In an unprecedented move, I am combined every blog I’ve ever started. It is time to pull my life together and have it in one space.
These posts were from my blog called Kestrel’s Perch. I hope you enjoy.
On the Road Again
Damn this. I’m starting to feel like I’m going in circles. I start, I stop, I start, I stop. What am I starting and stopping you ask? Well, this journey to self-awareness. The road to a healthy self. You know, the same damn road I keep trying to go down and never really ending up anywhere.
Some days I think maybe I don’t really know what I want. Maybe I’m fighting against aspects of my personality that aren’t worth fighting against. Am I quirky? Yes. So why am I trying to hard to fight that? Why don’t I embrace it? My quirkyness is part of who I am and what I am. So how have I come to the conclusion that it’s a bad thing?
The Ogre and I were talking about this the other day and he had a very good point. Just because something isn’t deemed socially acceptable or standard doesn’t mean that we can’t embrace and love it. Tattoos for instance. I’m 30, headed for 31, and I love, love, love tattoos. I find them interesting, sexy and beautiful but I feel awkward getting one because “I’m too old”. And then I’ll come to my senses and think Hell no, I’m not too old. It’s a constant struggle. Yes, I’m alternative girl. Yes, I love having an alternative lifestyle. That doesn’t mean I’m bad. That doesn’t mean I’m inappropriate. I just have to figure out how to make myself believe that it’s ok.
Do you believe in coincidence? Why do you think coincidences happen? What are their purpose? Coincidence? My husband’s daughter and my daughter were born on the same day. Also, my “first love” got married the same day and year my daughter was born, actually because of time differences, it was probably around the same time – exactly. Weird.
It makes me wonder how we’re all tied together. How does each life tie into one another? It’s a question that could keep one wondering for a long time. Are we where we were meant to be? I think I am.
Come out, Come out wherever you are…
We’re swiftly approaching the New Year. This is the time of year where I become overly introspective. The way I see it is, better now than never. This time of year is also when I decide I’m going to overhaul my life and change my bad habits into good ones and start really getting my shit together.
I looked back to my promise for the 09/10 year – apparently it was to blog my journey. Shit.
I’ve been thinking of my goals for 2011 and I’ve tried to be realistic about them (have I ever mentioned that I make THE MOST unrealistic goals for myself). So, in review of 2010…what have I accomplished? Well, I have furthered my education. I will have completed my very first University course by mid-January. I successfully made it a year with my driver’s license. I successfully welcomed one child back home. I have tried very hard to repair damages to my family, immediate and extended, and have had some success with that. I have furthered my career and got a decent raise. Mostly, the thing that I accomplished most in 2010 was all work done on the inside. I have practised techniques to calm my temper. I have swallowed my pride. I have learned how to make myself feel beautiful. I have learned when it’s ok that my acceptance is all I need.
So, year 2011…what do I want to focus on? Well, combining my accomplishments of 2009 and 2010, tangible things and growing as a person. So here goes – first I’m changing my language – I will not express myself in terms of “wants”, I will simply state what I am going to achieve. So here goes:
I will complete at least my first year of University.
I will pass my “N” test to get my license.
I will bring my weight to a healthier level.
I will get another tattoo.
I will continue to learn how to be wrong.
I will remember that everyone is different and I can not put my expectations on them.
I will continue to love the people most important to me for who they are.
I will start my spiritual journey.
I will remember the best parts of me and learn how to love them all over again.
I will remember what makes me, me and celebrate that.
So – it’s a pretty tall list right? I think so BUT these are all things that I want to achieve and there is only one person who can make it all happen. That would be….me.
I will try to blog my journey this time, but I’m not making any promises.
Dog Days are Over
Have you ever listened to this song? What does it inspire in you? It inspires a great spiral in me. A spiral that moves so quickly I have a hard time keeping track of the images. A spiral that combines my “before now”, “now”, and “hopes” all in one. It’s been so long since I’ve had a real connection with any person. I miss Jace, PM, DS, LS, and many others because I had a connection. The moments, in the dark of the night – holding hands, talking about dreams. Talking about the impossible.
I have those conversations with myself now. I hold my own hand and talk to me. I conjour pictures of greatness, adventures that I would have followed at one time, people I would have met, the energy I shared.
When I listen to this song – I mostly remember. Remember that I’ve had the opportunity to meet some very cool people in my journey. And then I remember that they took the time to share a little bit of themselves with me.
Some days I feel like I’m drowning. I’m always the “crazy” one, always the “unpredictable” one – but I’m always the one who picks everyone else up. I’m at a loss. I realized that I actually have very little support. I forget the last time that someone asked me if I’m ok. If there was anything they could help me with. I forget the last time that I felt wanted. Sexy. Beautiful. Anything. All I feel like these days is a head case. I have to be careful about what I say, what I do, how I act. Chose my words carefully, behave a certain way, don’t bring some subjects up. I have no freedom in my life anymore. I am expected to be a supportive wife. I am expected to be a supportive friend. A supportive daughter – sister…whatever role I’m fulfilling at the moment. I haven’t figured out when I’m able to be weak though. Shoulders to cry on are few and far between these days. What I wouldn’t give for a hug. One of those hugs you can collapse into and be “safe”. Maybe one day. Maybe not.
I am jealous. I am jealous that my husband has to reconnect with his ex. I understand that she’s “crazy” but refer to my previous statement. So am I. I’m not as confident as many people would like to believe. I don’t actually doubt him finding a renewed love and I guess that’s fair. I can’t really expect him to be supportive of me and wait many years for me to come back when I’m unwilling to give the same thing. Maybe it won’t happen – but I suspect it will. Already our “spark” is dying. Our sex life has become mundane. Did I mention…I don’t do mundane. Sex is my connection. I know the general perception is that I’m a “freak” – but I’m not. I wish for the chase. I wish for the feeling of being wanted. I wish for being the centre of someone’s desires. I’m not there anymore. I imagine I can live that out through other ways and dream. Dreams hold so many possibilities.
Maybe I’m depressed. Maybe I’m thinking of the worse possible scenario but I can’t help but imagine that I will be alone in a very short period of time. I keep trying to burn certain images in my mind. My family, all 5 of us, sitting together and talking and chatting and loving one another. Burn it in and keep it forever. In the moments where I’m alone or scared or whatever, I have moments to get me through. It might sound really far out there – but for those who doubt…I’m rarely wrong. Just sayin’.
Wish me luck world. I’m not sure how much more of this I can take alone.
Why do some people have to fight? Why do some people need to make life difficult? Why have I been so considerate to that person? Why haven’t I been able to be “that” woman, you know the one…the one who keeps the kids away from their father, the one who makes every irresponsible decision on the face of the planet and still comes away unscathed…
I am facing (yet another) Court battle with my ex. Yep, the one who does whatever he wants, whenever he wants with little regard of who might be affected. The one who I’ve had to carry more often than not in the last 12+ years, the one who I’ve helped to have every opportunity to be involved with his children. That one. Apparently now he wants to be involved. Nice. 12 years later…seriously?
Why can’t he just agree that I’ve done a good job raising our children. They are bright, intelligent, kind people who have opportunities, a safe house, full bellies and a loving family. Why isn’t that good enough? Why will it never be good enough? And why can’t I make his acceptance of me unimportant?
I have got to figure out a way to move on. The thought of not seeing my babies on a daily basis hurts my heart. The thought of having limited time with time kills me. Most people have said, oh don’t worry but seriously? It’s not that easy. Those are my babies. The ones who I’ve worried myself sick over. The ones that I’ve cradled and kissed boo-boos for. The ones that I plan events for. The parts of my soul that walk outside of my body. I don’t know that it’s all going to end well. I don’t know that status quo will be maintained. I don’t know that they will remain in the household that has been built for them.
Does the ex not remember when he claimed they weren’t his? Does he remember the willingness to deny their belonging to him? Does he remember holding the door closed while his small son cried on the other side of the door to be let out? Does he remember how that small boy would break down when he had to go to his Papa’s house? Does he not hear his son asking to stay home vs. going to his house?
I get that it must hurt but that is a result of the actions that the ex chose to take. I know it must hurt when your children are more excited to see their Mom and Step-Dad than they are to see you – the very thought breaks my soul BUT it’s also a result of him not being there. Of him ignoring them on “his” time, of having video games come before the children. That’s a result of his own actions. Not mine.
I hope 2010 ends on a positive note and that we can move forward from here. If I could take back all the frivolous wishes that I’ve wasted so far in life just to have my one wish of keeping those babies, I would. In a blink of an eye, with no thought. Going forward, I will have to work to remember that wishing for silly things is a waste. Wishing for health, happiness and family are the only things wishes should be used for.
Keep your fingers crossed for me.
Have you ever listened to the song “Terrible Lie” by Nine Inch Nails? I’m assuming it’s Trent’s way of trying to figure out his beliefs. I can totally relate. I often struggle with the good vs. evil aspects of my personality. I want so badly to be a good person but I’m so unwilling to let the dark side of me go.
I know the consequences of bad behaviour and I also know I like some of them. It works well with my depreciating self-destructive side. I know the consequences of good behaviour and I also know I like them as well.
It’s a fine line sometimes. A very fine line.
At the End of My Rope
Sometimes I think I am going to explode. I understand that I’m not easy to live with. I get that I’m demanding. I get that I have high expectations. If you’re not up to the challenge of living with me, then please…don’t let the door hit you on the way out.
I can’t repeat myself any longer. I now understand you aren’t like me. You don’t have goals. You don’t have ambition. You don’t have direction. You aren’t interested in having any of those things. You’re happy to be stuck in a dead-end job. Living a dead-end life. Well, I’m not.
I want to be successful. I want to be full of life. I want to want things. I want to achieve those things. I do not want to pull dead weight along my journey.
I don’t want to be blamed for your inability to do anything. I don’t want to be the cause for your attempt at gaining control of your own life. I don’t want to have to repeatedly tell you that my needs aren’t being met, that I feel like my words are falling on deaf ears.
I have asked you what you’ve wanted. I have solicited your opinion about how to better myself. I have downright yelled to get you to react, to respond, to show some sort of interest…and again, it falls on deaf ears.
I want respect. And you obviously don’t respect me. You’re obsessed with me. You use me as a method of furthering your self-depreciation. I thoroughly believe that you are not attempting to better yourself or move your life forward so that the constant reminder of how you’re not succeeding will always be there to deter someone from having any expectations of you. I don’t want to play that game.
The tension between us is palpable at times. The unhappiness is so great that it’s overwhelming.
So here’s the paradox…how do I end this? How do I put an end to this craziness without feeding your self-destructive nature?
Ranty McRanty Pants
What have you always wanted to be? When I was little I wanted to be a mermaid but that’s the only thing I can remember really wanting to be. Let’s just say…that didn’t work out. The other thing I can remember wanting to be, and still want to be, is great. I don’t want to be famous, rich (although it’d be nice), popular but I really want(ed) greatness. Well, the next question is what is greatness to me? In theory, to define greatness would thereby identify what I really want out of life…right? That’s what I thought too. So, I started thinking about it. I would love to write stories. I have so many characters in mind with so many adventures and I would love to put them all down on paper to share them with everyone else (I assure you imaginary audience, these characters don’t talk to me nor do I “see” them so despite the want for me to be nutso, I don’t think it’s going to happen) alas, when I put the pen to paper or rather cursor to Word, they disappear and linger just beyond my reach. Writers block? Or am I truly just not a writer. Perhaps that’s not where my talent lies. So…ok, not going to be an author.
NEXT! Ok, motherhood. I’m not sure I’ve ever really wanted to be a mother. I hadn’t really put much thought into what it really meant. Mind you, when you have a baby at the ripe old age of 18, you don’t really have the wisdom to really reflect on the meaning of motherhood. Now? I have two beautiful babies who I dedicate my life to. I want to be a really, really great mother but I’m not sure that I am. I mean sure, I love my kids. I treasure them and protect them and make decisions based on their best interests BUT am I all I can be? I lose my patience, I sometimes wonder what life would have been like if I had waited. So, doing my personal best but is it great? I don’t think so.
Wife. Here’s one I thought I would never be! I am sooooo not wife material. Constant fantasies about being with other people, of being swept off my feet or hell, just someone being interested. Once upon a time, I had sooo many admirers and now…I’m pretty sure I couldn’t pay people enough. I get it, I’m older, I’m fatter, oh yeah and married…but a little interest would be nice. To turn one head or make one man swoon just a bit wouldn’t hurt.
I get this post is kind of all over the map but I realized on the bus today that I am all over the map. All the time. I’m like a moth trying to find a light. My thoughts come and go so quickly that I have a hard time keeping up.
I don’t have a best friend. I don’t have a sister or even a brother I can talk to. My mother and extended family writes me off faster than sour milk. I have my husband but I have to be careful about what I say to him because he’ll go into a tyrant of how he’s worried I’m going to leave him…blah, blah, blah. Sometimes I’ll be walking and it will hit me how few people I have to depend on.
That realization hurts the most.
Hitchhikers Guide to Self-Realization
Today, I took the time to review some of my old posts and I’m happy that I have them all in one place. One spot to be me. I’m not worried about this being read. I’m not worried about putting myself out there. I am who I am. I have my own unique set of circumstances and they have shaped me into who and what I am. I am flawed, I struggle. I don’t know everything, hell I hardly know anything. I won’t be winning any beauty contests and I certainly won’t be the next Canadian Top Model. BUT…
I am one of the good ones. I am loving. I care about people, really care about them and think of my loved ones constantly. I am smart. I am not ugly. I am healthy, relatively speaking. I am living. I have a roof over my head, food in my belly. I have good friends and a wonderful family. I am talented. I am appreciated. I am one of the good ones.
I have had this blog for two years now and I was able to look back and see parts of my journey. Re-live some tough times, some moments of enlightenment and measure if I’ve really learned from my history.
I think I have learned. I feel differently these days. I feel a calm settling into my heart, the ripping pain being replaced by stillness. Last night, before sleep, I felt the familiar tidal wave of agony roll through my body. I felt so alone. I felt so hurt. I realized then that I hadn’t felt like that in quite a while. The hurt, the pain felt foreign. I believe it as a result of that pain being absent for a while. I also realized how much more I enjoy that pain being absent.
I have come a long way. I still have an incredible journey ahead of me and I’m looking forward to it. I will take each challenge with as much grace and persistence I can muster and I will try to keep a smile on my face.
It’s hard to let go. Even when it frees you.
What happened to the days of riding our bikes all day long? Having a picnic lunch in an inner city park. Riding in cars with boys, listening to loud music and feeling like rebels. Remember the day when we stole a t-shirt and ran like hell because we were sure the security guard was on our heels. What happened to those days?
What happened to you that you felt you needed to take many drugs and risk your life? What went wrong? What took you to the edge and encouraged you to jump over? What went wrong? What made it so your daughter wasn’t the most important light in your life and you replaced her with drugs?
I don’t understand drug addiction. I don’t understand wasted talent. I don’t understand risking it all for a high. I don’t understand the ability to gamble with such high stakes.
I’ve watched you struggle to regain control of your life. To walk the fine line of striving for success while dancing with the devil. I’ve watched you continually make poor choices and then suffer the consequences. I’ve watched you fail to learn the same lessons, over and over again. I’m scared to watch you become that junkie that I avoid in the street.
I refuse to watch you die. I refuse to watch you sink any lower. I refuse to be part of your ability to make poor choices and I refuse to enable you any longer.
I have to say good-bye to you. I have to add you to the ghosts of my past, add you to my memory banks. Try and remember the good times and not forget the bad ones. Try to temper my heart with logic and sensibility.
I have loved you in the past but I can longer play that part. Good luck Anna. I wish you well.
Stress, stress and more stress
*SIGH* That seems fitting for this post. I find my stress is coming to a head. Work is nuts, home is nuts, life is nuts. I need an outlet…I am finding focussing on one task to take an incredible amount of effort. This is because I’ve got so much on the go and so many balls in the air that I can only pay seconds-worth attention to each on lest I drop one.
This stress is taking its toll because I’ve noticed that I am becoming frustrated with people. So many expectations on my time, so many expectations for me to solve other people’s problems that I have a hard time being sympathetic and empathetic to other people period.
I think I need to make a comprehensive “To-Do” list. At the bottom of the list will be a huge reminder to myself…my plate is currently FULL and until some of the to-dos come off this list, the answer to “can you…” will have to be “NO”…
Wish me luck
I have wondered what to say to you for a long time and the words rarely come,but you occupy my brain space. Brain space that I would like to have back. I struggle between letting go and being right. I am at the point where I realize that and need to make a choice. I am leaning in the direction of moving on. Why do I have this need to be right? Maybe it’s so I can keep you in my life. However, why am I fighting so hard for a friendship you have no interest in? That’s the real question.
So,you’re not willing to fight to be in my life…then i have no choice but to say goodbye. I have been used by you and used by your brother and I am so done with your family. You are all a bunch of two-faced users and this ship has sailed.
Oh…and to set the record straight, it’s not the kids that were the cause of us splitting…..it was you and your inability to be a caring person. So next time you want to tell that story, tell it right.
Adios Mr Smith, adios
Old Rants from an Old Space
I hate TV. I sit and try to have a conversation with a real, live person sitting beside me and all I get is a glazed stare…greeeaaaaat. Looks like I’m stuck talking to you…faceless, non-existent people in Internet Land. The shitty part of talking to you guys is that I’m not really talking. I’m typing and you don’t exist. Woot…woot. Fucking rah rah. So really, I’m talking to myself and putting the thoughts in my head out there for all to see, or in some cases no one to see. Which is actually kind of creepy, if you think about it.
I miss the days when I had someone to talk to. Intelligent conversation. Like about world events, things that happen in your day, why the sky is blue, anything. Maybe I’ll get those days back, maybe I won’t.
Things that piss me off
1) Friends who never call: you know, it just pisses me off. I’m always the one to call, the one to invite them places, to see if they want to do lunch. It gets on my nerves. You don’t want to be around, or you’re too busy – JUST SAY SO!
2) TV Stations that put commercials on at the same time: Ok, tv people…not everyone can afford a PVR and some of us still have to watch live tv and some of us like more than one show that is on at the same damn time SO in consideration for those people out there who have to watch live tv – could you organize your damn selves so that the freakin’ commercials do not come on at the same bloody time!
5) Losing weight: Have you ever dieted? Have you ever watched the successes of people around you and secretly hated them for being able to do something that you’re struggling with? Yeah, I’m there. It sucks.
More about what pisses me off
A) Nosey, busy bodies at work: You know, if I wanted you to be a part of my conversation, I’d invite you in. I don’t want you to run out of your office at every little thing. You don’t see other people doing that – so why do you? Why do you feel the need to be a part of every. little. thing. – it drives the rest of us crazy.
B) Nosey, busy bodies at work who need to stick their tongues out when they talk: Like really, do I need to explain to you that there really is no need for you to stick your tongue out every time you talk. No one wants to see it. I don’t give a shit that you had a bike accident, I don’t give a shit that your lip is damaged, it’s your lip not your fucking tongue. No one wants to hear you chewing your food. No. One. Cares.
C) People who are sick all the time: Again, after a while, no. one. cares. Oh surprise! Shirley is sick with the stomach flu for the 90th time this week – realllly…hmmmm, it seems to me that Shirley’s “flu” only hits on Mondays or Fridays, how considerate of her viruses. Oh, Mandy has another cold? Oh, and she’s got gall-stones? And she’s battling a sinus infection? AND she’s pregnant with deductplets? AND she’s having an inner ear drum transplant? Wow – didn’t she do that all last week AND have a nasty cough? Riiiiiiight. Attention whore.
@#$* you boss
You are a dick. How dare you allow me to believe I was good to go for this awesome development opportunity and then decide to kick up a fuss almost a week later? How dare you? I am more than a secretary and I’m sorry that you’re pissed other people have noticed. Maybe, just maybe you should have challenged me. Maybe you should have explored my abilities and defined my limitations. Maybe you should stop holding people under your thumb. Good people, hard workers, we all deserve to move onward and upward.
Want to know something? Want to know what they all call you behind your back? GOLDILOCKS! That’s right. Goldilocks. Your nose is stuffed so far up your bosses ass that I’m surprised you can walk independently.
The thing is, despite you wanting to hold me back I will succeed. In one capacity or another. I will rise above being your secretary. I will continue to put my hand up, I will continue to make a name for myself, I will continue to impress people. What you’ve seen is simply the beginning. I am a Gemini and I am one stubborn woman. I will stop at nothing to get to where I want to go. To hell with you.
So, my final thought to you is you hold no power over me. You *think* you do, but you don’t. I see you for what and who you are and I refuse to allow you to break my spirit. I refuse to allow you to have any power over me. I refuse to allow you to hold me back. I refuse to allow you to determine my happiness at work. You are secondary to my life. You aren’t my first boss and you certainly won’t be my last.
So, fuck you Buddy. Watch my smoke.
What is with people
I don’t know if it’s just me or if it’s people in general but lately, it seems like everyone has something to bitch about. I mean really…is your life so empty and boring that you need to complain about every. little. thing? Are you so bored that you have to google funky diseases just so you’ll have something to chat about? Is that what our world is coming to?
For example – parenting. This is one of my personal favorites. I chose to parent my children a certain way. I don’t give a shit if you agree with it or not. I don’t care if you wouldn’t do it my way. My way works for me. My way, so far, works for my kids. My way just happens to be my way and those kids just happen to be my kids…so…fuck off.
I love to see horrified looks on people’s faces when I teach my 5 year old how to rock out and head bang. I looooovvvvveeee the look of disdain on people’s faces when I’m sarcastic to my 10 year old. I giggle when “the Jones'” have an opinion and look upon on my parenting style as if it just grew into a sentient being with warts and purple fucking pickles all of its face.
Want to know what else I love? This is what I love the most – I love when the “Jones'” spend some time around my spawnlings and realize that they are a couple of super brilliant, loving, respectful, confident, and kind kids. I love having the ability to brag, share stories of the praise their teachers give them for being such nice people…most of all, I love when all those “Jones'” realize that a different way just might not be so bad afterall.
I feel better now
Good-bye 2009; Hello 2010
Good-bye 2009, I’m not sorry to see you go. This past year has been a tough one, a good one but a tough one. I have achieved some of my personal goals and am proud for sticking to it. I have had moments I am not proud of. I have learned who I can really trust and who I need to keep at arm’s length. I’ve learned that families come in all shapes and sizes and even though my family doesn’t fit the picture of perfect, it is my family and I love it the way it is. I have learned how to cry in front of people, to let them know I hurt. I have learned how to laugh when I thought laughter wouldn’t be a part of my life again. I have learned that the strength of my character lies in places I never thought it would and I’ve learned that the strength that I relied upon for many years was a fallacy. I have learned that it is ok to be wrong and I’ve learned that some people will never accept that. I have learned how to say “Help.”
When I look back at other years, they have been tough but mostly because of major life events. This year, not many major life events have happened but they have caught up to me. I have a very long road ahead of me, a very long road to travel to get back to me, the person that I’ve always dreamed of being, and the one who is vibrant and full of life. The person that is able to accept people when they can’t accept me and love people even when they are being unlovable. I want to be the person whose legacy is kindness, passion and spirited; not anger and insanity. I have said many times, in various conversations, that the world needs a good cleanse…I don’t want to be one of the people who are contributing to the problem.
Every year, I fail to set New Year’s resolutions. I have always thought I would get to it “tomorrow”; however that outlook was challenged when my “tomorrow” was threatened. What legacy will I leave my children? The people around me who know and love me? Why am I waiting for tomorrow? Why not today? Those are the questions I hope to answer in 2010.
As I say goodbye to 2009, I also say goodbye to my 20’s. I will be 30 in May. It’s like a right-of-passage. I think I have failed in some areas. I could have been much more responsible in my youth and been much farther ahead now; but I wasn’t and I’m not so starting at the beginning is where I’ll be. Thinking about my choices, trying to make wiser decisions, thinking of the impact my decisions have on others are all things that have been twirling in my head. I’m tired of living with “If only…” or “I should have…”. The other one that gets me is “I used to…” and normally I fill in the blank with what I think are positive things. If I stop doing that and say instead “I am going to…” and then actually do it, I will feel much better about myself, my life and the decisions I make. At least I will be doing something.
So, while the New Year is a little way off in the distance, I am going to start planning my Resolutions now. Look at what I want to achieve, what I can achieve and how I can achieve them. Once I have them figured out and a plan set, I will post. I will post my journey through 2010, my road to wellness. I’ll put it out there and be accountable. Accountable for who I am and how I got there.
To My Step-Daughter
I find myself thinking about what I would say to you if given the opportunity. Given the opportunity to tell you my side. To have the opportunity of you listening and hearing what I have to say. Not the bitter, angry words that have been exchanged in the last little while but my side of our time together. I know this opportunity won’t be presented to me but I need to put this out there. I know you likely won’t ever have the opportunity to read this, but I wish you did. So, here goes. These are the words that have been rolling around in my head for quite some time. There are the words I’m about to give life to.
I would like to start off by saying, whether you’d like to believe it or not, I love you. Despite my efforts, I can’t stop. I never imagined that I could love a child who was not my own as my own but I do. I think about you often and in the weirdest places – like the sock isle in Zellers, or a cosmetics department, the ice cream isle, work, the bus, just about everywhere.
Our time together started a long time ago. A little over 10 years ago, to be exact. I first met you when you were a little girl and I probably fell in love with you then. You certainly loved me! We were pals. I was 18, you were 6. I gave you some nail polish, much to your mother’s dismay I would later learn, and you loved it. You loved it so much, you painted the bathroom with it. Oops! Our time together then was very brief. I didn’t get to know you that well and I think that is a good thing. I was in no position to be a positive role model for you, I was young, naive and in the land of teenagers.
Many years passed. Truthfully, I didn’t think about you during those years. I had a lot on my plate. I did a lot of growing myself, had a lot of challenges to overcome, a lot of wisdom to gain. I walked into your life and right back out again. Neither of us knowing what a substantial difference the other would have in our lives just a handful of years later.
Five years later, you were on your way into teenagehood and I was in my young adulthood and our lives were brought together once again. My life was full of turbulence as was yours. A lot of insecurity and instability and uncertainty filled both of our lives. Despite this, your Dad and I decided that we would try to build a life together. I knew he had a life with Val. I knew it wasn’t going to be easy. Maybe you didn’t know this, but I promised to wait for him. For as long as it took to make the transition easier on everyone. To make this about starting our lives together properly, not in a frenzied craze. As you know, that’s not how it happened.
We decided that there would be no waiting, we decided to jump in with both feet. Looking back, was it the right thing to do? Probably not. Was it the best decision? Probably not. Would we do things differently if second chances were handed out freely? Probably not. The thing about me, and your Dad, is that we’re people. Human beings. Just like the rest of the population. We make bad decisions, we make poor choices, we have consequences because of those actions. We’re not perfect and that’s ok. We worked hard to make our family work. We worked harder than you can imagine. In the first year of our relationship together, we faced more adversity than many couples face in ten years. We covered the dissolution of long-term relationships, the breaking of households, an unplanned pregnancy, borderline alcoholism, moving, the blending of our children, ex-partners who were not cooperating in the parenting of our children, a parental death, a marriage, being laid-off, this combined with everyday life…makes for a tough foundation.
I know you have many complaints about your time with us and I know that you’ve heard stories about how it was from other people. I would like to take this opportunity to clear the air a bit about some specific arguments and topics that have been brought up in the last year. I’d also like to head this section with a caveat. I am willing, at any time, to sit in a room with all the players involved to hash out “the truth”. I would jump at the chance to sit with your Mom, Mike, Bree, Sean, your Dad, you and me and sit down and really go through the last 5 years.
Your Dad has always been there for you. From the time you were an infant. Your Grandmother remembers that. Your “aunts and uncles” remember that. The people who surrounded you guys remember that. The only ones that seem to have forgotten are your Mom and possibly her parents.
Your Dad did change when he got together with me. I recognize that. Somethings are for the better and somethings are not. One of the best things to come out of this situation is the fact that he recognizes that.
Your Dad did push you into the wall, and I notice you never hesitate to throw that in his face but let’s stop for a minute and look at the events leading up to that. I’ve heard him apologize for his actions but never once have you apologized for yours. You are accountable for your actions regardless of your age.
You continue to demand that your Dad apologize for the way he talked to you but I haven’t heard any apologies coming from you. For saying he’s not your Dad and calling him a “donor”. Where is the accountability there? Where is the respect you are so willing to demand?
I know you think your Mom is an “amazing” woman, and that may be true now. It wasn’t 5 years ago. She left you here with your Dad to pursue a man. She had no intention of coming back, not during the summer, not during the winter, not ever. As a matter of fact, she kept her apartment for as long as she did because we stayed in it for a month. She did not maintain a residence in Victoria as of Feb of 2004. The truth is, she worked in Victoria, right down the road from where we lived for a long time and she didn’t call. She didn’t stop by to take you to dinner. She didn’t take you on the weekends. She didn’t have a lot of space for you in her life. Your Dad fought with her, to come and see you. Your Dad was the one who used to yell at her when she’d break her plans…again. Your Dad was the one who fought for your relationship with her. Against his better judgement.
There were three distinct times where you staying in our home was not the best possible situation for you or us and we asked your Mother to come and get you. All three times, the answer was no.
You brought up, in a particular email, that you spent the entire summer of 8th grade toting the youngest one around. Let’s get something clear right now. You asked to take her. Every time. There were times when I said no. Spending time with the littlest one was something you looked forward to everyday. You mention that you were the one responsible for taking care of her when Bopie died and I went on a drinking binge. I might remind you again, her father took care of her as well. As a matter of fact, at that time both of the kids were going to his house every weekend. That doesn’t leave a lot of time for you to be left to be the only one responsible, does it?
There were times when I’d ask you to babysit, and if you recall, you were paid for those times. There were times when we’d run to the store and you’d stay home with the kids but we weren’t gone for hours at a time.
You’re mad that I won’t let you see or talk to them. My question to you is why should I? What do you have to offer? You have said horrible, terrible things about me and your Dad so how am I to know you won’t say those same things to the kids? Those two children are still young and it is my job to protect them and that’s what I’m doing. You didn’t just hurt us when you left, you hurt them too. I provide consistency and stability in their lives and I’m not about to disrupt that.
I would like to say, that I never hoped to be your “mom”. I didn’t want the job. That position had already been taken and I wasn’t interested in subbing in. Unfortunately, that wasn’t to be the case. When we all came together as a family, I thought I would have the opportunity to be more of a friend to you. Someone you could come to with your problems. Someone you could trust with your secrets. It turns out that no one wanted to take responsibility for the choices that needed to be made in your life so I did. You don’t have to like that but it’s the truth.
The reason you had school trips, birthday parties, school supplies/clothes, concerts, sleepovers, your own room, new socks and underwear when you needed it, special body wash, piercings, Easter morning and all the rest for the last 4.5 years…it was because I took the responsiblity to make sure you had those things. The reason you had to do homework, talk with the school counsellor about the issues you were having at school, having chores, being responsible for your hygiene, yeah those were mostly me too.
I know you think that I am the worst thing to happen to you and to your Dad; however, I don’t think so. I think that in a lot of little ways, a lot of little ways that matter, I had a big influence on your life and maybe one day you’ll see it. But maybe you won’t. Either way, I know the truth in my heart. I am a hard person to live with, yes. I wasn’t always right, I’ll admit that. That I never had your best interests at heart? Bullshit. That I treated you unfairly? Not so. That I put your needs last? Never.
I’m disappointed with who you are right now. You are a dishonest, manipulative person who doesn’t take accountability for anything you do. You have accused us of disrespecting you, abusing you and mistreating you for over a year now. The funny thing is though, you have done nothing but disrespect us. You have been verbally and emotionally abusive for a long time. You have mistreated this family in every way you can think of.
I hope one day you grow up. I hope one day you can be more than your Mother. I hope one day you can stop playing games with everyone around you. I hope one day you can be a true person.
This is my letter to you. I can’t say that life has been worse since you’ve been gone but it hasn’t been any better either. I’m saddened that we didn’t get the opportunity to play “weekend parent” which is a role everyone else has had the luxury of playing. I hope life can teach you many things. I hope you succeed in everything you try. I hope that you are granted your hearts true desires and I hope that you are granted disappointment.
Narrow-mindedness…I don’t like it. I haven’t really put much thought into it until lately but now that I’ve been faced with it a couple of times in the past little while, I realize, I really. don’t. like. it.
I mean, it probably sucks not being able to see an inch past your own nose and I even kind of feel sorry for people like that. It would suck to be in a box, where everything is the same, all. the. time. Where advice that worked for one situation works for them all…man, talk about BOOOOOORRRRING.
I strive to not be narrow-minded and I will work even harder from now on to make sure that I stay that way. I don’t want to be the person who can’t see the forest for the trees. I want to be the person who can look at each situation with a fresh set of peepers. I want to be able to see a situation from ALL sides – the hardest thing to do right? Especially when you’re involved in a situation because that means that there is another side that is different from yours. One where you might come to realize you’re wrong…but by being wrong makes it so that next time you’re more well-rounded. Next time you have added experience from looking at all sides, and it will be easier to relate to everyone.
Well, I said I’d strive for it – let’s see if I can remember that goal. THAT’s that tricky part.
Perverted Pee Wee
I’m tired of this crap. Like really tired. Like the type of tired where you simply can’t drag yourself through it anymore. It’s like being part of some perverted play, but not perverted in the good way. Perverted in a wanting to watch a topless Pee Wee Herman kind of way….ew. That’s some real sick.
I’ve tried to get away from this. I’ve tried to talk about it. I’ve tried to be reasonable about the whole situation. I’ve tried to “walk a mile” but…fuck them. I’m done. In some ways, I wish I had kept up on my “mean-girl” personality…it could come in fucking handy these days. Maybe I should pull her out of the closet (ha ha ha…my mean girl’s coming out of the closet) and dust her off…see is the ‘tude still fits.
Excuse me Patty Perfect, I didn’t realize that my imperfection was cramping your fuckin’ style. Bite me.
Guess what folks…I have issues, like hundreds and hundreds of issues. Big issues, small issues, fat issues, tiny issues, pink, purple and fucking banana colored issues and I LOVE EVERY ONE OF THEM. I love that my body is flawed, or at least I’m going to try to learn to love that. I love that I’m not the smartest person ever, that simply means I can learn from other people. I love that I have a dark side that scares even me, that means I have a playground to exercise my demons on. I love that I have a soft, vulnerable side that means that I’m human and can be hurt. I love that I’m not a Jones. I got sucked in and tried to keep up with your rat race but I FUCKING QUIT! I don’t like you. I don’t know why I wanted to like you, I don’t know why I wanted to BE like you…but I changed my mind. I want to be me, ’cause no one else can do it quite like I can.
So…peace out folks. Good to know that you’re setting examples of how not to be for all to see. Cheers
It might be a smell, it might be a song or even just a rift in a song but there are moments in my life where I feel almost overwhelmed with my memories.
Suddenly I’ll get a flash of my “other life” as I refer to it these days and some days I’ll get an over whelming sense of what my “now life” is. I don’t really know what delineates the two. I suspect my marriage and the cutting of most of my ties to my “other life” is the delineation. It only makes sense really.
There are times when all of a sudden I want to cry because I remember heart-crushing nights of wanting to gain someone’s acceptance so badly but never being able to do it. Remembering the painful journey to be good enough for someone but never achieving that goal. Remembering the blinding frustration of trying to be a good mom and girlfriend but always being accused of something or another, to the point where I said screw it. If I’m going to be accused of it, might as well do it.
Then there are the moments where I have hazy memories of the parties and the stupid shit I did at them. The decisions I made, the people I “met”, the intoxicants that were consumed….oh man.
I do feel like two different people. A lot of the people I’m around now have heard the stories but I always feel like there’s a side of me they don’t know. Maybe I’ve just fooled myself into thinking that. Maybe I just need therapy…or drugs. Who knows
I’ve never really known what I want to do…with my life, I mean. I’ve always had these crazy dreams of flitting from town to town in some European country with my trusty laptop, faded bag and stories to tell. Instead, I’m a mother, wife and office worker. Yippee feckin’ doodle.
I still want to have this crazy, amazing existence. I mean, all time considered, it’s pretty short. Who says I have to live by “society’s rules”. Why can’t I be just a little off centre? Why can’t I want things that are seemingly impossible? Why can’t I make those things happen? I’m a fairly smart girl, I wouldn’t give Einstein a run for his money but I certainly won’t be spending the majority of time sitting with a dunce cap on my skull either. Where does this ideology that we must “fit the mold” come from? And why is it so ingrained in us to follow it? It seems like some people have what it takes to break the mold and others sit in their cycle. I don’t want to be in a cycle. I want the unexpected. I like chaos. I like not having all the answers all the time.
I want that life. I want to live in a way where I don’t have any regrets. I don’t want to be 80, 60 or even 30 and have a time when I thought “if only…”. I want the history of my life to shine in my eyes. I want to be full of life, not idly sitting by waiting. I want my children, when they’re older, to have to roll their eyes when they’re relaying the latest crazy adventure their mother is on to a friend/ colleague/ etc. I want them to take a quiet pride in that I broke the mold. That I showed them it’s possible, that we really can be and do anything we put our minds and hearts to.
Frequently Un-Asked Questions
So…(drum roll please)…I don’t have cancer…YAHOOOOOO.
My cells are abnormal, which is only to be expected from an abnormal person; actually wouldn’t it be abnormal for my cells to be normal? Anyway, I digress…
Like I was saying, my cells are abnormal so I have to go and have them removed, the Dr. assures me it doesn’t hurt but I’m not entirely sure how he knows this seeing as he doesn’t HAVE a cervix so he couldn’t possible know if it hurts. Either way, I’ll be asleep so who cares.
I’ve also made the decision to get spayed. That’s right folks, spayed. I am going to go and tie these tubes up so tight nothing will ever get past them again. Can I get an Amen? It’s not that I don’t love children, cause I do and weirdly enough they usually like me – I blame the shared mentality. I especially love the two chillin’s currently in my possession household HOWEVER my body doesn’t like making adorable little beasties and my pocket book certainly doesn’t want more of those little money suckers cutsie wootsies to pay for so, at the age of 29 I am going to free-willingly join the sterile population. This hen has laid her last egg.
Onto other news…I have a new job. It’s only temporary but it’s new none-the-less. I’m working in the Executive office (sounds important right?) It may turn into ANOTHER temporary position but it’s all good. I’m enjoying learning new things, using my brain and challenging myself.
What else can I blabber about…hmmmm, my roommate is moving out soon. YEAH! He’s not really my roommate, he’s sort of my ex. Ok, so not even sort of. He is. I know, I know, weird. It’s hard enough to break up with someone but have them live with you on and off for almost 4 years of the 6.5 you’ve been apart and it makes it doubly as hard. But, there’s an end in sight and this will be the final end. No more coming back. It’s time.
Other than that, I’m just busy redecorating my kiddles’ bedrooms. My son’s room is done and it looks fantasticular (ha ha ha) and my daughter’s room is next…sigh 😀
Anyway, that’s it. Was it as good for you as it was therapeutic for me? Ha…sucker
When is the right time to throw the panic switch? I was biopsied last week for cancer in my girlie bits and was nervous but not really worried. I patiently waited a week and called as follow up to the Doctor’s office…my results are in.
The best part is, I don’t know what they are yet. They are in with the gyno for review and he’ll contact me, so in the meantime I get to sit and wonder.
I wasn’t scared last week, I thought it’d just kind of go away. Now I’m kind of nervous. We’re talking about cancer people…the shit that kills thousands. It can strike with no warning. It has struck my family twice in the past 2.5 years…will I be the 3rd?
I know, I know, don’t get all worked up until you get the results but I can’t help it. I am scared. I am scared to hear the words I don’t want to hear. I’m scared that I will be on the wrong side of the statistics. I am scared for my kids. I am scared for my family. I am scared.
Wish me luck. My world is about to change, one way or another.
My Side of the Story
This is a story about my family. This is my side of the story. The players are: Ogre, Queenie, Freckles, Mommy Dearest, Blondie, the Auditor, Techie, Spawnling, Grams and of course Yours truly.
It all starts about this time last year…wait, I’m wrong. It started many, many years ago with Ogre and Mommy Dearest and their product Queenie. Queenie lived with Mommy Dearest until about seven years ago. Mommy Dearest left Queenie to go and move in with the boyfriend she met online, at that point Queenie went to live with Ogre.
Enter five years ago when Yours truly and Ogre decided to combine our packs into one; consisting of Ogre, Yours truly, Queenie, Freckles and Blondie. For the first couple years, Mommy Dearest didn’t really involve herself with Queenie. We fought, yelled, and struggled to involve her with Queenie’s life. It sorta worked.
About three years ago, Mommy Dearest became pregnant with a new baby (’cause you can’t get pregnant with an OLD baby!) and suddenly she was more interested in Queenie. Not a bunch but a little more. One year later, Bouncing Baby Boy was born. Mommy Dearest’s interest in Queenie went THROUGH THE ROOF!
Now we’ll go to about this time last year…we were having some issues with Queenie. Typical teenager stuff, skipping school, lying, stealing, making out with boys, etc. It’s typical but difficult. Everyone has their opinions, everyone has their ideas of how they are going to deal with situations like that – and almost all of them will change their minds when they’re in the moment. Of course, you can’t be sure of that until you’re in that situation but that issue is a whole other blog post. ANWAY…we thought maybe our house wasn’t the most productive place for Queenie to be anymore and maybe she should try living with Mommy Dearest again. We sat them down, laid out the issues we were having, laid out our feelings about the situation and suggested that Queenie go live with Mommy Dearest for a bit. Well, that went over like a stone balloon.
Fast forward to August of last year. We went camping for the long weekend, it so happens that Queenie and Blondie share a birthday. You know what, Queenie got exactly zero birthday calls on that day. Oh yes, we all have cell phones and they all had reception…but not one of them rang. Hmmm…so the rest of August is rough at home. We can’t trust Queenie, we’re nervous about leaving her home during the day, we’re at our wits end and have no where to turn. Tough for us.
End of August, Mommy Dearest is taking Queenie on a vacation to the East. Cool. A break for everyone. We kiss her good-bye and all think we’ll work it out when she gets home. Pipe dream. Four days after she left we get a text message: I’m moving in with Mom. Don’t try to stop me.” Nice. Ok we think, honeymoon, etc. They are good at being Drama Queens. Mommy Dearest is good at playing Miss Popularity.
It’s been almost a year and we’ve *seen* her a couple of times. Why you ask? Well, she’s worried that we *might* yell – ummmm…yeah, there’s a real possibility of that. I think that she *might* deserve a little yellin’. Apparently that’s not the case. So, Ogre doesn’t really get to be a part of his daughter’s life because…ummmm…Queenie doesn’t want to take responsibility for her actions Ogre might yell. RIGHT.
So, Freckles and Blondie are down a sister, although that seems secondary, ’cause you know how little kids deserve these kinds of things.
The weird part is most of Ogre’s friends are involved with this situation. So, like they all get to see Queenie but he doesn’t…that’s weird. This whole group and situation is weird.
The Haunted Halls of History
As I looked at your picture, I could feel myself being pulled. Pulled back to another time and place where life was simple, rather it seemed complicated at the time. Dealing with parents, social graces or disgraces, dependant upon your situation, school, homework and dreaming of the future. Hindsight depicts what a simple time it all really was.
Looking at your picture, I could feel a stir of nostalgia in my belly. A quieted tear for times long gone. A silent smirk at the trouble we caused, the fun we had. The impact we made on each other’s lives was enormous, even though neither of us realized it until many, many years later. How we were so important to one another but, because of immaturity, that importance never voiced, never explored fully.
It’s a precarious place, sitting and wishing for your youth. It was one of the greatest times in my life, now that I look back on it.
So, will one day I look back on today and sit with the same wishful air wishing to come back to this time?
Spirituality has been on my mind a lot lately. It used to be a large part of my life but somewhere along the line, it’s fallen off the wagon. I don’t want it to be that way. I have a deep yearning for my spirituality to be whole. Which brings me to the next dilemma.
I have always embraced the “Christian” God, in the sense that I believe in a male “Lord” who is of greater power than our planes. That being said, I’ve always embraced the “Pagan/ Wiccan” Goddess, in terms of a “Lady” as well.
The struggle that I’ve being feeling lately is being torn between both. I’m not sure why I feel the need to chose one over another but I do feel that. I don’t want to choose. I want them both. I want my Lord and I want my Lady. I feel that I needboth of them in order to achieve my own personal balance.
So, myquestion is why am I feeling this pressure? Is it because I won’t feel welcomed into one community or the other if I make enough room in my heart for both? Is it because of societal pressure to dedicate yourself to one deity and follow that one faithfully? To open your heart to two worlds, two worlds that have never seen eye-to-eye I might add, would condem you to outcast?
By the same stretch, does it really matter? My love for both of Them doesn’t have anything to do with the communities associated with Them. My love for Them is for me, for my balance, for my peace.
Which then makes me question why acceptance is important to me. Why is validation something that I actively seek? Why can’t I just be secure in my own beliefs and thoughts without having to have an outside community approve of me.
Hmmmm…interesting thoughts to chew on over Easter
Friends are the family you chose for yourself
How many times have you heard those exact words? I’m starting to wonder about some of the “family” I’ve chosen for myself. They say one thing to you but then when sitting and chatting with other people, it’s pretty clear that what they’ve been saying isn’t exactly true. It seems, for some, that the only time I ever hear from them is if I email, or call, or message…it gets tiring.
It starts to make you wonder if you are beating a dead horse. Maybe it’d be better to just stop calling.
Just another thing for me to ponder I guess.
The Written Word
The beauty of language and the written word is that you make anything be. You can make the sky purple and special little creatures that have beautiful bronze skin and large liquid gold eye, be the norm.
Fantasies and deep ridden desires can come to fruition and your reality, whether it be bright and sunny or dark and bleary, can become whatever you want it to be. There is no fat, skinny, pretty, ugly, stupid or brilliance, unless you make it.
I want to create a world for myself on paper. I’ve started countless numbers of times but I come to a point where my brain just shuts off. I’m not sure if it’s from fear or simply lack of talent. Who knows but I do want to get it out there. I have so many stories to tell with so many wonderful characters that it’s a shame not to share them, but what if I’m the only one who thinks they’re great? What if I’m the only one who can imagine their brilliance? Do all writers go through this doubt? Do many of them care?
I suppose the only way to ever answer a question is to first, ask the question and second, really seek out the answer.
Talking is hard, listening is harder. Really hard but it lifts a weight and makes you feel lighter.
I got to talk about a lot of stuff last night that has been bugging me for a long time. I also got to realize that some people really do view me as unapproachable. That I’ve been kept out of the loop and that battles that weren’t really battles have been fought on my behalf without me wanting that to happen.
I also realized that I can’t change people. I can’t change the way they see a situation, I can’t change their assumptions. I can’t change their perceptions AND their perceptions are going to be different from mine. I need to remember that being right isn’t all that important. Being satisfied with the truth in my heart needs to be good enough for me.
Stepping into yourself
Let me set the scene…it’s one of my best friend’s birthdays, there is a lot. of. booze., a little pot, a little dancing and a good time had by all.
I’m not sure if it was the booze or the pot or just the atmosphere but I felt like myself. Like the me I used to be (now THAT is some poetry!) Some days it feels like I’m acting in this part where I have to be wise, I have to keep a katrillion balls in the air, like I’m in continuous improvement mode…where I don’t have time to just stop, be raw, be vulnerable.
The other night I felt beautiful, I felt raw, I felt in touch.
Now I remember what it feels like…and I’m hooked
We had a devastating blow last August, to our family. Our eldest daughter abruptly left home and wouldn’t talk to us. It took us through so many dark paths and even darker places. It threatened our lives together and to this day, we’re feeling the effects.
I have made the choice to let go. I need to let go. Not just of the negative feelings I have toward this situation and the people who are involved but to let go of all of it. To make the choice to not allow these things to get to me.
So, I’m making the choice to move on. I’m making the choice to be important to me and to stay true to my feelings. I am making the choice to let other people own their behaviours. I chose to not feel the need to be right but to be true.
I chose light over dark and love over hate.
It’s a Matter of Frustration…er I mean Perspective
I’ve mentioned before the rash of issues I need to deal with. One of them would be my weight. It’s a huge detriment to my psyche. I am overweight. No…wait, I’m F A T. I know that’s a no-no word but it’s true.
So, a couple of months ago, I signed up for Weight Watchers and I went to exactly one meeting. I know, stellar performance right? HA! At least I got all the books and the tools to help me along my weight loss journey…ah which so far as led to the fridge and an almost perfect avoidance of the bathroom scale.
I digress. I’ve picked up my renewed enthusiasm and have decided that I should, in fact, jump on the Skinny Shimmy wagon and lose some of this freakin’ weight. I know my points, I know how to eat, I know I should be exercising and I know that I will likely give up at the first sign of a DQ blizzard or a Vodka Mudshake. I also know that the only person who is going to do this is me. Shitty deal eh? This isn’t one of those crappy jobs you can delegate to the hubby or kids or dog but actually have to do yourself. S h i t t y b u z z.
So, fellow web dwellers, care to join me on the painstaking rewarding road to weight loss.
Is it in bad taste to blog about blogging or rather blog about other bloggers blogging? Everyday I stumble upon yet another, outstanding piece of internet literature. There are some AMAZING writers out there. Whilst digging through pages upon pages of blogs that have me near tears and in stitches, I’ve started to realize what a community there is out there.
Like blogspots dedicated to spotlighting bloggers, blogger gatherings, and awards – for blogging. Now, I like to think of myself as semi-techy savvy and have been dappling with the internet and computers since the early days of Quake clans held in the local tech-junkie bull pit internet cafe but now my only question is how could I have never stumbled into this world? And…how do you make yourself a spot in this hugely talent ridden, gut-busting funny, personal insight-filled community? Hmmmm…I guess this will just be another road in my adventure – although I’m not above taking some guidance from any blogger elders out there
I have been in a dark place for a long time. This place has been sucking the life out of me for longer than I can remember. I need to move on from here. I need to move past here. I want to see and feel the sunshine again.
I have been caught up in this warped, energy sucking, anger induced state for longer than I can remember now. I know that I’m more than this. I know there is more to me.
Battling depression is a crazy battle. Some days it seems to make sense and then other days it doesn’t. Just coming to terms with being depressed is hard enough. To objectively look at your life and realize that you’ve behaved in a way that clearly depicts depression is a hard thing to do.
The days I’ve struggled to just get through the day, the promise to myself that if I could just get through this day, I could curl up, safe, in my bed. The days where my poor cheeks and tongue took the brunt of my nerves.
My darkness has become my sanctuary. I understand it. I know it. It feels safe.
It’s time for me to take a deep breath and leave my darkness. It’s time to feel this weight lift from my shoulders. It’s time for me to rejoin life and live it. Really live it. Feel it, breath it, touch it, look forward to it, celebrate it. This is my now.
So, with baited breath, I say goodbye. Goodbye darkness. Thank you for keeping me safe when I couldn’t handle being fully committed to life.
Amusement Park in my Brain
The last little while has been better. My hubby and I are getting on far better than we have been. It takes effort on both parts but that’s ok, it’s worth it.
We have had some serious family issues in the last siz months and they have been weighing us down. I have come to the conclusion that we need to move on. This can’t be an everyday part of our lives anymore. It simply can’t. We are running out of steam. I think they way to deal with this is to write letters with everything I want to say in them. If I want to send them, fine. If not, I don’t have to. I have to let go of trying to make them see if from my perspective. That’s a toughy.
When it’s over?
Does the fat lady really sing? I doubt it.
I am starting to wonder if my marriage is over. I’m not really sure about anything anymore. There are things that really bother me. At first it was one or two things but lately I’ve noticed he’s just not that into me or anything to do with helping to run our family. I figure that if I’m to do it on my own, then I should just do it.
He seems very disinterested in participating in our family and the things that are necessary to manage it. Making dentist appointments, making doctor’s appointments, managing finances, decided what’s for dinner, deciding what show we’re going to watch, these are all the things that are left up to me. I feel the resentment building up inside me and I want it to stop.
I realize that our relationship will never be what it was when we were together at the beginning but I don’t like how it is now. I don’t feel wanted. I don’t feel appreciated. I feel like I’m a burden. I feel like I make him miserable and I don’t want to anymore.
I get that he might be depressed, I get that *I* might be depressed but we can’t go on like this anymore. It’s not healthy for either one of us. I see how he is when he’s around his friends, he comes alive and then when he’s back with me, it’s like he deadens himself. I think I’ve made him be like that and I just don’t want to anymore.
I’m afraid of being on my own. I’m afraid of being without him and I really don’t want to face each day without him but maybe that’s the best thing for him.
I’ll keep you posted.
The Great Wide, Wicked Web
I’ve mentioned before the I’ve had my fat, ostrich head buried in the sand and I believe this more and more thoroughly every day. In the midst of Gossip Girl (I wasn’t kidding about my love of that show…sigh) last night, my son looks over at me and says “Mommy, I need to talk to you about something . . . in private”.
Mother panic mode. It was instant. He’s 10 now and there is a whole world of problems that come along with being a double digit.
So, back to my story. I decided that this couldn’t wait, so my son and I headed off to the privacy of my room to chat. So there, sitting on my bed he turned his big blue eyes on me, just brimming with tears. He said…Mommy, back in September, J (who is his cousin and who’s name is NOT posted here for OBVIOUS reasons) told me to look up “alien sex games”. Ok, so pause. I know I shouldn’t laugh and I know that this bothering him BUT ALIEN SEX GAMES? BWAHAHAHAHAH HAHAHAHAHAHA
He continued in a rush…”and then I got hooked. I couldn’t stop looking but I quit Mom. I quit in October.”
All at once I was feeling a mixture of astonishment (I mean, how do you deal with your 10 son telling you he got hooked on porn?), repulsion (again, 10 years old, porn, you do the math) and hilarity (see notes above).
I said to him “thank you for trusting me with this. It is obviously bothering you. I am glad you quit because there are a lot of terrible things out there and things that a little boy shouldn’t be exposed to. It’s a good lesson to learn that the internet is a big, scary place and we can be exposed to all sorts of things that we shouldn’t be. I said that we would put a net nanny on his computer for him and explained that a lot of what he saw (based on assumptions of course) is not natural and that sex is really a beautiful thing between two consenting adults. It’s how people are made and most adults do it.”
Now…I am sort of between feeling incredibly sad, appalled and outraged. Yes, I get that it was my fault too for not supervising as closely as I could have and I get that the internet is a “free-speech” place BUT why does this crap have to be accessible to our children?
It grosses me out.
Wonder Weightloss Wagon
I’m a big girl – I admit it. I’m almost 5’9″ and pushing 245 lbs. I know I should lose weight, I know I would feel better losing weight and I know my health would better and I know the list of “pro’s” goes on and on BUT…
[insert high-pitched whiny voice here] I don’t wannnnna.
The more I hear people say “oh, I’m down 2.3 pounds” – “I ran seventy-hundred kms last night” – the more I want to grab a bag o’ chips and hang out watching Gossip Girl (yes, I’m secretly in love with this show).
I know how to do it, I know why I should do it but I’m not sure why I’m not motivated to do it. I can imagine myself returning to my former glory – all buff and beautiful (I used to be in tip-top physical shape). I can imagine myself shopping in *regular* shops, looking hot and having a good time.
I think it might be a fear of failure, I think it might be little self control and waning will-power, and I think it’s laziness. So I think I might just have to kick myself in the butt and jump on the Wonder Weightloss Wagon.
So, I’m new to this whole blogging thing. I am jealous awed by the writing talents out there. So, on my adventures through Blog Land, I’ve come across a thing called memes. So…I stole one and am going to answer them now (although my answers will likely pale in comparison to the wit of the person from whom this was stolen)
So…here goes answered the meme booty…
1.Your ex is on the side of the road, on fire. What do you do?
Find a stick and roast some marshmallows?
2.Your best friend tells you she’s pregnant. What is your reaction?
Point and laugh first but the we would be happy for her – they are actually trying to get pregnant
3.When is the last time you wanted to punch someone in their face?
Last night, anger management, my coach – you do the math
4.Congratulations! You just had a son. What’s his name?
I did? WTF? Last I checked I was meme-ing my blog. Oh fine, in the spirit of fun, I’d name in Zangerhips and pronounce it Chris.
5.Congratulations! You just had a daughter. What’s her name?
Again, when did humans start randomly popping out children? Isn’t there a pregnancy or something involved? Ok, same as my new founded son, I’d name her Sarah and pronounce it Charlie.
6.What are you craving right now?
To be away from work.
7.What was the last thing you cried about?
Oh geez…probably some PMS related tragedy like the sky wasn’t exactly the shade of blue I was hoping for.
8.When you buy something and your change is a penny. Do you keep it?
Do you mean they still make cash and coins? Huh, imagine that.
9.What color is your tissue box?
I don’t have one but my file box is purple
10.Do you have a ceiling fan in your room, and if so, is there dust on that fan?
We don’t have a ceiling fan…yet but we will and when we do, you can bet there will be dust on it.
11.What is the last voicemail you received about?
Again…people use phones to TALK on? I usually only get email, text messages or facebook messages…wait, I hear a ringing…could that be this phone to which you refer
12.Scariest thing you’ve experienced in the last year?
Well, I found aware that aliens were landing in Oct AND THEN I found out that the end of the world is coming in 2012 BUT there was this MONSTER spider that was crawling across my laundry room floor so I’m going to have to do with the spider.
13.Have you ever had a garage sale?
Yes I have and (true story) the police ended up having to come…he he he – story for another time
14.What is the last alcoholic beverage you had?
A Ceaser. My new favourite, although it’s not wise to have 7 of them the night before your 10 year old’s birthday party to which he’s invited 10 of his close and personal friends.
15.Are you happy right now?
I was until I started thinking about last weekend’s b-day party…yikes!
16.Who came over last?
came over where? to my desk? My boss aka Mr. Ass. to my house? and old friend.
17.Do you drink beer?
18.Have your brothers or sisters ever told you that you were adopted?
If they did, I’d know it was true. I’m an only child – or so my mother has told me
19.Dark or light jeans?
How about fuzzy comfys? Why are they never an option? Oh right, cause they are the ONLY option
20.What was the last movie you watched at home?
We watched Spy School – it was alright, actually it was better than the last movie I saw in the theatre.
21.What is in your pocket?
What are you? A mall cop?
22.Who introduced you to your boyfriend/girlfriend?
Shhhhhhh…gaaaawd. My husband doesn’t KNOW about my boyfriend/girlfriend – oh crap, they don’t know about each other either
23.Where do you hurt?
The freckle on the left quadrant of my mole hurt two Thursdays ago
24.What is your favorite aisle at Wal-Mart?
I actually prefer Zellers.
25.When is your birthday?
The day after my mom went into labour
26.What are you going to do after this?
Probably go home – oh yeah, did I mention that I’m wasting time at work?
27.Who was the last person you went shopping with?
My husband. He rocks.
28.What about your favourite dessert?
What about it? It’s fattening (like all good desserts should be) and goooood
29.Do you have the same name as one of your relatives?
Nope, I was named after the nurse who assisted with my birth. Imaginative eh?
30.Do you like pickles?
Yes, as a matter of fact, I’m in like with a special dill
31.Is someone in love with you?
He says he is and I believe him
32.What color is your couch?
It’s called “mushroom” but I don’t think it’s really the color of mushrooms
33.Has anyone ever mistaken you for a family member?
Yes. It was the family of troglodytes that live under my stairs – they thought I was their Queen
34.Does someone like you right now?
Well I mentioned the dill right?
35.Do you know anyone in jail/prison?
If I told you that, I’d have to kill you
36.Who was the last person to send you a text message?
My rocking hubby
37.How many hours did you sleep for last night?
What is this? Torture?
38.Do you swear at your parents?
Ummm…the idea of being turned over my 50 something year old mother’s knee for a spanking is enough of a deterrent for me not to.
39.Do you think someone is thinking about you right now?
Doesn’t everyone think about me ALL THE TIME?
40.What is the last thing you spent money on?
My new super, kick ass uber comfy jammies
41.Name one thing no one can ever take away from you?
The things that make me, me.
42.What is the last thing you ate that had onions in it?
A wicked hamburger from A & W
43.Crunchy or Puffy Cheetos?
44.The first person on your friends list just called you a bitch. What do you have to say to them?
Ummm…that’s like a part of our regular vocabulary.
45.Have you ever blocked someone on Myspace before?
This would mean that I would have to have a MySpace account…now facebook? that’s a totally different story.
46.Do you wear a name tag at work?
No but I have a funky name plate. That’s way cooler.
47.What color is your iPod?
It’s silver with a flame cover on it.
48.What is your favourite key chain on your keys?
My voodoo dude
49.Say you were given a pregnancy test right now. Would you pass or fail?
Well that would depend on my percentage wouldn’t it?
50.What were you doing at midnight last night?
It occurred to me yesterday – I’m certain I just pulled my fat ostrich head out of the ground at the age of 28 – that I’m the only one who can make myself beautiful. I’m also the only one who can both qualify and quantify that beauty.
Hmmmmm…no shit Sherlock, is probably your knee-jerk reaction BUT this is coming from a person who has spent most of her life thinking that other people decided if I was good enough, light enough, pretty enough, smart enough, good enough. And I’ve had enough.
I want to be beautiful. Not just physically but mentally, emotionally and most importantly spiritually. Especially spiritually. I miss feeling connected to the world around me, feeling connect to the powers that be. Feeling that void in me closed and having a sense of peace. Somewhere over the years, I’ve lost touch with that side of me.
I want to be able to assess a situation, think it over, really examine it before deciding how best to act. In other words, I’m tired of just re-acting. A blind, thoughtless response to just about everything and BOY IS THAT HARD TO CHANGE!
I want to feel secure in myself. I want to feel valid, and by that I mean that I want my feelings to matter. I want my voice to be heard, I want to feel “smart”, I want to feel all the great things that come with being contented with oneself. It’s also hard.
I know this road is not going to be easy, peasy and I know there’ll be many pitfalls along the way but I think it’s time I travelled it. I need to revisit my past, I need to make peace with my ghosts, I need to take those skeletons out of my closet and give them a proper burial. I have been putting this journey off for way too long and it’s time to stop.
So…here’s to the long road ahead and the adventures and stories that will come along the way.
Want is such a funny thing. It’s only really good while you’re doing it, or at least that’s how it is for me. I want something so bad that I get my stomach all tied in knots. I can’t wait for it, I must. have. it. now. Instant gratification, that’s where it’s at for me.
How do you get past that? How do you teach yourself how to be patient when you know how good it feels to get what you want right-friggin-now?
Hmmmm…another painstaking satisfying personal growth (read: torture) lesson…SIGH…when do they stop? When do we get to back to being ridiculous children who throw temper tantrums until our mothers get fed up with us and finally, just give in?