steadfast

i've spent my whole life hating myself.

there's these horrible, destructive voices stuck in my head that are so loud it's hard to hear anything else.

i've taken on blame and hate and negativity from other people for SO LONG, that it just...it became who i was. i believed them. in my journals, as far back as you look, there's been the common theme: "what's wrong with me?" and "why am i so broken?" i believed i deserved to be treated terribly. OF COURSE i was sexually assaulted as a teenager. OF COURSE i was raped as an adult. OF COURSE i was in a domestic violence marriage. OF COURSE i can't find a relationship. i deserved it all. i'm this horrible piece of trash, broken person. i was born a mistake and deserve every terrible thing since then.

BUT. HERE'S THE THING: THAT'S NOT TRUE.

i'm not a horrible person. i'm not a piece of trash. i'm not broken.

i AM a little weird. i'll own that one.

it's taken YEARS, to start to shift that conversation in my mind and stop listening to those voices. i'm still working on it EVERY. SINGLE. DAY. 

it's fucking hard work. really, really hard work.

but here's the bitch of it all: because i've thought of myself that way for so long, because i've believed the crap, because i believed all the HORRIBLE things, i kept allowing new people to treat me that way. why wouldn't they? and i've learned to distrust people that DON'T treat me that way. if anyone actually liked me, treated me kindly, maybe even loved me...there must be something wrong with them.

here's the really big bitch of all that: because i thought about myself that way, i let my kids think about me that way. I TAUGHT THEM to think of me that way. it's ok to make fun of mom being single. it's ok to say horrible things about mom. it's ok to yell insults and abuse. other people do, and she doesn't stop them. it's ok to just walk all over her, she won't stand up against it.

I TAUGHT MY KIDS TO HATE ME.

because i hated myself for so long.

that's a hard fucking pill to swallow.

and i'm not saying this out of self pity. i'm not saying this as yet another way to hate and blame myself. i'm saying this because if you want to change where you are, you have to acknowledge how you got there.

and i want to change. i NEED to change. 

especially when i'm staring at the results of all the hate every. single. day.

last year when i quit my job i started working on myself.

i left that job because i was tired of listening to people talk trash about me. i was tired of being groped while i sat at my desk. i was tired of listening to people openly bash everything about me: single parents, LGBT, tattoos, educated, nothing was off limits.

i started realizing i'm worth something. i'm worth standing up for. i'm worth liking.

in a strange way, i realized how insulting it was to people that i love and trust that i INSISTED on hating myself. how little do i think of my friends? do i really think they would keep a piece of trash friend around? a few of them even said as much to me: "it's really insulting that you believe i have such poor taste in people."

yes, i know that's a backwards way of looking at things, but hey, it got my attention.

and so i started changing. i started working on it. i started allowing myself a little more space to be MYSELF. to LIKE myself. i started just BEING. and, oddly, no one really seemed to care. they didn't leave in droves. i wasn't burned at the stake. if anything, the more real i allow myself to be with other people, the more real they become with me, and the deeper and truer the connections.

it's pretty sad that it took me 38 years to really, truly grasp this concept. BUT I'M WORKING ON IT. i've tried over the years. i've flirted with the idea of changing my mindset. i've worked on it over and over. i've taken classes, i've read countless books, i've tried so many different things. but when you're just dealing with symptoms instead of getting to the CORE of the issue, it never sticks.

here's the core: I'M A GOOD PERSON. i finally believe that.

i like me. i help others as much as i can. i will do everything in my power to help a friend that asks. i want to leave this world a better place than i came into it. i'm self aware. i'm intelligent. i'm thoughtful. i'm learning to ask for help. i have a decent sense of humor, maybe a little dark at times, but there it is. i have a lovely, comfortable home that's open to anyone. i've always been able to make home wherever we were. i'm a hard worker. i'm a good employee. i'm good at my jobs. i'm analytical and thorough. i'm willing to admit when i'm wrong and always looking for ways to be better. i'm careful and intentional about the choices i make. i'm dependable. i'm responsible. i'm honest, maybe a little too much.

BUT.

that's all new. being able to write that paragraph AND BELIEVE IT is completely new to me.

it still feels like bragging. it still feels like pride. it still feels conceited and wrong.

and it's still hard to believe it all the time.

so.

as hard as it is for me to change and believe it...as a person that ACTIVELY, PASSIONATELY wants to believe it and change...

how much harder is it for a fifteen year old kid that just wants things to be the way they've always been?

i'm sure there's other things going on- hormones, self discovery, struggle to become an adult, friends, girls, school, peer pressure...all the teenage things.

but at the core, at the true core of this issue is a fifteen year old kid that learned hate. he learned abuse. he learned to be mean and insulting and bully and take what he wants. I TAUGHT HIM THAT. and now i'm trying to change it and he has no stake or interest in that change.

so it's HARD.

suddenly mom isn't a push over any more.

no one wants to hear no. especially a teenager.

he's been saying for months: "i just want things back the way they were," and "it's so toxic around here and i hate it."

he doesn't realize the toxic atmosphere is because i've stopped absorbing all the toxicity. i've stopped taking on all the insults and the hate, so they just....hang there. they've run into a wall of: YOU CAN'T TALK TO ME THAT WAY.

that's new. that's different. so. YEAH, it feels crappy around the house when what always worked doesn't work anymore.

and then you have to try something bigger.

oh, just being mean and saying horrible things doesn't work anymore. let's try getting in her face and pushing. ok. that didn't work. let's try threats. oh, that didn't work, let's try skipping school. oh, that didn't work, let's try self harm and accusations. oh, that didn't work, let's try drugs and alcohol. that didn't work. let's try calling the cops...

and on and on it's gone. the escalation just keeps jumping and jumping because he's not getting his way. i'm not giving in. i'm not letting him walk all over me any more. and it's turned into a MASSIVE crisis. it's ugly and hard and scary and i don't know what's going to happen. i don't know where he slept last night. i don't know if he's safe or has clean underwear. i don't know if he's scared or hurt.

but i DO know he's still angry. i DO know he still thinks he can bully everyone into getting his way.

he thinks he can snap his fingers and the police will do as he commands. he thinks he can lie and get away with things. he thinks he can push around commissioners, lawyers, teachers, counselors. he thinks he can do what he wants, all day, every day, with no consequences. if anyone stands up to him, he will hurl all the abuse and hate at them he can. he will threaten others and even himself.

but if you want to live in my house, you need to treat people with respect. you need to contribute to the house. you need to contribute to your future. go to school. come home at the end of the day. be respectful of friends, ESPECIALLY GIRLS. don't steal. don't lie. don't threaten.

DON'T ABUSE.

i'm standing up and saying _I_ don't deserve to be treated this way. NO ONE does. and that's a fucking HARD, HARD change.

but it's necessary.

a friend just posted an article about a man that killed his wife and then took his own life just days after being arrested for assaulting a female taxi driver.

he thought he could just take what he wanted. when someone stood up to him, when someone called him on his terrible behavior, it escalated.

i don't know the full story, i didn't live his life. but i can bet that this wasn't the first time he treated someone this way. i can bet that if he was bold enough to treat a perfect stranger the way he did, his wife was getting 100 times worse at home. i can bet that there's a LIST of people that saw his behavior. i can bet that there's old girlfriends that aren't shocked by this news.

because i've been there.

i'm there now.

it has to change.

 

since this all started with the teenager, several months ago, there's been one word that comes to mind over and over and over and over: steadfast.

it's a calm word. it's a fierce word. determined. strong.



it's not an active word. i'm not flying into battle. i'm not raging.

i'm standing my ground. calmly. patiently.

i'm saying THIS NEEDS TO CHANGE.

i'm saying THIS IS NO LONGER THE WAY IT WILL BE.

i have to stand my ground.

i have to teach my son.

i have to teach him that he can't bully and hate his way into what he wants. i have to teach him behaviors and actions have consequences. if i let him treat me this way, the cycle will continue. there will be another person out there thinking about themselves the way i've been thinking about myself, and i wouldn't wish that on ANYONE. my heart breaks at the idea of another young woman facing YEARS of thinking she deserves to be treated this way. i know the dark, destructive, terrible self hate. i know it well. i don't want anyone else to feel this. ever. it absolutely guts me to think of him being mean and hurtful to a partner, a spouse, maybe his own children in the future. it crushes me to think he'll treat a boss, a roommate, a coworker the way he's been treating people now. i hate seeing how hard it is on his friends, his grandparents, all the people trying to help him now.

I HAVE TO BREAK THE CYCLE.

i have to.

i can't let this continue for generations to come.

I HAVE TO STOP THE HATE.

i have to.

i didn't teach him hate in a day.

it may take a long time to teach him a new way.

but i am to the task.

i will break this cycle. i will stop the hate. i will stop the hurt. i will teach him a better way.

long story short

it's been a rough several months at home.
back in May things started getting difficult with my 15 year old son.

it hasn't improved.

lying, stealing, running away, draining $2k from a bank account, picking fights, skipping school, confrontations with teachers and police officers, court hearing, contempt of court hearing, suicide threats, drug use, alcohol use, tobacco use, abuse accusations, verbal and emotional attacks, self-harm to attempt to seek placement outside the house...the list grows almost daily.

the police have been to our home countless times. i have been investigated by the courts, CPS, questioned by police, commissioners, advocates, counselors.

we are utilizing the juvenile court systems, court appointed counseling programs, community resources, school resources, friends, family.

i have knocked on every door and called every phone number provided.

things are bad.

things are really bad.

on october 19th i removed my son from the house for both of our safety. he's staying with relatives while i try to figure out what comes next.

it's been an adjustment. the learning curve is HUGE. there's so many parts and pieces and contributing factors. there's work and cooperation necessary for improvement that don't seem like they'll happen any time soon.

i'm lost. i'm bewildered. i'm sad. i'm worried. i'm grieving. i'm...i'm a hot mess express most days. my apartment has been stress cleaned *almost* to white glove inspection standards.

BUT.

silver lining, i guess, if that's a thing: i'm learning a LOT about myself through this process. i'm learning how to stand up for myself. i'm setting personal boundaries and sticking to them. i'm learning to listen. i'm learning to give trust and to ask for trust. i'm learning that if you ask for help, there's people ready and waiting who WANT to help. i'm learning to utilize people with better resources and experience. i'm learning to stay calm, be steadfast. i'm learning not to take things personally, even when they're meant to be EXTREMELY, intentionally, targeted personal attacks. i'm growing and opening up. finally. now that i'm almost 40 i'm learning some really basic stuff. I'M NOT SHAMING MYSELF. i'm acknowledging that, while behind the times, i'm finally catching up. i'm finally dealing with some really, really old trauma that still has claws. i'm learning to set aside old useless weights, change my thinking, my inner monologue. i'm learning to be kind to myself and maybe even like myself a little.

growth and change is never easy or fun. it's messy and usually painful. it's like cleaning out my house: it gets worse before it gets better, it's easy to get overwhelmed by how much there is to do, but in the end, it's worth the work.

flashback

on december 13, 2003 i loaded up a uhaul truck and moved into apartment 13.

it was the first step in leaving a domestic violence marriage. 

it's been a lot of years and work and recovery since then.

remembering that i'm not required to wear make up to leave the house.

remembering that i'm not a piece of trash if i carry/wear my purse in a grocery store instead of putting it in the cart.

knowing that i'm not a stuck up whore for being proud that i graduated from college.

not being ashamed for having sexual desires.

not always being afraid of saying the wrong thing.

not trying to keep everything as perfect and smooth as possible because anything less would cause trouble.

not being on edge every time the phone rings and panicking if you don't answer fast enough because accusations will follow.

i've learned that i can talk about things that bother me in a relationship with out being berated and verbally descimated.

i've learned that i can stand up for myself without being threatened.

i was lucky in some ways. i was never hit. i was never put in the hospital. i never had to hide bruises or marks.

in other ways...bruises heal faster than the words in your head go away.

it's been nearly 15 years.

i've worked so hard to not let fear be my first instinct when things go wrong.

i've worked so hard to unlearn the words. to unlearn the reactions. to unlearn the cycle.

i've worked so hard to break the cycle. to not let myself get caught in it again.

i've stopped texting guys because the language and the tone was too familiar. i've broken off relationships because i heard phrases that triggered me. i've refused to shack up with anyone over the years to keep my family safe and keep my boys away from that lifestyle.

i didn't want them to learn abuse.

and yet, here we are.

things have been bad lately. they've actually been bad for a while. they've been really bad for the last few months.

i have a court appointment in the morning with juvenile court to try to get help for my son before things completely get out of control.

there's been lying, stealing, drug abuse, alcohol.

there's been run away reports and more calls to the local police department than i ever thought i'd have to make.

there's been threats, accusations, demands and verbal abuse.

at the lowest point, so far, my own son screamed at me as he was leaving that he was going to try to intentionally overdose that night as a final fuck you to me.

and then, a few days later, things are seemingly back to normal.

he came home, we went back to school shopping, did chores around the house, we even went to the theaters and watched a movie together.

but it's not normal.

and i know this feeling. it's been 15 years since i've felt this feeling, but i knew it instantly, intimately.

things are not normal. there is a storm back building. i'm not walking on egg shells, i'm walking on a field of land mines littered with razor blades and broken glass.

i know this part of the cycle.

it's the hardest part for me.

it's where the questioning comes in.

you're making too big of a deal of things. look how "normal" it is right now.

you're just being too sensitive.

you're reading into things too much.

they didn't really mean it, they were just mad.

you're just borrowing trouble.

you're going to make another blow up happen by expecting it.

you're just making things worse.

if you weren't so crazy this wouldn't be a problem.

why can't you just learn to not be so offended and stop taking everything so seriously?

it's scary how quickly the feelings take root. right back to where i was.

but how did my son learn this? he was 9 months old when we left.

is nature winning over nurture?

can i still correct this behavior?

i can't correct anything. can i show him a better way and help give him tools to make better choices?

i remember this feeling.

knowing that things aren't fine but not being able to put words to it so other people can understand.

you can feel the pressure of the storm coming but there's not a cloud in the sky.

it's looking at the calendar and trying to guess when/what will cause the next blow up.

is there a holiday coming up? an appointment? plans with people that you know will trigger resistance? things that need money? things that...

you try to become a fortune teller and a bomb diffusion expert at the same time.

i know we have court tomorrow. so maybe if i do this tonight...

maybe if...

what about...

you try to plan for all the contingencies. you try to prepare yourself. steel up your nerves and your resolve. try to stay calm even though all you want to do is throw up and cry and hide in a corner.

i have experience in my corner this time. i have survival. i have age and hard earned wisdom. i have friends. i have help.

i never expected myself to be here again.

and this time is different. this time i can't leave. this time i can't get a uhaul and a new apartment.

this time there is more at stake. this is my kid. this is his whole life ahead of him. this is every future relationship with a partner, with a boss, with a roommate. this is how he learns to interact with people for the rest of his life.

this is a hard battle. this is a continuing, learning, changing, shifting battle.

i'm terrified. i'm hurt. i'm worried.

but i'm not 23 this time. i have a lot of hard learned lessons under my belt. i'm stronger.

i can do this. there is no other option.

this is my kid.

i'll never quit fighting for him.

a short (hopefully) rant

it's been a rough few weeks with the teenager.

really rough.

out of desperation i decided to look for single parent support groups on facebook.

yeah.

it's been that bad.

i've already noticed a trend the last...LOT...of years- all the "parenting" content on the internet stops as soon as kids hit around 7-10.

like parents should have it all figured out by then and never need support again.

well, i'm a fucking hot mess and i STILL need support.

i dug through PLENTY of single parent groups on facebook and finally found one that sounded ok. i couldn't see much because it's a private group, but the description and the rules seemed like things would be pretty dialed in...so i requested to join.

then 5 minutes later i left the group.

"i've been single for 2 months, can i start dating again?"

"husband left a week ago..."

"my 3 week old..."


*maybe* 3 posts scrolling WAY back about teenagers...one her daughter was distraught at getting less than an A on a test, one was celebrating how well her teenager was doing after graduation, and ONE had issues about their 19 year old who had just graduated having a hard time deciding if he wanted to live with mom or dad after high school.

and i don't discount those issues. each family has their own dynamic.

BUT.

am i a fucking unicorn?

where's the parents that have been single for twenty years?

where's the parents dealing with a teenager that just stole $100 worth of weed and will lie in the face of every. single. fact?

the mom struggling because she had to call the police when her teenager threatened physical harm for having a cell phone taken?

am i just a shitty parent?

does everyone else have it figured out by the time they've been a parent this long?

you think i'd know how to good cop AND bad cop by now, but NOPE. just one rabbid bad cop that INSISTS on being heard, which we all know teenagers are sooooooo good at doing.

just a bad cop that feels like she's having a stroke on the daily because the stress and tension waiting for the next fight no matter how hard she tries to avoid one.

and i can tell when i'm going crazy. i can tell when a rational person would tap out and just leave things alone...but holy. fuck. cheese. on. a. cracker. how do you walk away from "yeah, whatever" *door slam* without popping a gasket?

and that's just the parenting part.

the single part??

where's the other parents that can't date because their kid HATES everyone and makes life a living hell when anyone comes over?

where's the other parents who's kids are openly homophobic so dating same sex is COMPLETELY out of the question?

where's the other parents that just want some help but could NEVER, EVER imagine asking someone to be willing to share in the stress and chaos that is a teenager.

logically i know i can't be the only one.

but fuck, it sure feels that way.

when it was good, it was very very good

the last two days have been the kind you wait for and wish for more and, if you're smart, learn to appreciate for every. single. moment.

the weather has been absolutely perfect. the sun is shining during the day without scorching the earth, the warmth is holding well into the evenings. the teenager's attitude is coming back around, my attitude is coming back around, in this moment, in this breath, everything is good. and i love that i've learned to recognize and appreciate these moments.

yesterday the teenager and i sat down together and planned out the week. today we followed through on those plans- we did the grocery shopping, made dinner, sat down and ate together while we talked about school then afterwards he helped pick up without being asked, and *gasp* took out the trash without being asked.

i know we've gone back and forth, and we'll keep going back and forth. there's a learning curve to being 14. good lord- when i look back at my freshman year...how did any of us survive?

but he's a good kid. he has a good heart and he's starting to figure things out. we were able to talk about the football protests last night. he wanted to know what the big deal was so i explained from as many sides as i could- how some military feel, how some players feel, how some politicians feel, why it matters to so many people, why it matters to fans, players.

it's a lot to think about and there is no one right answer. it's important to not only have your opinion but be able to hear and understand other opinions. more than the issues at hand, that's what i want him to learn. the ability to see and understand both sides is an invaluable asset. ambidexterity of thought. to know what you believe and stand for, you have to know what else is out there. snap judgements are east. informed decisions are where the work comes in.

but, circling back around, it's been a good few days.

and the best part? i don't feel like i'm waiting for a shoe to drop. i feel like i'm starting a trend for us. and that's a BIG difference.

when you're counting the winning streak instead of waiting for the loss, it's a nice shift in perspective.

things are good. in this moment, in this breath, things are good.

third time's the charm

well, here it is almost february and i'm still trying to recover from the holidays.

i've been in hiding since november-ish and after recently peeking my head out a bit i'm starting to think long term hiding has some serious perks.

the election, of course, was...well...a shit show. i made the choice to step away from several of my core groups as a result. i'm not a political person. i am not nearly educated enough to know the nitty gritty of the actual policies and practices, and i'm not nearly hard line enough one side or the other to be completely unsettled by the results. as the election and the results have continued (and will for some time) to be the primary focus for the world at large, from both directions, i will be hiding in my corner trying to understand the best i can and rewatching old seasons of friends and roseanne and trying to sort out the inner workings of my personal bubble.

but one event alone was not enough to derail the trainwreck of the holiday season. good old fashioned family shit decided to add to the merriment, as is usual for the holidays.

it's been a hard few months. a really hard few months. there's been a hard learning curve, some pretty heavy introspection, and, as a result, some major life changes are happening.

a brief overview: 13 year olds are very impressionable and not equipped with the best communication tools, 18 year olds are angry and use every tool at their disposal to wreak as much havoc and pain as possible, and 60+ year olds are delusional, destructive, and need to just disappear already.

BUT, even in the worst of times, there's an opportunity to learn and grow. and i'm trying. i know it sounds cliche, but damn, weed makes you have some deep thoughts.

i've been attending meditation classes since...i think around september, working through a book learning how to have better compassion for myself and others. between some great strains of 420, some good meditation/teaching, and actually allowing myself (forcing myself) to look at things instead of just stuffing them down inside to stay in survivor mode there's been some really key things that have opened up for me:

teen parenting SUCKS. i did it. i survived. but DAAAAAMN. all the things they prepare you for: being broke, being a statistic, higher probability of minimum wage jobs, higher probability of being on government assistance, higher probability of...fill in the blank. they give you all the statistics. they tell you how hard it will be. they prepare you for dealing with a crying baby and a toddler.

what they DON'T tell you is how to learn how to make mistakes with someone ALWAYS watching. i didn't get my 20's to screw up financially and figure out how to bail myself out without it affecting anyone. if i screwed up financially (which i did, repeatedly) it affected 2 other people. if i miscalculated my checkbook ledger i had to worry about feeding 2 other people until it could get straightened out. if i wanted a night out, i had to budget how it would affect daycare and buying shoes. my kids have had to hear "we can't afford..." more times than any kid should. they've been with me in grocery stores and restaurants when my card didn't go through. they've learned to check your balance before you grocery shop. granted, not all BAD lessons, but not something that kids need to be worrying about.

i didn't get the crappy roommate time in college to learn how to live with someone. i didn't get the wandering from job to job time. i didn't get the crappy relationships, watching friends settle down, wedding season chaos, ANY of the crap you've seen a million times in a million different sitcoms. i had to consider the repercussions of everything. I had to watch for the ripple effect. i made PLENTY of 20-something mistakes. PLENTY of them. but, for me, they weren't just mistakes. they were memories for my kids. they were moments emblazoned into little minds and cemented as mistakes and flaws. my oldest son has a devastatingly low opinion of me, i think partly because he remembers it ALL. he remembers my marriage and divorce. he remembers moving all the time. he remembers all my mistakes and hates me for them. and i know part of that will assuage with time as he grows and makes his own mistakes, but for right now they're weapons. sharp, heavy, devastating weapons.

the hardest part for me is that i'm still making mistakes. i'm still learning. i'm still trying like fuck to figure out this parenting thing. but i don't have anyone to look to for how they did it. i don't have anyone to ask how they handled situations. i don't have parents or grandparents or friends with older kids. the friends i have with similar aged kids are in the same boat trying to figure things out too. and i know there aren't "ANSWERS" to parenting. but there's people that have been through it before. there's people that remember better what it was like for them (i've blocked out probably 75% of my childhood).

and in my learning, and in my mistakes, i'm doing what i can to correct what's happened and prevent what i can going forward.

one of the biggest things that came out of the disaster that was this holiday season was some GREAT (hard) conversations with my 13 year old. we've come up with several things that need worked on. we're learning better ways to talk to each other and be heard. we're working on sorting through actual memories vs things people have told him/are telling him.

one of the biggest things that came out of this is that he doesn't feel safe in our home. there was a litany of reasons, some reasonable, some irrational, but at the end of the day, he doesn't feel safe and that is a HUGE concern. part of it is basic neurosis (which he gets 100% from me): worrying about if there's a fire- there's only one way out: down the stairs. it's like he crawled inside my mind (or maybe i said something once that he heard and hung onto). one of the few things i DO remember from my childhood is laying in bed at night counting the time between the blinks on the smoke detectors. i used to count the flashes and plan over and over and over what i would do if there were a fire, what i would grab, how i would get out. this is, to this day, the reason i will never, ever, no matter what, sleep naked. i am 100% convinced that the ONE TIME i sleep naked the house will burn and i'll be in the streets naked AND homeless. i still lay awake at night and think of how much time i would have to wake up the teenager, how many things i could grab, what's important enough or not to risk grabbing, and how to get outside.

let's not even go into how much of a living nightmare it was to have my dad die in a house fire.

so, i get it. i worry about if someone breaks into the house how would we get away, how would i stop them and protect the kiddo. i worry about...fuck...you name it, i've worried about it.

so, I GET IT. and i thought it was just me. and i can deal with things when it's just me. but when it's my kid? game changer.

so, he finally tells me he feels unsafe in out house.

game changer.

so. time to find a solution: we're selling the house and finding a better, safer feeling place to live.

we've picked out a VERY nice apartment in the valley- closer to work for me, better high school for the kid, all the amenities that you could want, and SAFER. one floor, better exits, better security, newer construction...the list goes on.

we list the house in a week, the last month has been a process of cleaning/purging/repairing/getting ready.

third time's the charm, right?

and, for those playing along at home, yes, i've attempted this before and failed MISERABLY. i've taken that into heavy consideration, and, with the great help of some good 420 and a few quiet evening, have figured out a few things: last time we weren't ready. we didn't have a reason. we didn't have a plan. i didn't get the idea that i don't need to be friends with the realtor, it's a professional relationship. i wanted an ally, someone that was on my side. sure, that would be GREAT, but this is their JOB. this isn't coffee time with a BFF, this is a business transaction. also, they don't need to like my house AS IT IS. sure, it's hard when people look around and criticize paint colors, when they tell me my taste is too eclectic (weird) to sell the house, when they nitpick all the flaws that trust, i'm WELL aware of. they're job is to make it as appealing to as many people as possible. whomever buys it isn't going to live with me. they're not going to keep the same decor. they're not going to get why i think a shower curtain works in a livingroom. and it doesn't matter.

i don't know if the realtor didn't explain it well to me before or if i just didn't listen, but I GET IT NOW. i'm not showing MY house to people, i'm showing A house to people. yeah, a few things up on the walls to make it feel like a HOME are nice, all my knick-knacks and clutter? not so much.

also? this is probably the first time i've really had the time to fully consider a move. we're not moving because we HAVE to. any deadlines are completely mine. i don't have a landlord going into default kicking me out. i don't have a lease expiring, i don't have any of the reasons that we've moved before.

this time WE CHOOSE. we were able to take time, decide what we want in a new place, research, and really, really be picky. i didn't have to take the first thing i found in our price range and make it work. i didn't have to find the only thing affordable in a college town on a single budget. i didn't have to settle in any way. and i'll tell you what, really getting to pick, with no limits on it? WHOLE DIFFERENT EXPERIENCE. also? apartments now are WAY nicer than the last time we looked. the new concept of "communities" is actually really amazing. common spaces, shared gardens, places you can have guests over, allowing painting and decorating and making it your own home...things have really changed. it's pretty amazing.

this is also the first time we haven't been just shoving things in boxes. i'm taking my time really thinning out, deciding what goes and what goes away. i know the floor plan of the new place, the measurements, so i'm able to decorate in my brain and know what will fit and what will make clutter. i'm able to go through cabinets, get rid of things we haven't touched since we moved into this house. i'm able to catalog (dude, there's some AMAZING smart phone apps for cataloging movies and books- do it, even if you're not moving!).

we have been in control of this move from the very first minute. that's a whole new experience for me. deciding IF we wanted to move, picking out where, picking out when...it's been really healthy and therapeutic in so many ways.

i realized the other night that i never really took buying the house and moving seriously before. to me, buying a house was exactly the same as renting an apartment. i looked around, found one that would work that we could afford, signed a few papers, and moved in. i didn't have to do the mortgage, the inspections, the closing issues. i just handed over a check and they handed me keys. that was literally it. and as i've said before, i didn't go into buying a house for the right reasons. i bought it because i was "supposed" to. this time i'm doing the process because we WANT to. that's a whole different ball of wax.

i feel prepared this time. i know this is for sure. this is happening. this is intentional, thought out, planned.

it's a big change. something good is coming out of a LOT of bad. i'm kind of getting to hit the reset button on losing my dad. and i am eternally grateful for the opportunity. i'm getting the chance to make better decisions with what his death entrusted to me. i have better tools for processing all the emotions and experiences. i have a little more distance from the initial ground zero, better perspective.

so.

here we go.

third time's the charm.

*pushing button*

just like me

I HOPE YOU HAVE A KID JUST LIKE YOU.

anyone else besides me hear that growing up?

i know i wasn't an easy child. there's probably a million and twelve reasons why i was the way i was but i think, for me, it mostly boiled down to never belonging- didn't belong at home, didn't belong to a group of friends, was LOUSY at sports (softball, volleyball, swimming). i wasn't hard core enough for the theater group and wasn't interested in science or math clubs. and, of course, the only thing i REALLY wanted, was to fit in.

it didn't help that i had a mom that didn't know what to do with me or how to talk to me. my first period was me sitting in the bathroom reading the instructions in the tampon box because you just don't talk about things like that. my sex ed talk was...ooops. too late. time to make an obgyn appointment.

my mom started sticking me in counseling somewhere around jr high because i guess it was easier to (have insurance) pay someone to talk to me than try to do it herself.

i HATED counselors. there was the one i refused to talk to because he wore a red plaid shirt and tucked his jeans into his cowboy boots (seriously- you want me to talk about stuff with THAT guy?). there was the SUPER religious lady that didn't talk to me but had me fill out worksheets and packets. there was the gal i *thought* was good until years later when i realized she didn't even know who i was or remember even the most basic things about me (like how i had a baby at 17 and ended up working with her, TRAVELLING TOGETHER, talking to teens about teen pregnancy, and she didn't remember me. awesome.)

my least favorite though was our church youth pastor. he's the one that decided i needed to "...confess my sins (pregnancy) before the whole youth group so they heard it from me instead of the gossip in the school hallways." GREAT. let me admit to getting knocked up to a group of kids who already don't like me. NOT SCARRING AT ALL.

i think my favorite interaction with him was when he asked me: "What do you plan on being when you grow up?" in all my teenage glory i stubbornly answered: "I'M NOT GOING TO GROW UP..." and while he laughed at me, i FINISHED my thought: "...BECAUSE IF GROWING UP MEANS BEING LIKE YOU AND MAKING FUN OF KIDS AND NOT HELPING THEM I WANT NO PART IN IT." and he quickly stopped laughing and shortly thereafter quit "counseling" me and quit being a youth pastor and moved to Iowa and became a computer technician (true story).

i know i wasn't an easy kid. i got kicked out of high school for 30 days my freshman year for "having a weapon on campus." i had been threatened multiple times, IN FRONT OF TEACHERS (thanks alice gintz), in front of other students and had tried telling my parents, but no one listened, and i wasn't going down without a fight. NOT A GREAT DECISION, but what else do you do when people are threatening to kill you every. single. day? the "weapon" was my brother's pocket knife- maybe a 1.5" blade that i had NO IDEA what to do with, just seemed like something was better than nothing. as a result of my spectacular decision, i was shoved into MORE counseling, missed a month of school, was STILL bullied when i got back, and had the additional fun of being called "slash" for the next 3 years.

my junior and senior year i tried out for cheer leading because, according to my brother, "...theater is so LAME. why don't you try doing something less embarrassing?"

well, as small towns go: cheerleaders date football players, and when you date a football player OF COURSE you have sex, and then 9 months later you wonder if freezing your ass off in a skirt that was way too short for three months was worth it because now you're even MORE embarrassing as the little sister that got knocked up.

i was not an easy child.

well, fast forward 17 years and i have a child just. like. me.

on counseling: "real men deal with their own issues and don't need help." it's no plaid shirt and cowboy boots, but maybe he's not as fashion sensitive as i am. although, coming from his pre-teen self, that is a little more along the lines of my spectacular "i'm not going to grow up" (which i still, to this day, stand by).

on first periods: he didn't talk to me about his either. wait...what? he DID talk to me about his first crush, his first kiss, and we used to be able to talk about everything. that's changed in the last few years though.

on making spectacular life altering decisions at 17: well. his decision won't result in poopy diapers, but it sure a full load of shit to deal with.

i have a bit more respect for my mom dealing with me through my teen years now. well, maybe not dealing with me, but for not kicking me out of the house or making things worse when i was challenging. to this day she's still more of an avoider than a dealer. i'm more of a dealer than an avoider. generational changes and whatnot. i put her through grief. there's no question about it. but she helped advocate for me to be able to finish high school, she helped with daycare while i went to the community college, and let me live at home the first 9 months until i was able to get my first apartment.

i have more respect for my son's paternal grandparents now. they watched their son, a junior, end up in a not great situation and stood by him as he struggled a little longer than i did to sort things out. they were patient and supportive of me while he took his time settling into responsibility and to this day are..well..some of the most amazing, big hearted, least judgmental people i know.

and while watching my son struggle to find his way and make hard decisions and make a mess of things is KILLING ME, i can look and see that people before me have made it through difficult teenagers. i can't fix this for him. i can't make it all go away. i made my decisions and had to figure shit out real quick. he'll have to do the same.

i was not an easy child. he comes by it rightly.

but i made it through. and he'll make it through. he is just like me after all. we don't give up easily. 

i never...

i never thought i'd be the parent that called the police on my own child.

i never thought i'd have bruises from my own child.

i never thought a lot of things.

i DID think a lot of things though too.

i thought raising a teenager would be hard. i didn't know it would tear me apart piece by piece.

i thought i knew how to handle grief and loss. now i realize i have no clue.

i thought i would always know what to do for my kids and how to help them.

now i realize how foolish that was.

i don't know. i don't know how to fix either of them. and at this point they both need so much.

there is so much damage to be undone.

there is so much hurt and anger for all of us to work through.

i'm having such a hard time with everything right now.

on days like saturday when a police officer is in the front yard talking to my son and another is in the house talking to me i just want the move to be over and done so we don't have to keep waking up to this toxicity. i'm tired of being on edge waiting for the next explosion.

then days like yesterday when everyone is getting along and things seem fine i question the whole decision.

then days like today when both boys can do nothing but argue over every. trivial. insignificant. inconsequential thing i just want to scream and leave them both and move to the middle of no where all on my own.

i feel so much guilt and anxiety right now.

i'm not being a good friend to anyone right now because i'm hiding and avoiding everyone. i know i'll be distracted until all the dust settles.

i also know i have ZERO patience right now for anyone else. the slightest things leave me itching for a brutal knock down drag out fight. i know i'm just transferring my anger and frustration onto (not completely) innocent bystanders. so i've been biting my tongue and hiding to avoid causalities of war.

i'm not being a good mom because i'm on edge and completely worn out (fast food ALL WEEK. disgusting.) the house is a mess. the sink is full of dishes. the laundry is stacking up. all i can do is sit and stare at nothing. i don't want to help with homework or tell jokes. i don't want to pack lunches. it's all i can do to get out of bed and make sure there's still a paycheck at the end of the week.

i'm not being anything besides this shell of what used to be me.

i knew it would be hard.

but i never knew it would be this hard.

the weekend is a day away and i'm terrified to have a repeat of the last one. weeks are fine between school and work and limited hours together. weekends are a different story.

and i have no idea what to do about monday- there's no school and i can't leave the boys home alone at all anymore. and i can't keep letting this distract me from work or there won't be a work to be distracted from.

amd i'm trying not to think about things i can't control.

i can't control what it will be like for my son on the other side of the state. he's going to live with a parent who doesn't know how to be a parent. i know they will make it work, but i'm worried about how hard it will be for them while it's falling in line.

i can't control that other people still maintain contact with my mother and her husband. i won't have any say over my son being exposed to (or protected from) a pedophile.

i can't control how they will get along or the challenges they'll face.

i can't control how my son will feel when he leaves and whether or not he'll ever want to talk to me after he leaves.

i can't control how much anger he's feeling and how much hate he has towards me.

i can't control losing my sidekick, the kid who has been through EVERYTHING with me. he graduated high school and college with me. he's moved every time i have. he's been through marriage and divorce with me. we've visited countless doctors and principals offices together.

i never thought my life would feel this hopeless but hopeful at the same time.