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. 

struggle

i know i haven't been posting much lately. i have a LIST of things to write about but i've been half lazy and half struggling with how much to write.

there's a BIG topic i want to talk about but i keep battling with how much is too much to throw out there- coming from me i'm sure that's a little strange to hear. it's more along an "airing dirty laundry" line than an embarrassing TMI line. half of me believes that there's healing in getting my side of the story out, and half of me doesn't want my hardest issue out on the web for anyone to run across.

i keep trying to think of a tactful way to cover the issue but the truth can't be half assed or sugar coated so i think i just need to moxy up and throw it out.

in the mean time there's a few random things to throw out there. i'll start kicking my own ass and making myself sit down to write more regularly- there's nothing on the DIY network that won't be aired again later (yes, i'm currently addicted to home improvement shows).

what say you? do you think there's anything that's too personal to share? i've always believed that if it can help one person then there's not...but on this one i'm really questioning that.

do i stick to my guns? share my story no matter how potentially uncomfortable it may make me? edit it? i'm lost on this one...

breaking up is hard to do

“A lot can be achieved by way of a little soul searching right now. There's some stuff going on with you on a level that's deeper than the everyday- perhaps regarding an important relationship- and it's definitely worth some thought. Meditating and writing in a journal might help you to get some free-form feelings down- then you can begin to apply your trademark powers of analysis. Clarity is right around the corner.”

so. that’s the horoscope for today. i know- i keep posting these horoscope things. i’m not a big believer in them, but it’s interesting to see how close they can be at times. that is to say, i don’t rule my life by them, i don’t check them every day or base decisions on them but every now and again when i log into yahoo i’ll check it and days like today it’s odd how close it matches up to what’s going on. not bad for some random computer spitting out some philosophical jargon and smashing it into a paragraph.

but. there is some stuff going on with me regarding an important relationship: there is no more boyfriend.

pretty important. especially considering how important it was that there even was one. things never really recovered from the fight. hell, they didn’t recover at all. i didn’t talk to him until friday afternoon when i texted him to see if he wanted to go pick up my new car with me. i got back “sure, but then we need to talk.” -sigh-

suffice to say: much discussion, most of it was my fault (some valid, some not), and that’s all there is, there is no more.

well, except for the part where i keep thinking about it. THINKING though. not heartbroken. not trying to patch it up. just thinking about it. replaying it all. looking at it from every angle. looking for my lessons. it’s what i do. analyze everything even beyond its’ natural death.

and i go back and forth. he was there when i needed him the most. that’s hard to let go. but there have also been issues and little arguments all the way along and those are really draining. not something i need right now. one of those- when it was good it was very very good, but when it was bad it was horrid things. there’s a time and a reason for everything. there’s a reason he found me all the way from iraq at the time he did. if it’s meant to, it will come back around again, but right now is not the right time for either of us. we both have a ton of learning and healing and work to do. he’s made me stronger in different ways, and i hope i’ve made him stronger too. he’s learning to be a grown man and make his own decisions and choices for himself, not what family or culture says he needs to do. that’s a gigantic shift for him. i can’t even imagine how terrifying but freeing that is all at the same time. and me- hell, i don’t know which direction is up right now. i need to get my feet back on the ground, take care of me and the spawns, make sure we’re all healthy and we come out of this stronger, and then MAYBE i can let someone back in. and who knows if that will be him or someone new. i don’t know. i just know that right now it wasn’t right. the fights over nothing. the fights over everything. the arguments, the misunderstandings. his belief of love is that you each give up a part of yourselves to become one. i disagree. i believe you add to each other to become one. i’ve fought too damn long and hard to build myself up. there’s not a piece of me i want to give away for someone else. i would love for someone to add to me, but i’m not giving up one damn part of myself ever again.

but i’ve been thinking about it non-stop since wednesday. since friday night. all ive been doing is thinking about it. did i do what’s right? will i regret it? i don’t believe in regret, so what can i change or learn from it? i need to make sure i know why i did what i did. and i need to know that it was right for me. so i keep looking at it, turning the glass looking at each flaw and imperfection. and the truth is, i know why i did what i did. i know it is right for me in this moment. but you still wonder…

it has been decided (for me)

so. i’m not weak. i think that’s the last word that 98% of people who have ever met me would use to describe me. i have this funny growth in the lump that’s three feet above my ass…it’s called a brain. and believe it or not, i have actually learned how to use it over the years, and i am surprisingly capable of making decisions on my own…at least enough to get me through the last 29 years or so. now admittedly, they haven’t always been the best decisions, but they’re ones that i made. ME. I MADE THEM. ON MY VERY OWN.
so it astounds me when people decide to think for me. to make decisions for me. that’s a lie. it doesn’t astound me. IT FUCKING PISSES ME OFF. are you fucking kidding me with this shit? you thought you knew what was best for me and went ahead and decided? it’s happened more times than i care to count in the last few years.
when i was a kid…had to have been 10 or 11…we got a call that my dad had been in a really bad car accident. had rolled the car several times, punctured a lung, broken several ribs, BAD shape. the accident had thrown the glove compartment 100 yards from his car, and completely totaled the car (a cop car…reinforced and all). we were told about it a week later and not allowed to go down to see him. “…it would be best if you didn’t see him like that...” FUCK YOU. my dad is in the hospital WRECKED UP and you think it would be best if i didn’t see him? are you fucking kidding me? he’s my dad. i should ESPECIALLY be able to see him then.
then when my little brother was in an accident this last august i was called FOUR DAYS LATER when he woke up from the coma. “…well, we didn’t want you to worry and rush over here, so we decided to wait and call you till we knew it was a little better…” WHAT THE FUCK? my brother is in a coma and you didn’t want to worry me? if i shouldn’t be worried then, when SHOULD i be worried? what if he hadn’t made it then? turns out he didn’t really make it then and i never did get to see him through all of that or through the end.
it same thing with his death. i was called THE NEXT DAY. “…well, we didn’t want you to stress out and drive down here so we waited to call you…” EXCUSE ME? stress me out? he’s fucking dead. why shouldn’t i be stressed? why shouldn’t i drive down as soon as i hear? shouldn’t that be my call? NOT YOURS? so i get there a day late and a dollar short. i swear to all that’s holy, if they don’t call me to spread his ashes, a few of them are going to join him in the great beyond.
and it’s still happening. people making decisions for me: “…well, i didn’t think you’d be comfortable so i didn’t think you should go…” WHAT? well fuck…i’m so glad someone knows what i’m comfortable with more than i do. i’m glad someone can make decisions for me of where i would feel okay going or which social situations i would feel comfortable putting myself in. nothing like a fucked up excuse twisted for exclusion. if you didn’t want me there, just fucking ball up and say it. don’t hide it behind some fucked reason that you are trying to force on me.
i’m a fucking big girl. believe it or not i can say yes please or no thank you to situations. i can handle being stressed out about things. i can handle being upset. i can handle making my own fucking decisions. i don’t need people to fucking think for me. trust me, if nothing else, thinking is one thing i’m more than capable of doing. ALL THE FUCKING TIME. i don’t make a decision without thinking it through roughly 100 times. i know what i’m comfortable with, i know what and where i want to be. i know what i can handle and what’s too much for me. it’s honestly a fucking slap in the face when a decision is made for me. it’s saying i’m not good enough. i’m not smart enough. i’m not grown up enough to be in control of my own life. yes, i might ask for help or input once in a while on a decision…but in the end, i am capable of making the final decision without having it made for me.