening.

as forest gump so adequately said: shit happens.

i'm fortunate enough to have great friends that understand both my need to talk out and my need to hide. i've been able to reach out to my sounding boards and support systems as needed to work through some really shitty stuff. i'm also fortunate enough to have a therapist that doesn't deal in traditional talk therapy- i do enough of that on my own and it only gets you to a certain point. she is trained in non-traditional therapies (you may remember me babbling about hakomi therapy lately) and understands the way the body processes and knows physical ways to deal with and eliminate negative experiences. AMAZING balance when i've reached the limit of what logical analysis can do.

aside from the friends and the therapy- WRITING is my biggest outlet. i haven't been writing because- well. it's hard. i don't want to talk about terrible things. i don't want pity. i don't want people to look at me different.

BUT I ALSO DON'T WANT TO HIDE AND KEEP IT INSIDE.

so. here it is. the ugly, horrible month i've had:

a few weeks ago i was raped. one week later my house was ransacked (not robbed, but they made a good mess). last night my son was stopped on his way home from school by a person asking him to get in their van and give them directions somewhere.

any one of those is a pretty nasty blow to a person's sense of security. all three of them together has me reeling. the ironic (?) thing is that i *just* went to my therapy yesterday to get better tools to deal with the rape and ransacking then i get home to my son being violated. still recovering from a left right combo and the universe lands a core body shot.

i don't know how to handle all this. i want to take my son and move far away and hide somewhere. i know however that shit like this happens everywhere. there is no "safe bubble" that we can move to. there is no place that is exempt.

but what do you do when every sense of personal security is stripped away and violated? i've learned tools to work on how i respond to the individual events, but how do you regain a sense of security as a whole?

i know people would say: GET A GUN. what the fuck good would that do me? the rape was someone i thought was a friend. someone that had been to my house countless times and just...i guess decided that respecting me was not on his list of things to do. a gun wouldn't have helped. the ransacking happened when i wasn't home- if there had been a gun on the property now they might have it. not great. and what good would a gun have done my son last night walking home?

i do the easy things- i've cut communication with the rapist. i make sure my doors are locked ALL THE TIME now. i'm researching personal alarms for my son to carry on his backpack (the leading contender).

but what do you DO? i'm the type of person that worries about having the cops at my house two weeks in a row and getting on some annoying citizens list. i don't want to go crazy and install razor wire around my property and adopt 6 junkyard dogs and a personal body guard to walk my son to and from school.

i don't know how to fight back against the unkown. the rape was...easy? to deal with. i knew the person. i cut contact. done.

but when you don't know who's been in your house. when you don't know what stranger is stopping your kid. how do you fight an invisible shadow? how do you feel safe again?

but i'm not giving up this fight. i'll keep swinging even if it's just at shadows. i'm going to make sure my son doesn't live in a bubble of fear. i'm going to make sure our house feels like OUR HOUSE. i'm going to not let one drunk asshole make me scared of being touched.

but like any fight, it's exhausting. i worry too much about burdening other people or sounding like a hotbed of drama by talking about it. so i bottle it up and try to deal with it as quickly and simply as possible. i have days when i feel safe again. then days when i don't want to open my curtains or look outside. and i realize i'm still at the epicenter. these things just happened. i'm still in the first few circles of shock waves. i think (and hope and beg the universe) that all the shoes have dropped for a while. we've taken our three hits. just like when death came calling. it took our three and we found a way to make it through.

i don't know if there's a point to any of this other than just pure brain vomiting. calling the demons by name and acknowledging their presence.

it's been a rough few weeks. but i'm still here. licking my wounds and hiding but still here. staying back and plotting/figuring out a battle plan, but still here.

i have the silver linings- at least my rape wasn't brutal and bloody and violent. at least my house wasn't robbed and destroyed and left a total loss. at least my son knew to run away straight home and i'm not contacting the milk carton company today. i have my pillars of support. i have my horribly morbid sense of humor that handles dark shit like this in a terrible but therapeutic way.

this too shall pass.

painfully like a kidney stone.

but this too shall pass.

obligatory review

well. it's a week into a new year. i suppose i should take some time to reflect and learn and all that crap.

overall: 2011: not too shabby. not great, but for sure didn't kick my ass like the two previous years.

month by month shall we?

january: whatever. can't remember.

february: quit my job. the start of the new, different, year of changes. so many goals, so many things to do.

march: i'm bored.

april: i'm bored. oh, and lost grandma to bone cancer. sudden, fast, but hell, she made it to 88.

may: I BOUGHT A HOUSE. this is what happens when you're bored.

june: worked on the house.

july: worked on the house.

august: moved into the house. started making coffee. started working as a secretary.

september: kids back to school. hired/fired contractors that fucked me over.

october: halloween. i'm sure there was something else.

november: family holidays, whatnot. oh yeah: no more work.

december: more family holidays. more work followed by no work.

and here we are back to january again. there was so much more in there. looking back over blogs, looking back at kids, friends, pictures, there was some really good things and some really terrible things. overall though it was a pretty ok year.

now. the important things: what did 2011 teach me?

death sucks. if you haven't been expecting it, if you have, if it pounces on you, whatever. it wasn't any easier to watch my grandmother get sick and fade than it was to wake up one day and hear my dad was gone. you never want it to happen. you never want to let someone go. 25, 27, 55, 88 years...it's never enough.

family sucks: i still haven't been able to write about it but there was a huge shift in what remains of my family this year: in a way i lost all the family that i have left. i faced a really damn hard truth that my mother will never believe me, will never stand up for me, and would rather lose my kids and i than face some unpleasantness in her home. i also learned that my brother will unequivocally side with her. that sucks. it’s the only blood i have left and i don’t really have them. kind of a sucker punch, but at the same time i know i’m not alone, i do have good people and the world does go on.

contractors suck: i’ll expand this one to include: way too many people suck. i found out the hard way this year that there are way too many people out there willing to take the easy way, screw people over, do every dirty damn thing they can with no remorse. i had “friends” that disappeared when i stopped paying for every thing they could think of. i had a company i had been loyal to for 10 years fuck me without blinking twice. i had contractors that took advantage of my trust and left me broke and without a bathroom. i watched friends get screwed over. i watched my kids get screwed over. i watched employers get screwed over. it really sucks when you work so damn hard to do the right and best thing you can at all times only to realize you’re one of the very few. i guess i’ve was protected in my little cubicle world before. being out and around people now you see how many of them really do honestly suck. i LOVE that the people i’ve allowed in my life aren’t like this. i would like to believe the old saying: like attracts like. we all have a few exceptions, shit happens, but i’ve found some really awesome people that bust their ass and would do anything they could to help each other. i’m finding out how rare and precious that is and i like that i’ve learned to appreciate it more now.

fear is my biggest obstacle: i want to do so many things. but i’m scared. and i haven’t kicked my own ass enough to get over it. i’m honestly scared of dating- what changes will i have to make? what if he’s terrible? what if my kids don’t like him? what if they DO like him? what if i get rejected? what if i DON’T get rejected? i’m a pansy! it’s easier to stay single and bitch than step into the unknown. i’m afraid of failure: i want to start a business. i want to do all these great things in my head and work and make it amazing. but what if people don’t get what i’m trying to do? what if i don’t get customers? what if i fail and have to close? what if i’m a success and it’s too much to handle? what if i get shitty employees that try to fuck me over? what if i get good people and i can’t support them? and writing- remember all the writing i was going to do this year? i’m terrified of it. all the blogs that are still in my head- there’s a LOT of heavy subjects up there. what if people don’t like the serious side instead of the wry humor? what if i say something i shouldnt? what if it crosses a line and i can’t go back? i’ve been stuck since this summer. there’s one GIANT road block and i can’t decide if i need to bust it down and lay all the shit bare or skirt around it or avoid it all together. what if i say things about myself that causes me to lose more people? lose my support system because it’s just too much?

so. 2012: the year i kick fear’s ass.

also: a friend told me this year: “i believe the way you start the new year sets the whole tone for the year.”

i spent quite a bit of time thinking about that on new years eve. i wanted to do something different. i want this year to be different. i DID go out (just for a few minutes, and no adult parties...baby steps). i DID do something different (no disney channel). it was movies with my kids and sparkling cider at midnight followed by a movie with a very good friend and waking up in the morning to a hot cup of coffee and happiness. not a bad start at all. different, GOOD, and exactly what i want to make 2012 be. different and GOOD.

i’m applying for jobs. i’m working on my house. i working on writing more. i’m working on kicking fear’s ass. i’m watching my kids grow up. i’m learning to ask for help. i’m learning to accept help when it’s offered. i’m learning to discuss things as they happen instead of reaching an point of no return. i own a house and damn it, i want to own my life too. so. it’s a few days late, but welcome to 2012.

can you see the "what if" monster under my bed?

today all the local news stations are awash with a horrifying story of a local business woman and her son who were killed in an act of domestic violence. please know that i have no information on this besides what’s in the news- but from what i’ve read in the reports this woman had been on her own for the last 6 months (at least) trying to get away from the situation. she was smart. she had support. she had the right tools. and it still didn’t end well.

a year or more ago there was a similar story about a woman whose body was found in a warehouse days after disappearing when she told friends she was going to talk to her abuser “just one last time…”

just one last time…

i hate domestic violence. i loathe the cowards (men and women) who abuse the person they are supposed to love and support. i abhor the behavior and the way society acts and thinks there’s some reason or excuse or something that the VICTIM should have done different.

i am a domestic violence survivor. i’ve talked about it before. it was bad. he never hit me. he never threw things or broke things. you’d be surprised how many people think that it wasn’t “real” domestic violence.

i’ve told pieces of my story. there’s some (oddly) funny thing that make me laugh now. there’s some things that still terrify me. there’s more than a few things that still make me ask questions. and there’s days like today, reading different news reports, seeing other stories played out in the headlines when i wonder…why me? i’ve never been a big believer in the question “why me” i’m more of the school of “why NOT me? why would i be exempt?” but for this i wonder “why me?” why did _I_ make it out safe? why do i keep defying the statistics? why am i the one that refuses to conform?

and then there’s the even more terrifying questions: what if i’m not safe? what if i’m not exempt? what’s to keep my ex from snapping about owing back child support and coming after me? what makes me so sure that i’m out and away from it and protected? i mean…realistically my divorce has been finalized for…damn…just at 6 years now (some day in july, 2004…not sure the exact date). so i’m a ways out. but so much has changed in that time. he’s currently 5k+ behind in support…people have done freaky things about way less money. he knows people are looking for him, yet no one can find him. what’s to keep something from happening and no one STILL being able to find him?

is domestic violence ever over?

i still find myself doing things only because i still think that’s what i’m “supposed” to do. i put my purse in the grocery cart instead of keeping it on my shoulder because it “looks like a white trash whore” when i keep it on my shoulder. i’m still leery about leaving the house without make up. i still tense up when i hear trucks pull up outside my house at night even though i haven’t had to worry about what kind of mood he would be in when he got home from work in over 6 years. there are still memories attached to everything- i can’t help but think about the fight over green beans when i make tater tot casserole. i always hesitate when i invite people to events because i remember being accused of attempting to kidnap him when i invited him to thanksgiving at a friends house. i remember…god…i remember too much for being away from it 3 times longer than i was in it.

it’s obviously still not over for me. what if it’s not over for him? what if he comes back? the woman in the news today was a damn strong woman. she fought for women’s rights and children’s rights. and it still happened to her. i like to think of myself as a strong woman. a fighter…

years ago when i moved out i had been talking to a domestic violence counselor to try to get things in order and figure out all the how’s and when’s. to this day, there is one thing she said that STILL plays over and over in my mind: once he knows you’re leaving, NEVER, EVER, under any circumstances go anywhere alone with him. at that point he has nothing left to lose.

sure enough, the minute he found out i was leaving he wanted to go somewhere and talk. just inside, away from the people (a friend came to help me move). just for a minute, one last talk…

over and over in the back of my head i kept hearing the voice: never, ever go anywhere with him alone. maybe i was going to be one of the statistics. maybe there was a different ending that day. but i listened to that voice. how many women have never heard that voice? how many women did have a friend there? how many women thought “just one last time…it’ll be ok…”.

maybe you can hear the voice. maybe you can have the support. maybe sometimes there’s just nothing left that you can do. maybe some people are just hell bent on destruction no matter what safe guards are in place.

i’ve spent today sad and scared and angry and confused. sad for the loss of a beautiful woman i never knew, scared that it could be me, angry that these things keep happening, confused how people can still blame the victims. there was no reason at all for all this loss. there is no excuse. there is no explanation. there is tragedy. there is sadness. there is monumental loss. there is a gaping hole left even between people who never met.

i’m sad that so many people are hurting because of one act of cowardice. i’m angry that this many years later i’m still scared. i’m confused why people want to blame rather than support or fix.

most of all i’m scared.

a chink in the armor

so. you know those serious things rolling in my brain that i mentioned last post? turns out they won’t go away, so here i am writing about it. you know what that mean…prepare for serious with only a small side of humor. ~sigh~ stupid serious thoughts. why can’t they just take a hike? oh wait…this is me…and NO part of me is even remotely interested in anything that has the word hike associated with it…so…yeah, guess that makes a little more sense. dang.

dear readers: i have a flaw. I KNOW! it was a shock to me too. i mean _ME_ the epitome of perfection. a flaw. ~gasp~ a chink in the armor. a weakness. an achilles heel. i’ll give you a moment to absorb this. it was earth shifting for me as well.

ok…so. i’ve learned a bad habit or behaviour over the years and i need to UNLEARN it. not so easy after 30 years. especially when i’m just now admitting to it. i’ve known it was there for a year or two, but i hoped it was something i wouldn’t have to learn how to deal with. but…as goes life…it happens to be in an area that you can’t really ignore. or i should say the ignoring is half the problem.

so what is this tragic flaw? i have no conflict resolution abilities. as in NONE. as in the mere idea of talking about a problem sends me into a PANIC. having a serious discussion with someone TERRIFIES me. pee my pants, curled in fetal position in the corner, sucking my thumb, humming to myself TERRIFIED. throw up nervous. snakes on a plane FREAKING OUT.

i know. ME. of all people. the loud mouth, bitter, sarcastic bitch of all bitches. scared of an argument. of a discussion. of talking about ANYTHING that bothers me.

“but you’re doing it right now” you might think. well…yeah…BUT YOU CAN’T TALK BACK. sure, you might comment, you might mention something LATER, but right now in my little bloggers bubble it’s safe. see…this is a learned behaviour. and it goes WAY back. growing up we never talked about anything, let alone ARGUE. that was just something that was never done. my folks split before i knew what was going on, so i missed the battles there. and then when my mom remarried they NEVER, EVER let us see their problems. partially because my mom is 90% ostrich and will never admit that there ever have been even a hint of problems, and partially because the other 10% of her thought it would be damaging to us kids to see that. GUESS WHAT: ~shock~ i disagree. i believe it’s VERY HEALTHY for kids to see arguments between adults but even more than that SEE HOW THEY WORK IT OUT. so that way they know that not every discussion is the end of the world. things can be a huge problem, but it can be worked through. see that even if people get upset, or can’t agree, or have an all out battle it can be fixed and over come and it doesn’t always have to be an ugly, abusive, hurtful train wreck. it’s in the combination of the two words: conflict AND RESOLUTION. there’s going to be conflict at some point in life. GUA.RAN.TEED. it’s the RESOLUTION part of it that people need to learn/teach. and i have NO CLUE.

after growing up with my mom in the no conflict world, my oldest sons dad and i had a *ahem* few problems. we were 17 and pregnant. we had NO CLUE about life. there were some EPIC battles. hard core, all out BATTLES. and i usually ended up in tears (hormones…i totally blame the hormones) and nothing was ever resolved or worked through. after home, and baby daddy, i moved on to a horrible marriage. in my marriage i not only learned that i can’t talk about things that bother me, i can’t talk about ANYTHING. no opinions, no thoughts, nothing that wasn’t pre-approved. hell…the most epic/memorable battle was over green beans in the tater tot casserole. it turned into a SCREAMING fit of terror (him at me) to where i ended up in tears, on the kitchen floor, in emotional shreds. OVER GREEN BEANS PEOPLE.

so this has turned into me: unable to talk. try wrapping your head around that. ME: NOT TALKING.

i have things that bother me. i have things to talk about. things i NEED to talk about. they all start out as things that WOULD BE small issues, but i stuff them deep down and ignore them until i can’t stuff anymore and then there’s this huge earth ending explosion. and let me just say: not the best results. theyre small things would have been easy to work through and get over. but because i’m TERRIFIED of how it will go, i’m TERRIFIED of being torn down, i’m TERRIFIED of being walked away from…i just can’t do it. i can’t talk. and to me, it’s a very real fear: even in the last few years- the times i’ve tried to overcome this i’ve been gut kicked, torn to shreds and walked away from for MONTHS by close friends. sure, things usually (not always) cool off and come back around, but if this happens even over the little things…how on earth could i ever talk about something BIG? and so i don’t. i just push it all away to a back, dark, quiet corner and HOPE that it never reaches that boiling point. and it’s NOT healthy, by any stretch of the imagination.

and i know part of it is a shift in thinking for me: these can be discussions, not arguments, not battles. but history has taught me there are no discussions, ONLY arguments. and how do you unlearn that? you need someone you can argue in a healthy way with. someone you can DISCUSS with and not have it turn into a death cage match. and i haven’t found someone like that yet. friend, partner, family…anywhere. i have people that like to tell me i’m wrong for what i’m feeling. i have people that tell me what i can say and how i can say it. i have people that only want to say their side. i have people that laugh at my side.

why did this all come up? well: two reasons. there are a few parts of my life that i can feel reaching that boiling point again. and i’m TERRIFIED of when that will happen. if i can’t find another way to deal with it…i’m scared of losing people. also: i know that i never learned the right way which means i won’t be able to teach the right way. my kids are getting old enough and we’re starting to have different opinions and voices at my house- i need to learn SOON so i can show the HEALTHY and GOOD way to work through things. i don’t want them to go through life with this feeling of having no voice or being scared to say what they feel/think. i want them to know they can come to me and it might get ugly depending on the topic, but we WILL find an answer, and we WILL make it out the other side TOGETHER.

~sigh~

i’m done now. anyone wanna fight?

fear:

so. i will admit to fear. i'm afraid of some normal things like snakes and extreme heights. i'm also scared of odd things like having my curtains open at night (you never know when you're going to look out and see a serial killer with a hook hand) or having my house burn down at night and the smoke detectors not going off (i used to lay awake at night staring at the smoke detectors making sure the red light flashed every few minutes).

i'm afraid of something happening to my kids. i'm afraid of something happening to my family. i'm afraid of many things.

i've also overcome many fears: i've had to walk through fire at times to be able to support my kids. i've had to pack up and move on ZERO planning. i've been able to make ends meet even when it seemed impossible. i've been through hurt. i've been through betrayal. i've been through abuse. i've been through heartbreak. i've lost friends and family. i've been through things that break some people. i've walked through those fires and come out the other side.

this weekend i admitted to a new fear. one i didn't know i had. actually, i don't know if it's new, or simply one i've been afraid to admit to before now (you know it's bad when your afraid to say what you're afraid of). but one thing i've learned in life is that you can't over come your fears until you call them by name, make them step out of the shadows, and face them head on. i've been afraid of depression: and i've learned to call it what it is, say when it's attacking, and learned how to battle it. so. here i go again: i'm calling out this fear: i'm naming it. hopefully i can find a way to over come it:

i'm afraid of what will happen if i become a better me. now hold on...follow me on this one: i'm afraid of what would happen if i get rid of all my excuses. if i mellow my quirks, lose my chubby bunny weight, learn patience, acceptance. i'm scared of what will happen if i break down the walls i've spent so long putting up. there's a bit of a catch: i'm already a damn good me. i love me. i'm a strong, intelligent, amazing person. i would be a damn good catch for some lucky guy just as i am. but i know there's room for improvement: i know there are things about me i can make better. but there's a fear that goes along with that. you see, right now i KNOW why i'm not "datable": it's me. it's things about me that keep guys away. i haven't let anyone any close enough to let it be someone else. it's always my fault why things don't work out. it's because i'm too quirky/picky. i'm too much of a bitch. i won't let someone get close enough to care about. i'm too chubby for them. i'm not neat enough for them. i have a dark sense of humor. i'm too sarcastic. it's all things about ME. only me.

in one of my last posts i vomited about how i really don't believe there's anyone out there willing to take on a single mom with two high needs kids. and the complete honest truth is that i'm scared to find out FOR SURE. i've had people say it. i've had SEVERAL people say it. but i'm scared to really test their words. right now i can hide behind my bitchiness and my weight. i can blame being single on myself. it's all ME. i'm too chubby to be datable. i'm too honest. i'm a bitch. i'm too quirky. it's all me. i'm scared that if i "fix" myself then it will be something else. something i can't fix. and i can't face that.

it doesn't matter how much weight i lose, or how pollyanna i become: weight loss won't fix aspergers. being the nicest person on earth won't make dealing with one of the smartest kids i know any easier. what happens if i fix me and things still don't work out? what if the simple truth is that no one wants to take on high needs kids? i don't want that to be the reason. i CAN'T LET that be the reason. it's ok when it's me. it's not ok if it's them. i am the way i am because I CHOOSE TO BE. i can change me. they can't. they didn't ask to be the way they are. and they don't deserve to be blamed or an excuse or anything. they're perfect and wonderful kids, and i don't want anyone to see them as anything other than that.

i was told i need to work on my first impression. does that even matter? does it matter how smooth and polished and amazing my first impression is if they won't stick around after that? I WANT TO BE THE REASON. i have to be the reason. that's all there is to it. i don't think i can walk through this fear. i don't see how. but then again...i rarely see how until i'm looking back at the trail that was blazed.

light bulbs

well. once again i’ve run out of time to do much more than brain vomit and hope it makes some kind of sense. tax return should be deposited soon…then maybe i can actually buy a computer for my house…then i’ll have all sorts of time!

ANYWAY. not enough time for babble. i wanted to vomit out a few big break thrus i’ve had the last few days…pretty big ones really…here we go:

my brother called on wednesday to see about stopping by this weekend on their way through town. he asked if he could take my boys to lunch with my mum and stepdad who will be in town later in the day to see them. my answer, of course, was not only no, but HELL NO. my thought was: when hell freezes over AND the devil is crowned prom queen of a south texas high school AND the jersey shore show on mtv is shown to increase the intelligence of viewers THEN they can go. but since my brother is easily offended, i kept it at NO. and he, of course, questioned me several times which not only frustrated me beyond all reason, but also made me question myself and the decision, AND made me feel the family rift once again. it hurt. so much. i made my decision when it all first came to light. i will not waiver. it is for the protection of my children. i will never compromise their protection. and he questioned: well, i’ll be there…can’t they go if i’m supervising? NO. which part of NO is so fucking hard to understand? and it didn’t occur to me later, but i should have asked him: what if i went to airway heights and had a sex offender paroled for the day…just for lunch? would you let me take YOUR kids to lunch with him? i’d be there supervising…of course. i’m guessing his answer would be no also. doesn’t he get that it’s the same situation? it IS the exact same situation minus the jail time. I WILL NOT LET MY CHILDREN BE AROUND AN ABUSER. period. done. quit asking me to.

also in the past he’s mentioned: “but the kids seem fine around him…they don’t act scared at all.” this question really bothered me. i wondered at times if i was wrong, if i was going over kill…until last night when it clicked: I’M GLAD THEY’RE NOT SCARED. that mean i caught the problems while it was still in the grooming stage before any actual scarring abuse happened. I’M GLAD THERE’S NOTHING TO BE AFRAID OF (for them). i would rather know they’re protected and safe and it was caught early before any permanent damage was done than to look back later and wonder why i didn’t hold my ground. my little spawn was young. he didn’t know what he was saying or why it was bad. BUT I DID. i knew what it meant and where it was headed. i have no questions to this day that all the signs were there and he would have been hurt. i have no question he was being groomed for abuse. i was able to pull him away from the flame before he got burned. AND I’M GLAD. no i won’t risk letting them near enough for it to happen again. are you fucking crazy?

but at the same time, it hurts because it’s driving a wedge in my family. and it kills me. i just lost my brother. i’ve lost my mom in a different way. my older brother and my dad are all i have left. and i’m losing that brother too. i’m losing what little family i have. and i’m just getting to know my dad. so it feels like i have no family at all. and it’s killing me. it hurts so much. and i don’t have an answer for this one yet, but at least i understand why i dread my brother’s calls. i know there will be a problem. i know the wedge is getting bigger and bigger. i know there’s nothing i can do, besides compromising my kids, to make it go away. and it’s seriously killing me. this week went to shit wednesday after his call, and i’m still trying to pull it back together. i HATE this feeling. i hate being alone. and now i’m beyond alone. no partner OR family. there’s this HUGE GAPING HOLE in me and i can’t fix it.

and people wonder why i’m depressed.

i am not afraid

i'm still afraid. that's not entirely true. i'm still terrified. to the point of shaking and feeling sick to my stomach when i think about it. to the point where it derails my day, i become focused and my already high-gear mind goes into super overdrive. i instantly want to hide, to cry. i feel instantly defenseless, weak, stupid, small, insignificant. it's been five years. FIVE YEARS and i still feel this way. after not even two years. it took me about 2 hours to decide to send an email today, and then when a response came in i was instantly sick and almost started crying.

who is this person? who is this weak, scared girl? where is the super woman that isn't afraid of anyone? where's the person that chews out teachers when they insult my kids? where's the woman that calls people on their crap and doesn't take shit from anyone? where is the super mom that can handle anything on any day (as long as there's mascara and chapstick in the utility belt)? where is the woman that doesn't walk anywhere...she struts...hell, POWER STRUTS.

for the people that say domestic violence is only the type that leaves physical bruises...BULLSHIT. there are things worse than bruises. way worse. fuck...i would rather deal with a bruise any day of the week than this.

i suppose an explanation would be helpful about now: child support stopped coming in a few weeks ago for smaller child. this means that ex has either a) moved again, b) lost his job, or c) both. myspace has been great for tracking him in the past...it's how i found out he moved to arizona last year, and found out where he was working and was able to get support started again after the same thing happened last august. well, myspace isn't giving up any information this go round...EXCEPT for the new "whole family" picture he posted with new wife and new kids. i was about 10% offended for my son that he isn't part of "the whole family" but 90% relieved that he isn't part of that "whole family" and is 100% a part of my whole family instead. so, in search of more information, i checked to see if he had a facebook page started, and sure enough he does...and he's listed as living in spokane now. it seriously took me several hours to decide to email him because that means he can find me (yes, i know he could have found me anyway, but i don't like to think of that). and i'm still so terrified of him...i'm terrified of what his response will be. i'm terrified that he'll want to see my son (which would be the most horrible thing ever). i'm terrified that he'll start yelling and screaming at me again reducing me to the sad, ever apologizing, half of a person that i was 5 years ago when i was married. and the sad, defenseless person i was two years ago when i had to face him in court for a child support revision. i'm still terrified of him.

and i'm still terrified of who i was when i was with him. and i'm terrified of becoming that person again with anyone else...which is the main reason why there hasn't been anyone else. i don't get close to people. i try like hell not to care about or get attached to people (guys) because in my twisted mind they're all like him. and in my twisted mind if they're all like him, then i'll become like her again. that sad girl who was afraid to use the phone. the girl who wouldn't leave the house without makeup because he would be mad. the girl who could only wear certain clothes or talk to certain people. the girl who was scared to make dinner because if he didn't like it there would be hell to pay (and a never touched tater tot casserole in the fridge for a month). i don't want to be the girl who won't eat pineapple again. the girl who waited by the phone all night because if i missed any of his calls from work i would be in trouble. i don't want to be the girl that spent $30,000 on things to try to keep him happy and only realized too late that there would never ever be enough things to accomplish that.

five years and i still haven't figured out how NOT to be terrified. i've moved on for the most part. i'm back to who i was before any of that happened. i'm a strong, independent, successful, amazing person...until i have to deal with the past. a huge part of me wants to just say FUCK YOU ASSHOLE, knock his lights out and be over it. maybe that's it. maybe i've never had a chance to show him the strong person i am and let him know he can't bully me any more...mostly because any time i have to be near him i panic (ok...that's not fair...the only time i've seen him was in court which was stressful and panic inducing, not necessarily because of him...). maybe that's it. i know i'm not that person any more. and i can't be that person ever again. and i just have to be me. all the time. he can't hurt me ever again. he can't hurt my family. i can't be scared of him. there's nothing to be scared of. he's just a sad bully. he has to make other people feel weak and small because he knows he's weak and small.

i will not be afraid. i will not be bullied. i am not scared. FUCK YOU ASSHOLE.