Dearest ex-Grandpa..... Setting the Record Straight

Dearest Ex-Grandpa...

I don't know where to start.

It has recently come to my attention why you abandoned us.  Apparently I had said something years ago about a coin collection that made you jump to a conclusion about us only wanting to know you for some kind of money or fortune.  I want to set everything straight.

I have no idea what the comment actually was.  I cannot tell you what I said.  Because whatever was said, was not important to me.  It was a comment in passing.  I do remember talking about you guys traveling and how much you enjoyed it.  That meant something to me.

What was important to me?  You.  My relationship with you.  My kids knowing you.  The man who helped raised their grandad, my father.  The man who I loved and called Grandpa. 

If you had any money at all, I didn't know and didn't care.  Still don't.  What's yours is yours.  I want no part of it.  Never did.  I have never been a person who cared about money, other than being able to pay our bills and take care of my kids.  As long as I am happily married and can take care of my kids, I don't care about much else.

When Grandma died, I took issue with you putting her jewelry box in front of us and telling us to go through it.  Remember?  I didn't want her things.  If anything, I wanted her chocolate chip cookie recipe.  Something I could share with my kids as a part of my childhood that brought me joy, that could also bring them joy, that they could pass down to their kids.  I didn't want her stuff.  Instead, I have no recipe and a necklace.  Whooptie doo.

I am grateful for the China.  I tell my kids it was hers.  It is displayed in my dining room.  But being grateful is not the same as wanting.

The only thing I EVER wanted from you was your love and attention.  That's it.  Even as a young girl I craved it.  But you doted on the middle girl.  Grandma on the youngest.  I was the eldest, the one who was given responsibility, but no favor.  I wasn't good enough for you or her.

I was so happy to be able to see her before she died.  To let her see Ralph's grand baby, her great grandchild.  I was happy for you when you found love again after her.  I liked Ada!  God Rest her soul.

That night you came here, I remember pulling my two very young kids out of bath, and rushing them to see you, keeping them up way passed their bed time.  But that didn't matter to you.  I remember talking and laughing.  I remember you making plans to cook the next day even though we told you that you didn't have too.  My kids were tired, but loved the adventure, the poodle, and the mobile home.  Emma sot of remembers.  Kaity does not.

Since then, we had another girl, Sara.  She is 8 now.  She is amazing.  She is our miracle.  She tested in the top 1% of intelligence in the nation!  And she's funny!!!  And Emma... has a slew of health issues and yet she is strong and perserveres.  She knows who she is, and 16 that's something.  She won't change for anyone.  She is a strong and stubborn and hilarious!  Bless her.  And Kaity?  She is funny and smart and popular.  There is so much you don't know about them, and you never will. 

Why?  Because you chose to take off and disappear instead of being a mature adult and talking about what concerned you.  You can keep whatever money you have.  We don't want a dime.  Never did.  Money isn't what is most important to me or us.  We value relationships above all else.  And our faith. 

We have had terribly hard times, including losing our home.  But it made us stronger.  And we are in an amazing place now where the future is bright and wide open.  But even if it wasn't, even when it wasn't, it was never any money you may or may not have had that mattered.  It was your love and support that was missed.

My kids do know about you.  And they know you are gone for good because you chose to leave for no reason.  I am thankful now.  They don't need a role model like you.  We teach our children to communicate when there is an issue.  Not run from it.  It isn't always easy, but it makes them stronger and helps them navigate the world better and will help them go further in life.

I always felt rejected by you.  In my childhood, and then again when you took off and abandon us.  You will never know the people we have become, the children we have had, or what really matters to us all.  Now I see the truth.  It wasn't us who was left out, it was you. 

You left.  And in doing so, you missed out on so much love and wonderfulness.  You made a choice to run instead of communicating.  And in doing so, you made assumptions that were not true and cost you a family that actually loved you. 

I feel like I am finally able to have some closure now.  You made a choice.  I know the reason why now.  And it was stupid and false.  And you didn't love us enough to talk about it.  You just ran like a coward.  Not something I would expect from a vet.

I thank you now, for leaving, and not having this kind of influence over my children.  I guess everything does happen for reason.  And since this is the kind of man you are, I am thankful you are not an influence on my girls.  I regret never feeling like I was enough  for you.  I regret mourning your loss in our lives.  You aren't worth it.  And apparently, you never were.

I can finally put this behind me.  I can finally move on.  I am sorry for all the time I wasted worrying over you, for you surely never looked back.

Not sure if you'll ever see this.  But it really doesn't matter.  What matters to me is knowing the truth and finally be able to move on.

Today's Headlines.....

This is a story.... fit for today's headlines.. only not.

I am a nobody!  I am not famous.  I have no claim to fame.  That said.. #metoo

I have several bad things to survive in my life.  But the one that haunts me, that I can't get passed, happened at a small party given by a close friend.  I got shitty dunk.  I did.  Eventually I found my way to my friend's bed   I was safe.  A man, we will call him B.  B and his family lived with me.  For some time.  I have blogged about a few different things .... but this one has always been the one I can't move past.   It was done by someone I trusted and thought of as a brother.

Before I tell it...again....  let me just say this..  This is not new story.  This is a time old story....



Took said "brother" to a party with me.  We were all friends.  I got drunk  Many got drunk and high.  I was against that.  I found my way to my friend's room to pass out..... with his blessing.  Bunk beds.  I was on the bottom.  "B" came in and asked to lay down next to me.  I made room.  Last of my clear memories. 


I awoke some time later screaming for friend Mike.  I had no clothes on from the waist down.  I was swore and hurting.  He came in and helped me find my clothes and comforted me.  He and several others confirmed one else was in the room that night. 

I felt humiliated.  I felt used.  Why couldn't I remember?  Why did my vagina hurt?  Where were my clothes?  This couldn't be happening! 

It took a lot of convincing....and a phone call to the hospital before I was able to shower.  Good tip...can't get a rape kit without police involvement.  "B" lived with us..... with his family.  His mom was my mom's best friend.  I couldn't do it. 

Finally I showered, laid down in "c's" room with him guarding me.  He gave me some pain pills and I cried myself to sleep.  In the morning "B" found another way home.

When I got home, I came clean.  I told family, mine and his, about the night before.  They ALL defended him.  He got home first. He told them we were both drunk and God knows what else. I was told it was my fault for drinking too much, in so many words.  Really?  I trusted him!!!  How was this my fault.  He had been living in MY HOME as a brother for over a year? 

I remember him talking and me saying goodnight.  Then waking up violated.  The thing is, we are seeing more and more that this is not an isolated thing, but rather a norm....if you will.  It has to stop.

Rape culture is real folks.  People want to defend the predators so their reality isn't changed.  It's too hard to face for them.  They can't even imagine what it's like to be the actual victim.  Just knowing one is too hard to fathom.  They don't know how to live in a reality of a world different then what they know.

My family hurt me beyond imaginable taking his side.  It took years for me to move past it.  And truth be told, it still hurts.  I choose to move passed it.  But I will never forget.  Ever.  Not what he did, and tried to cover up.  He knows "the truth I could tell".  I won't forget how they wanted to protect him rather than believe me.  I will never ever forget you cannot trust anyone.  I won't forget a loved one's words about how a drunk woman pretty much is responsible and asks for it.

This is just one of a few stories I could I tell.... the marine who wouldn't take no for answer, the pastor's son who molested me, being choked by a stalker, the co-worker how pinned me against an wall and fondled me.... And so on.  I am not special.  You have no idea how many woman/girls have lived though similar things or worse.  Truthfully, I am just one of millions....world wide. 

What about those married as child brides with no choice?  Those sex trafficked?  Those who thought their boyfriend loved them and took something from them without consent?  What about so many women/girls?

There are so many scenarios.....

To "B".... what you do if it was one of your daughters who came home after party with my story?  A man they trusted raped them while they were out cold with no memory?  They were too drunk and passed out to consent?

I pray you look at your past actions and atone for them.  I will never forgive you.  I knew you.  I lived with you.  I trusted you.  You were my brother.  And you hurt me.  God forgive me, but I don't know that I can ever forgive you because of who you were and what you meant to me.  I pray you daughters never know the pain. 

I still have nightmares. 

Men...boys.. if she is too drunk to stand needs to pass out, she is too drunk to consent.  If she is not conscious and talking, it's rape. 

Am I damaged?  Yes.  Many reasons why, but all my assaults....have me still thinking I am only a piece of meat.  I have no value.  And I am working hard on that.  Really hard.  But it affects so much of life.... even where you wouldn't believe.  How can I be a good mom when I am so very damaged and not worth respect or love?  And that is just one of hundreds of questions I ask myself daily.

What you do today has lasting effects.  Choose wisely. 

In hope

It's amazing how things can change.

I truly thought my marriage was over.  All was lost.  Blah blah blah.  I am sure you have heard it all before....

And yet...

Things are never as done as we think they are, are they?

We have a long way to go, for sure.  But I am thankful for what we have been through, for it gives us strength to get through this now.  And it is.  Every day we go stronger....individually and as a couple.  Every day we learn to love each other all over again.  Or at least I do. 

I understand the point the vows now.  Better or worse.  Sicker or poorer. And so on.  I promised myself to this man...not matter what.  And him to me.  We and have stayed together because of those vows...because of the kids....

Vows make you stick with it.  Even when it's easier to just give up.  It makes you try, one more time, even if you're not sure what is in your heart. 

That is marriage.  It is the good and blissfully wonderful.  And it's also the bad, ugly, and terrible you don't want to live through sometimes. 

But your vows... keep you pushing forward in the darkest of times.   They keep a hope in your heart. 

I don't know what my future holds anymore.  I really and truly don't. But I am thankful for the reminders of vows.  I am hopeful for my future, my family's future.  And I am committed to taking life one day at time.... in hope.

A Letter to "You" :

Dear You,

All my worst fears have come true.   We have tried to save this so many times.  But it never sticks.  So when this ends, I don't think it will be a surprise to you.  Although I am sure to you, it will be all my fault.

A marriage cannot survive when only one person tries.  You were never willing to put forth any effort unless I did so first.  And when work and games got in the way, and I felt neglected, I no longer felt like trying.  So you would just give up too, instead of fighting for us.  I was never worth your effort. 

I have lived through you screaming at me, cornering me, throwing furniture, that one New Year's Eve where I was lucky to wake up, lucky to have lived.  Between you and Chris E. from my past, I no longer can stand anyone putting anything around my neck.  I do try and wear necklaces, but it's so very hard now.  And most recently, when I was pushed to the ground and into a parked car, for trying to help you, I think that was it for me. 

I am not blameless.  Our fights only escalated over the years.  But I can no longer be the only one willing to try or put in effort first.  I can no longer live with the constant fighting and immaturity level.  And yes, I fight back now.   Which only makes you dislike me even more.  I don't just take it and cry.  I will never cry again.  Not because of you.  And I haven't cried because of you in a very long time.  I will no longer be made to feel like I am worthless unless I am wanted for sex. 

I will no longer stand for you emotional blackmail when arguments are not going your way and you can't handle the truth in front of you.  I am tired of you saying you will kill yourself when you just can't handle the truth.  I don't feel bad when you say that.  All it does is piss me off, because I let it make me feel bad for far to long.  It's just something you say to emotionally manipulate me and the situation.  Which is why the last time you "threatened" it, I told you to go ahead and do it.  I called your bluff.

I will no longer be subject all your broken promises and things you said you will do, but never do.  You are not now, nor have you ever been dependable or a man of your word.

This is not the life I wanted.  I wanted a husband who put me and our family first.  Not just financially, but in all areas.  All you could see were the dollar signs, as long as you were providing money, you figured you were doing your job.  There is more to being a husband and father than making money.

Don't get me wrong, we were grateful!  And still are and always will be.  Your sacrifice allowed the kids and me to have a good life outside of you.  But you weren't there emotionally.  You came home and checked out on to your computer or work.  You never made any family plans.  You never put us first except financially.

Is it any wonder that I fell out of love?  And as the years past, you did too.  But honestly, I don't think you were ever in love.

Did we make a mistake all those years ago getting married?  No.  I wouldn't trade our children in for anything.  Did we make a mistake staying together for so long?  I don't know.

I know you know this thing is on it's way out.  And I know you don't care.  If you did, you'd be trying.  But you aren't.  You are just wanting the misery to end and be over with, same as me.

I thought we were staying together for the kids.  That's what we both tell ourselves.  But are we really doing them any favors?  Maybe we are.  They have a good home, great schools, and lack for nothing.  So, we both do our best to pretend.

I am exhausted and tired of pretending.  I am tired of trying.  I am tired of having to be the first one to try, when I feel in my heart it should be you trying.  You trying to show me you do love and care for me outside of being the mother of your kids, or wanting to have sex.  But you could never do that.  Ever.  In almost 20 years of marriage.

My 40th birthday is coming up.  And the biggest present I can give myself is the truth, to face it head on and quit pretending anything is ever going to change or get better.  It never does. 

I think we both know this is over.  It's only a matter of time.

I wish you no ill will.  You have been a big part of my life for almost half of it.  I hope when the final nail is put in this marriage's coffin, we can walk away friends.  For the sake of our kids, for the sake of all we have been through together.  I will always love you, as you are the father of my children.  But don't we both deserve some happiness before it's too late?

I just can't do this much longer.  And neither can you.  Let's stop pretending and be honest with each other.  We owe ourselves and our family that much.

Rape and the way of the world.

God how I hate him.

Do you know?  Do you know or even care how you ruined my life?

You were like a brother to me.  And you knew it.  I called you my brother for Christ's sake.

When I was molested by the preacher's kid and his friend as a kid... I wanted to tell.  So bad.  But I was to scared and ashamed.

Then the marine at the party.... when I was in my late teens.  He didn't care to hear the word "no".  I tried to gloss it over.  But, it didn't work.  I tried not to believe it.  But which story was worse?  What he did to me?  Or the lie I told to try and believe it didn't happen?  When I finally tried to tell the truth, he didn't believe me.

Then there was you, Billy. My "brother", whom I loved as such.  You got drunk and smoked up that night.  I drank.  I drank  way too much.  I didn't do drugs and hated pot.  I went to pass out in my friend's bed.  A safe place.  Remember?  I know you do.

I remember you coming in and asking to lay down.  I trusted you.  How could you?  I remember we talked some... but then I went to sleep/passed out.  I remember waking up at one point, thinking you were touching me.  But you got still.  I thought it was just the booze messing with me and went back to sleep (passed back out).  I hazily remember you pulling out from behind cursing me under your breath.  Was that a bad dream?

No.  No it wasn't a bad dream.  I woke up... God only know when.... with my pants and panties missing.  Sore.

You raped me.  And you know it.

I screamed for help.  Mike came to my rescue and found my pants and panties.  Chris tried to get me to call the cops.  I called the hospital instead.  They wouldn't do a rape kit without calling the cops.  In my drunken state I thought I couldn't do this to my mom.  Her best friend's son.....  Chris finally let me shower, gave me pain pill and let me cry until I passed out while he kept watch.

I refused to give you a ride home the next day.  For the life of me I don't know why Mike gave you one.  When I got there, I was done holding my tongue.  Too many people in my life got away with hurting me.  Not just the one's named here, but a few others for other reasons.  I was done being a victim.  I finally confessed to my mom, and yours.  We lived together...all of us.

You had beaten me home.  You got them first.  You spun some kind of tale... I don't even know.  But they said you said you I might come home and blame you something.  And that you were too messed up.  And so was I.  I was literally told I may not be remembering things correctly.  And that whatever happened...IF... anything did (if... are you kidding me)....  it had to be my fault for drinking too.  They actually accused me of smoking up!  WTF!  Everyone knew that wasn't my thing.  It was the reason Lonnie and I failed.

Tell me this.... if you didn't do a damn thing wrong, why did you feel the need to go home and tell everyone something happened, but it wasn't your fault?  And why the fuck didn't anyone put that together?

You know what you did.  You know you raped me.  I was drunk. I was passed out.  And you didn't care.

You fucked up my life.  You were not some dumb kid.  You weren't a stranger.  You were my brother.  You lived in my home for a few years at this point.  Our moms were best friends.  How could you?

I forgave the preacher's son.  I have mostly forgave the marine ... the brother of a friend of a friend.  I mostly forgave my stalker who stole my car and my cat and threatened to rape to me and physically assaulted me and bullied me at school.  I have forgiven many people in my life... but you?  You I can't forgive. And I don't want too.  I trusted you.  I loved you like family.  How could you?

I tried to tell my story....and I wasn't believed.  I told my mom, yours (she lived with us and was there, but you got to them first didn't you?), and even my on and off again boyfriend.  I told him you hurt me.  You hurt me bad.  I cried each time I tried to tell my story.  It such a hard thing to admit too and tell.  No one believed me.

Congratulations.  You won.  Everyone wanted to believe you.  No one believed me.  Not one fucking person.  Except maybe Chris and Mike.  Mike being questionable...even though he was the one to find me in tears, screaming for help, and had to find my missing clothes.  The clothes I went to bed wearing and woke up missing.

The world... those I loved... wanted to believe you over me.  And the some still do.  Some still keep in touch with you.  But you and me?  We know different, don't we Billy Ray?  And deep down... so do some of them.

I understand why people don't come forward.  I tried, and no one believed me.  In my experience... I wouldn't advise any victim to ever come forward.  Ever.  Because if those who love you most don't believe you, who will?

You ruined my life.  I trust no one.  I can't watch certain movies or scenes because of you.  It brings back flash backs of spotty memory and pain.  I wake up from nightmares...even to this day.  I am scared to death for my 3 girls.  I try to warn them never to trust anyone...they think I am crazy.

You got the people I love to believe you over me, because you got them first.  And they never stopped to ask why that was.   My relationship with my mom and sisters is forever changed because of you.  You ruin lives, Billy.  That's what you do.

Am I crazy, Billy?  Am I?  The world was outraged at the guy who raped the passed out girl behind the dumpster.  Are you any better?  For raping a passed out girl in the bed next to you?   How come the world hates him, but loves you?  Wish I had some Swedish people to have saved me that night.

You are a fucking rapest.  Period.  The end.  You know it.  I know it.  I no longer need the world to believe me.  Because here's the thing... The truth is truth.  It doesn't change.  No matter what.  And you and I, we both know the truth.

I hate you.  I will always hate you.  I am suppose to forgive.  But I can't.  And I don't want too.  I want you to die a slow painful death.  But I'd settle for a long miserable life.

You are a monster.  You know it.  And I know it.  And no matter what the world chooses to believe, we know the truth.  You can't out run it.

The world is better off without you in it.  It's people like you ... you are the reason why people don't report more incidents of sexual assault and rape.

You are scum, a piece of shit.  You will never amount to thing because you are a loser who has to fuck passed out girls at parties in order to... what?  Get some?  Feel manly?  What?

Yes, Billy.  You fucked up my life and relationships (past and present).  But you weren't thinking of that were you?  Not when you had your dick inside a passed out girl.

I pray that your daughter never ever has to live through what you have put me through.  I pray she never knows the pain.  And never has the fucked up life that you have given me.

What would you do, Billy Ray, if someone did this to your daughter?

My life is forever changed because of you.  And not in a good way.  I pray I can teach my daughters so be more vigilant and never to trust a soul.  And I pray your daughter never knows this pain.

Fuck you Billy.  You spineless bastard.  You coward.  You rapist.

TMI: Venting

Ever just feel alone in the world?  I don't mean a life without people who care or love you.  I have that, or at least I believe I do.  I mean feeling like those around you just don't understand you.  You have those that put you in box.  And if you act outside that box they put you in, it throws them. 

Over the past few months I have noticed a trend in my life.  That I am put in a box.  I am expected to act a certain way, and if I don't, it throws people.  Even if other people we know act the same (or even worse).  Why is it okay for some and not for others? 

Sometimes I feel older than those my own age.  Other times I feel way less mature.  I never claimed to have it all figured out.  And sometimes I don't understand why others act like they do.  But I try not to judge.  I don't walk in their shoes.  Other times I just need to be a little less mature and more crazy and just let go some.  Sometimes I feel trapped by life.  Not that I don't love my life, I do.  But I think we all feel trapped every now and again.  And sometimes being a little less reserved helps to let off steam.

Things in my life are changing.  My relationships are changing.  Even those that I never thought would.  I was looking at a home for sale tonight that showed up in one of my feeds.  My daughter questioned me and asked if I would actually ever really leave our area and those we love.  There was a time in my life when there was no way I would ever consider such a thing.  Now, well.... My answer to her question was a resounding yes.  I'd leave in heartbeat if the opportunity presented itself.  I'd have no problem leaving.  And honestly, I don't think those who "closest" to me would have much of an issue either.  I can count on one hand those that would be hard to leave.  And doesn't cover the whole hand. 

Maybe I am just in a funk.  But lately, I feel like a change is needed in my life.  In ALL AREAS. 

I am ready to move to another city, state, country.  Whatever.  I don't think my absence here would make much difference to others.  But I think a new adventure might be good for me.  I don't know.  Sometimes I just need to talk it out and vent.  And I have no one in my life I can really do that with.  Not any more.  There is one amazing lady whom I just love.  But I find myself still somewhat guarded because of past experiences.

 I don't know.  Maybe it's just life again.  Changing.  I am no longer close to those I once was or understood by them.  My kids lives are jumping into major mile stones.  Maybe it's a midlife crises.  OH GOD!  LMAO

Truth is, times are changing.  Relationships are changing.  Everything is changing.  I am up to where ever the winds blows us as long as my husband and kids are by side.

True Randomness

I have so much going through me right now.  So much I can't give actual details too, and yet.... I have to get it out.

My family is going through so much right now.  We are in a time of turmoil, healing and growing.  And it sucks and yet, I have the highest hopes.

We are expecting visitors in a month's time.  And I am so excited to see them again.  Truly.  But They also have ties to someone who abandoned us and hurt us, with no just cause.  And as excited as I am to reconnect, I am also very weary.  It sucks to feel like this.

Then there is this amazing young women.. the daughter of an old childhood friend who lost touch with in the past 10 years or so.  This girl seems so amazing.  She reminds me so much of one of my own daughters in so many ways.  And love I have always had for her is still there and just as it has always been.  Thank God for the internet.  For I am finally able to see what a wonderful person she is.  I miss her mom terribly.  And yet I am so happy at the woman I see her daughter becoming.

Like I said, my family has our own issues.  And I feel torn between loved ones.  I pray I make the right choices.  I pray for healing in our home and family.

Life is crazy.  That's for sure.  It's a very bumpy, curvy ride.  But I am in it for long haul.  And I am all too thankful for those who are in it with me.

PULSE

I am so ... ugh! I don't think there are words accurate enough to describe how I am feeling. Sad? Outraged? Angry? I just can't pick one. 

 

By now everyone has heard about the shooting at the night club called Pulse in Orlando, FL.  The last time I checked the press reported 50 people dead, and 53 wounded.  When I found out about the shooting, my heart sank.  Then I found out why the shooting took place, and my heart broke (terrorist hit targeting gays).

And as if this tragedy wasn't horrific enough, people decided to go online and start tweeting about it.  And it was ugly.  Click Here to see what I mean  I am sitting here blogging this because I have so many thoughts and emotions on this, and I need a way to unjumble the mess of thoughts and emotions going through me.

One of the thoughts flying around my mediocre brain is this:  Doesn't everyone know that it isn't just the gay community at the gay clubs?  Back in my clubbing days, straight people went to the gay club all the time.  It was a place to dance and not get hit on.  It was a place to enjoy your gay friends.  Just like how any club not deemed a "gay" club has gay people in it on any given night, the gay clubs also have a straight people in it.  Because so many people don't care about labels.  We judge people on their personalities and whether or not they are good people, instead of lifestyles, religion, or anything else you can discriminate against.  

But it goes deeper this.  The hate, the absolute abhorrent hate and lack of compassion make my blood boil, as if it is okay it kill people because they are gay.  What if someone who's religion decided that all blonds had to die, that they were instruments of the devil to seduce people?  Would that be okay?  Or what if someone decided Jewish people were a stain on the betterment of mankind and had to be killed?  Oh wait, that happened.  Or what if people decided that the color of your skin decided your place in society, and if you were not white, you were a lower class and had no rights, and could be killed just because you weren't white?  Oh, wait.  That happened in our history too. 

 

You see, there is no difference between the scenarios I listed and what happened at Pulse.  It's plain hate.  And what really gets in my crawl, is that some people don't even realize that.  They feel justified and hide behind religion.  You know, kinda the same way the shooter did.  In fact, this kind of religious "justification" makes those people no different than shooter.  

You don't have to agree with others to show kindness and compassion.

Since we are on to religion, I will say this:  The God that I worship did not rejoice in these killings.  He wept.  And he continues to weep at the lack of love and compassion humanity has.  

 

The shooting at Pulse gives us a very sad look into the pulse of humanity.   And I am troubled.  I am saddened.  I am enraged.  I am so many things.  

My heart goes out to all the victims of Pulse shooting and their families.  I pray they find some comfort in the days ahead.

RAPE CULTURE

In the headlines again is another sexual assault case.  The Brock Turner case.  In case you aren't aware of it yet, here is the summary:

Stanford Party.  Girl gets way too drunk and passes out behind a dumpster, where Brock Turner finds here.  He takes off her cardigan, pulls up her bra, and throws her panties to the side.  Two men on bikes pedal by and and see him on top of her thrusting away.  She has no memory of it.  She awakes in the ER to be told what has happened to her.  She has injuries.  Brock Turner only got 6 months in jail and probation for his crime.  The country is horrified.  His father said it was a tough sentence for twenty minutes of action.  Seriously.  He said that.  Brock was athlete, a swimmer.  He lost his scholarship too.  The whole thing has everyone talking.  To read all the articles online, you see how the woman was victimize and yet the court was more worried about this young man's future than what had happened to her.  It's terrible.  And you know what?

I feel for her.

I was her.  Only I didn't press charges.

I was at a party a while back.  I was a teenager.  I was at a close friends apartment and knew just about everyone there.  I even brought a friend with me.  He was more like family, than a friend.   I drank underage and drank way too much.  I went to my friend's bedroom to lay down.  I remember the guy I brought with me asking if he could lay with me.  I felt safe.  I passed out.

I woke up some time later with NO clothes on the bottom half of my body.  I was sore.  I started screaming for help and crying.  My friends helped me find my clothes.  We called the hospital to ask about rape kit.  I couldn't have one without filing a police report.  I was scared.  That was the last thing I wanted.  Police.  Court.  No.  I just wanted to shower.  It took some convincing, but my friends finally let me shower.

I don't think I ever scrubbed myself so hard in all my life.  I cried the entire time.

Afterwards I retired to another bedroom where my friend stood watch over me all night.  He gave me some medicine for pain, and I cried myself to sleep.  I left the next morning, and left the guy I thought was family there to find his own ride home.  Oh yeah... no one kicked him out.

I was a wreck.  I didn't know what to do. I told my mom,who was best friends with his mom, and she was there too.  I just kept crying and said he hurt me.  I was asked if I was sure.  I was told he admitted to partying too much that night (he not only drank but did some drugs as well.  Something I was not into.  And who talks to their mom about this stuff before hand if they don't think they did anything wrong?  Isn't that called damage control?)  I was asked that maybe it didn't happen like that.  That maybe my drinking meant that maybe I had consented and... ???   Yeah.  He was the one being defended.  I was the one no one believed.  Forget that I was wreck.  Forget there were witnesses who said he was the ONLY one in that room with me, and had to help me find my clothes, and soothe me.  No no.  It was my fault.  I should not have drank so much (forget he did too, on top of drugs).  This was my fault.  I must not be remembering correctly.  Forget those who knew... who were there...who saw my pain and panic and tears.  Let me tell you something... life's a bitch.

At first I had wished I had gone ahead and went to the hospital and pressed the charges.  But then I realized that if those closest to me didn't believe me, why would the courts?  To this day he is free man.

I HATE HIM.  I trusted him.  I thought of him like a brother.  And he violated me.  And no one cared.  No one but the two men who helped me find my clothes, watched over me, kept me safe and begged me to go the hospital.

The guy who did this to me has never apologized, never felt remorse, never looked backed.  He didn't care about how what he did affected me.  He doesn't care that when something triggers me it effects me for weeks.  WEEKS!!!  Even to this day!

After this assault, I thought myself a victim.  It took years, YEARS, to push past this.  To push past all of this, and realize I was not a victim.  I was a survivor.  I was actually stronger than I thought.  The sad fact is though, when something triggers me, I feel like a victim all over again.

This kind of thing becomes a part of you.  It changes you in ways you can't even explain.  It becomes a part of who you are.  It's a sick and disgusting thing.  And it's now a part of you.  It shapes how you see others, how you trust, how you see yourself and any self worth you thought you had.  It's sad when 20 years later you still can't see certain scenes in movies or shows because it triggers nightmares.  It triggers all the feelings of helplessness, pain, sorrow, anger,.... so many things.  It NEVER goes away.  Like I said, it becomes a part of you.  You can forget after some time.  But when you least expect it, something will trigger you again.  And it takes quite a while to get back to normal again.  First months, then eventually weeks.   It never really goes away.   I still have issues with self worth.

You see, what this poor woman went through with Brock Turner, is not an exception.  It happens every day.  Every day women are assaulted and no one believes them.  They make them out to be at fault.  IT'S NOT THEIR FAULT!!!  I was in jeans and shirt.  What a woman is wearing does not matter.  If a woman cannot talk, she cannot consent.  A passed out woman is not asking for it.  Neither is one who isn't passed out.

We have to stop blaming the victims.  We need to start holding these predators accountable for their actions.

I no longer trust people like I use too.  My now loving husband had to nurse me through my nightmares (which I still have when triggered).   Seeing all this in the news and on social media has brought back all the pain again.  I don't sleep (not that I was sleeping all that well anyway).  I wake up having nightmares all over again.  Feeling the shame, the pain, the panic, the anger.   I worry about my daughters.  Because I know all too well that those you trust can hurt you in the worst ways.  This is something I carry with me.  I cannot watch certain scenes in movies without flashing back to this night (and a few other assaults I have endured).

I hate what happened to this woman.  I understand her pain.  I hate that Brock Turner got a light slap on the wrist for forever changing this woman's life.  I admire her for having the courage to do what I could not.

Let's stop blaming victims.  Let's start really letting these perverts, these predators, know that they are at fault.  And that we as society will no longer stand idly by and just let them do this.

Randomness

Tonight is full of Random thoughts.

For one.... I am ready to leave this neighborhood.  I find most of the people here judgmental and pretentious.  Not all of them, but most of them.  Even some I thought I knew.  But hey, that's life.

For another... I have realized I am a hot mess.  I don't have all the answers.  I don't have it all together.  And you know what?  THAT IS OKAY!!!  I think most of us don't.  But we all feel like we need to act like we do.  Why?  To impress others?  In the hope that others won't judge us?  Guess what?  People are gonna judge you no matter what.  And most of those that do, don't know the journey you have been on.  They don't know your history.  And they don't care.  They feel better thinking they are better than you with what very little they do know.

I am finally learning (yes, a little late in life) that it does not matter what others think of you.  Truly.  You know who you are.  Those that do you know you, love you, just as you are.  And that is all that matters.  Everyone else can kiss your ass.

It's never a fun thing to take a long look at your life, who is in it, and how it's going.  It can hurt to realize that those you considered a friend, may not actually be friends.  That is never a fun realization to come to.  Trust me.  But it's worth it.

I have spent the last month or so really looking over my life and who is in it.  I am so thankful for those I love and trust, and who accept me as I am.

I am done trying to make new friends and acquaintances.  I am happy in my life.  I am happy with who is in it.  And they are all I need, and all I want.

This may sound bitchy.  Oh well.  When you have walked in my shoes, been judged, and rejected... you will understand.

I plan on spending my summer with my family and my true friends.  God love them for loving me.  And God knows how much I love them.

I am who I am.  I don't try to be anything else.  I am flawed.  I own that.  I would rather be that... be me... be honest... than pretend.   I am a mother who loves her kids.  I am a mother who screws it up sometimes.  I am a wife who is in love with her husband and is devoted to him.  I am a good friend who you can lean on and keeps secrets and is loyal.  I am both a hot mess and grounded person.  I know, a conundrum, right?  Yet true.  In some ways, I am still trying to figure it all out.  And in other ways, I realize there is no figuring it all out.  There is just living, and making memories, and being the best you that you can be in any given moment.  And yes, sometimes, you fall short of that.  And that's okay too.

I am releasing myself of the obligation of getting to know others and trying to be friend to all.  I am releasing myself of thinking that you must be liked.  I am owning who I am instead.  I will embrace it.  I am once again at that point where I no longer give a shit what others think of me.

This is a very freeing thing.  It's also a scary thing.  For everyone wants to be liked.  Everyone hates rejection.

I love fun.  I love laughing.  I love making memories.  I think family comes first.  And I also think some familly is not blood related.  I love to eat good food.  I love good wine.  I love to hang out with others I can joke with, laugh with, or be serious with; all in a short amount of time.  I love all kinds of music.  I love poetry.  I hate politics.  I adore art in all its forms.  I often quote movies and songs.  And I adore those that sing along with me or understand the quotes.  I believe in 2nd chances.  I believe in helping others.  I could go on, but what's the point?  Those that know me... know me.  Those that don't, judge me.  God bless'em.

Life is short.  This is the ONLY one you get.  Be true to you, but always be willing to learn and improve.  Never be afraid to take a chance on something good.  Make good choices.  Make good memories.  And always let those you love, know it.

Scars

Sometimes horrible things happen in life.  You can't change it.  You think you have survived it.  You think have moved on.  And then... a show.. .a movie.. a word... a dream....  It brings it all back.  The wound is ripped opened yet again.  The scab you thought had healed that wound, wasn't what it seemed.  In fact, you have a scar.  A scar is a reminder of what was.  You may forget it's there sometimes, but eventually something makes you remember again.  The pain comes rushing back.  The memories you have tried to block.  Scars are a constant reminder of what once was. 

Scars suck.  Especially certain ones that may not always be seen.  But you know what else scars mean?  They mean you survived. 

To all those with scars.... Those who remember and want to forget.  To those who survived.  We may be haunted, but we live.  May our children never know the pain.

One of those nights....

Easter this year is hard.  Flash back 1989 ... Easter....  I remember looking at my dad's empty seat at the table. Almost the entire family was there afterwards.  I remember the priest.  I remember my mom's words.  I remember being told my dad would not make another 24 hours.  He didn't.  He died the next afternoon.  This Easter is the 27th anniversary of his death.

I have never hated any holiday more than I do Easter.  I know what it means... Christian wise.  But I still hate it.  It's hard to make this day good for my kids when even to this day... I hate it.  But I try.  I like to think I do good by them.

God help me.  God help us all.

Looking Back.......

Christmas is in a few day, and the new year is upon us.  And I am looking back over my year, my life. 

I can honestly say I think this is the best year I have had in ... 15, 20, ? years.  I really don't know how long it's been.  But I feel very safe in saying it's been decades.  That's not to say I haven't had good years, or bad years.  I have my fair share of both.  We all have.  But I can't remember having one this good in that long.  That's saying something.

One of my girls had it rough the past few years.  And she is finally coming into her own.  She knows who she is (more than most girls her age do), knows where she has made mistakes and has learned from them.  She has turned a corner.  She smiles, she laughs.  She is the happiest I have seen her in 2 or so years.  And when your kids are happy, you are happy.  She lights up life.  All my girls do.  I am one proud momma.

And then there is my marriage.  I have made it no secret in the past that we had our issues.  I am convinced several years ago I was going through some kind of mid-life crisis.  We lost our home, we rented a place and met some great people, and some crazy people.  I had just had my third child.  I felt lost.  My marriage was struggling.  And all I knew was I was mom.  I struggled with who was outside that title of "mom".  It's not that I wasn't happy being a mom.  I was.  But I felt a sort of loss too at the same time.  As if somewhere along the road of marriage and kids, I lost who I was.  And I didn't know who that was anymore. 

My husband understood to a point.  He allowed me to go out with some single friends of mine once every few weeks.  And I also went out with a group of moms a time or two.  It was nice to go out, and pretend to be young again. To know my kids were safe with my husband, and just .... live.  I know that sounds lame.  But that's how it felt at the time.  Like in getting married and starting our family early, I some how missed out on experiences in my younger years.  Looking back, I think I tried to make up for "lost time". 

Looking back on it, I see what a waste of time it was.  Because the truth of the matter was, all I was looking for and needed was at home.  We had our issues, but it was there if I could just look past my hurt long enough to see it.

I made some choices during that time I deeply regret.  However, I also learned a lot during that time.  My husband fought for us, during that time.  We weren't a good place, and he was giving me space.  But he also fought like hell for me.  He told me he wasn't letting me go.  He made a vow and he was going to keep it.  And that we could work through anything.  And he started trying, even though I know put off mixed signals.  One minute I loved him for loving me and fighting for us.  The next all I could focus on was our issues and my hurt.  It was a rocky time for several years for us.

But you know what?  We did it.  First he fought us.  And about the time he got fed up, I started fighting for us.  We never both fought for us at the same time.  How sad is that?  I mean we had talks through the years, tried to work things out, and always ended up back on the same merry-go-round.  It was exhausting. 

So what changed?  Why was this year so different?  Where did the merry-go-round go?  The truth is, I don't know.  I can tell you this, I was done.  I was finally done trying to fix it.  I was done with all the talks.  I was done praying for him to come around, change, see things a certain way... or however you choose to fill in that rather long blank space. I had fought for us for years.  I had prayed for years.  And I was just done.  I truly wanted change no matter what.  I wanted us to be happy again.

So I changed my prayers one night.  I started praying for God to forgive me all the hurt I caused, and for Him for me forgive myself.  I prayed that he would help my husband forgive me.  And most of all, the prayer I still say to this very day....  I prayed that He would help me be the spouse he created me to be for my husband.  There were no more prayers about changing him.  This was about me.  No matter if I thought he was to blame or not (needless to say, he most likely thought I was to blame as well.  In truth, we were both responsible for the break down in our marriage to some degree).  But it wasn't about who was to blame or who needed to change the most.  It was about our marriage and the future of our marriage.  All that mattered to me in the moment of that prayer, was that we make it.  And I would be willing to do whatever to make it happen.

I still pray that prayer.  I never told him I prayed it.  Not for months.  It wasn't until one day he told me he noticed a change in me and thanked me for all my support and understanding over the last few months I told him.  It wasn't me, it was God.  I just simply prayed that God help me be the spouse my husband needed to be and that I was created to be for him.  He was very surprised by that I admitted that.

I do believe that is what changed my marriage around and gave us such a good year.  I started listening to that still small voice when it told me to let something go, or to forgive, or to give it to Him.  I listened when it said send a encouraging email or text.  And slowly as my wonderful, patient, loving husband saw the changes in me (before I confessed my secret), he started to respond with his own changes.  Things just started clicking.

We have both grown over this last year.  We have many blessings, and we have faced quite a few obstacles.  But we did it smoother than ever.  We still have our issues from time to time.  Who doesn't?  But we work through them better.  We communicate better.

So tonight, as I look back over the years, I hate to see the pain we both felt and caused.  I hate to remember some of the choices we made.  But I am so very thankful for where we are now.  It made it all worth it.

For anyone out there going through a rough a time, don't give up.   If you are a person of faith, pray for guidance.  Believe me when I say we (hubby and I) have been through hell and back.  It is possible to come out on the other side all the better.  And believe me when I say if you feel lost in life, you aren't gonna find yourself out drinking and partying.  That is not you.  You aren't missing a thing!!  That is NOT what life is about.  When you are on your deathbed, you aren't gonna give two shits about how much you went you out, how much you partied, how much "fun" you had.  What is going to matter is the love you had and shared.  Your family.  And the memories with those who truly know you and care about you.  You will regret the hurt you caused those you love.  You will regret not forgiving more.  At least, that is the conclusion I came too.  Life is about love.  About sharing it with others, and learning to receive it.  It is in that love that you make your memories.

I thank God for my really good year.  And I pray for more ahead.

The Kids Table

Growing up, whenever there was huge family gathering, there was the "kids" table.  I'm sure many out there know what I'm talking about.  All the adults got to sit together at the fancy table.  Us kids, we got put in the kitchen, or the basement, or even a hall with extra table.   And no, it was the furthest thing from fancy.  Especially to us kids.

Growing up we all couldn't wait to be invited to the "adult" table.  Then we would be taken seriously.  Then we'd be important.  We never really stopped realize what having a seat at the adult table would mean.  It wasn't just a matter of adding a chair.  That table was packed full!  It was a matter of a spot vacating. 

Our "kids" table fed many of us at one point.  There was me and my two sisters and 6 other cousins.  So 9 isn't too bad. 

Sadly, as the years progressed, it wasn't just the adult table that lost people,  our table lost people at it as well.  I lost two cousins way too soon.  Both in separate car accidents, years apart.  Their loss is still felt to this day.  The adult table lost my dad, and two uncles to divorce.  We also gained an uncle.  And we recently lost both my grandparents.

As this Thanksgiving approaches, I am again thinking of the "kids" table.  I am still at it.  And so is my husband, my two brother-in-laws, a cousin-in-law (when in town) and one soon to be cousin-in-law, who is already considered family.   We have gained numbers.  lol  Which really means we have gained love.  We're a big group now, us at the "kids" table.

There is still the "grown up" table.  And yet we still remember them, and smile when we think of them.  And their spirit is still with us, even if their chair is empty.

And now we have a new "kids" table. a "grandkids".  My 3 girls sit at it, my 2 nieces, and when my cousin is in town... her son as well (and one day her new baby girl will as well). 

Yes, we have 3 separate tables to fit us all.  And yes, we all fit. That's a lot of people.  That's a lot of love. 

As we sit at our table (my sisters, and me and my hubby, and my cousins and their loved ones),  we joke about the different tables now.  We smile, we laugh, we swap stories.  We enjoy each other and the food.  But we also glance at the "adult/grown up" table.  We notice the missing the spots.  We realize that there will be more missing spots in the future.  Eventually we all finally be at that table.  And you know what, I don't think we look forward to it anymore.  We look at that table now and smile at our loved ones, happy they are still here.  Silently being thankful that we are not yet at that table.

The kids table.  It once seemed like a curse or somehow demeaning (because as kids that you saw things).  And now, I don't think any of us want to leave it.  And as those of us with kids look down upon the "grandkids" table at our kids, we know what they are thinking.  We know how they feel.  And we know that one day, they too will be all to glad to be at that table. 

What Does It Mean To Be A Mom?

The question in the title has perplexed me for years.  What does it mean to be a mom?

When I was little, all I wanted to do was grow up, get married, and be a mom.  Back then my mom was the most perfect, loving person in the whole world.  And I wanted to be just like that.

As I got older, it took on different meanings.  At one point "mom" was the person I could I count on to help me with homework, make my favorite meal, change Dad's mind, or fix my boo boo's and illnesses.  But then "mom" changed.

In my world, my mom suddenly, and unexpectedly, also became sole bread winner and provider.  She became wounded, strong, and brave; all at once.

I learned a lot from my mother without her even knowing or trying.  She taught me love by loving me even at my worst.  She taught me compassion by taking in the family that suddenly found themselves without a home.  She taught me sacrifice and hard work.  She taught me responsibility.  She taught me that there are times in life when you pick your battles.  Not every fight you are invited too is worth it.

Then something amazing happened.  I fell in love, got married, and became a mother.  And everything I thought I knew about being a mom changed again.

I would love to say I that I loved my husband unconditionally from the start.  But that just simply wasn't true.  Life had damaged me.  It wasn't until I became a mother I truly learned the meaning of unconditional love.  And it actually taught me to love my husband better.  Being a mom taught me that you can be upset with someone, and still love them more than anything.  And you know what comes with unconditional love?

Sacrifice.  Being mom taught more about sacrifice then I thought I learned from my suddenly widowed mom.  And believe me when I say she sacrificed A LOT.

I learned that being a mom is more just than the big sacrifices... not getting that new car so you can help your kid go to college.  Or working extra to help pay for the their hobbies.  Or staying up late to type up the research paper they worked on (with your help) after getting home late from work so they can get some rest.

Being a mom means sacrificing sleep.  And not just when they are babies.  It means when they are sick at age 5 you stay awake praying for them.  It means "sleeping" on the floor next to their bed, 6 months pregnant because they keep having nightmares you being there fixes it.  It means waking up numerous times to check on sick kids, or administer medicines throughout childhood.  It means staying up stressing over things they worry about, or putting the finishing touch on their project, or like previously mentioned... praying for them.

Being a mom means putting yourself last.  Not just after birth either.  But until the day you die.  They want your sweet snack, you share it.  They want to watch their favorite show with you (even though you have watched it 25 times at least with them, and your show is coming on), you do it.  They want to sleep with you because of..... fill in the blank  (bad dream, sick, can't sleep, afraid of the dark, or so on).... you do it.  Even though it means they will be all over you, kicking you, hitting you, all night long.  You still let them do it.

You will read that book you know by heart (and secretly have a love/hate relationship with) to them AGAIN.  And so much more.

Being a mom means putting yourself last.  Oh wait, you're sick and with a fever?  Too bad.  Your kids need you.  You still have to feed them, dress them, help them with homework, and so on.  Not to mention throwing that last load of laundry in because that one shirt is really needed for picture day tomorrow.  Oh snap!  Picture day!  You know your sick as anything, and won't sleep well, but you will still have to get up in the morning and help them get ready for this all to important day. 

Being a mom means making meals you hate because it's one of the few things your picky eater will eat.  And... you eat it.  Because you want them to eat.  Because it's important to have family meals.  It's important to teach them (when they are a bit older) that life sometimes means doing things you don't like or want to do.

Being mom means being a maid.  You clean up the same mess more times than you have hairs on your entire head.  You will do their laundry, their dishes.  You will organize their clothes and switch them out with seasons, and they will never notice. They will never thank you.

Being a mom means being a personal shopper.  You must know your children's wants and likes, and sizes.  And you must not screw this up or get them confused with their spouses.  Trust me.

Being a mom means being a great organizer.  You must know who has what field trip, what teacher, what project do when, what hobbies or clubs on what days.  And you must schedule it all out so nothing messes up your family harmony.

Being a mom also means things that you never thought of.  Like having your heart ripped from your body when you can't "fix it".   When my daughter was 2 months old, with a fever of 105, in the hospital and it was all up to her.... I couldn't fix it.  I worried.  I prayed.  I couldn't fix it.

When my other daughters went through the heartbreaks of moving and leaving friends, it hurt me too.  And when they went through the terrible hurt of losing what you thought was your best friend... a bitter betrayal... I hurt with them.  And I felt guilty.  Because moms are suppose to make things better, and I couldn't.  I couldn't fix it.  And the pain of seeing your children in pain (physically, emotionally, mentally, it doesn't matter) feels like someone is ripping your heart from your chest.  It is a pain special unto itself and unlike anything else.  I promise.  And it will come upon you several times a year with each child.  When they hurt, you hurt.

Being a mom means teaching your children morals, life lessons, responsibility, how to take care of themselves, and how to care about others.  You have to teach strength and compassion.  You have teach self reliance and that it's okay to ask for help when they need it.  You have teach them obedience while encouraging them to be true to themselves.  Being a mom is full of conundrums like these.  Let alone teaching kids to control their temper, be polite, to help others, etc. 

And yes, being a mom means never showering or using the toilet alone again.  (and yes, my 13 yr old will still find me in the shower and come talk to me from time to time).  They will find you.  They will want to talk to you.  And forget having a phone conversation!!!  You pick up that phone and all of sudden they need you for everything!  Or little Suzy fell down or little Johnny flushed his favorite toy car down the toilet.  I think mom's love texting more than teens do.  It's the only way we can converse sometimes.  And every mom knows that it's okay if you don't answer back right away.  Because let's face it, kids happen.

Being a mom means skipping showers from time to time.  Mostly when they are little.  But still, you have to do it.

Sometimes it is hard to draw the line between mom and woman; or mom and wife.  That is something all new moms must learn.  And it's not easy trying to figure out how to be a mom for the first the time, and still figure out how to still be you and a good spouse.  Finding time for yourself is crazy hard.   

Being a mom is not easy.  It's down right hard work.  And it's so sad that society beats us moms up.  We even do it to each other.

"Oh, you stay at home?  What do you do all day?  What I wouldn't give to be able to do that!  Life of leisure!"  (HARDLY!!!  Stay at homes often make financial and personal sacrifices that the working moms just don't understand..... or society for that matter).

Or how about:

"Oh, you work?  Do you not love your kid enough to raise them right?  Is money that important to you?  Are you that selfish?"  Yes, society and other moms do think these things sometimes.

And God bless the singles moms who do it all alone.  They are angels.

And you know what?  Truthfully...IT'S EXHAUSTING!!!  Being a mom is hard work.  For both the stay at home mom and the working mom.  You will never feel more tired in all your life.  I promise you.  But, at the same time, you will never feel more fulfilled, more loved, and more important.   Because what we do matters.  We are shaping the future with how we raise our children.  They are such precious treasures.  And I truly believe there is no more important job than being a mom.  And you seldom will ever receive a "thank you" for all you do actually do, that they take for granted.  And yet, you wouldn't have it any other way.  Why?  Because you love them.

So God bless the mothers!!!  Where would we be without them?

SUICIDE

I can't believe I am typing this.....


I am almost 38 years old.  And I have attempted suicide 2x in my life. 

Once was in high school.  I had this guy that stalked me, harassed me, and threatened me.  It got so bad, even my best friends left me.  I found myself all alone.  I tried to cut my wrists.  But damn it hurt.  It got infected.  I told everyone it accidentally slammed in a locker.  Most bought it.  In high school no ones wants to be around drama.  And he made my life drama.  If they thought it was being a friend to someone going through it.... well.  I wish they would have put their selves in my shoes for just 5 minutes.  But at 16/17 years old, the world only revolves around you.  So I lost everyone.  That was my first attempt.

My second attempt was just approaching my one year anniversary of marriage.  Yup.  You read that right.  Our schedules were so different.  I felt so lost and alone.  My husband and mom saved my life. Quite literally.

I am not going into great detail, obviously.  But I have attempted 2 times in my life.  The last time left me in the hospital fighting for my life and facing some psychologist.  To this day I think they were too tired by 5 a.m. to really see the holes in my story.  Who lets someone go home who tried OD on pills and booze while trying to cut their wrists.... every way possible?  Yeah.  I was serious.  I was done hurting in life.  I wanted to die.

Anyway..... I digress.......


I am now almost 38 years old  My marriage has been to bottom and come back.  I have 3 awesome children.  I still struggle in life from time to time.  But I can tell you this....  Life DOES get better. 

Someone out there will love you... just how you are... damaged and all.

Someone out there will see you more than just a sex object.

You will find people who really do give a shit about you!!!  (not in high school though...)

You are worthy of love!

You are beautiful!!!  Just how you are!!!

Don't give up hope!!! Life may be hard now (ok... so it down right sucks now), but I promise you it does improve!!!

I have an amazing relationship with my same husband now.  I have 3 amazing kids.  Life isn't always easy... trust me.  But I can't imagine doing life without any of them.  I have finally accepted love... true love.  And I have learned to love unconditionally.  It's easy to learn to love.  It's hard to accept love... real love... for yourself.  Especially if you don't love yourself.  How could anyone really love you?  You are so damaged!  Right?

I am here to tell you, don't give up!!!  Life DOES improve!!!  I promise!!! 

And in case you say our stories are very different.... let me tell you...

I was molested by a preacher's son
I have been raped... more than once
I have been in relationships that were emotionally and physically abusive and manipulative.
I lost my dad when I was 11.
I was stalked, harassed, and threatened.  I was slandered and rumors started... yeah.
I lost all my friends at one point and was completely alone in the world (or it at least felt that way.  I guess what I was going through was too much for them.  Hell the last half of my Jr. year and most of my Sr. year my theme song was Kiss Off Into the Air by Violent Femmes....and yes... I tried to OD a few times but never actually did it.)

There is not much in life I have not lived through.  And it has taken time to forgive a lot of people.  But I have learned this:  Forgiveness is for you, not them.  It doesn't let them off the hook.  It just frees you from the hate, bitterness, and so on.  It frees you.  God will deal with them.

I still have some demons, but I can tell you this... NOTHING is worth your life.  Your life is an amazing gift.  Even if it doesn't feel like it right now. 

Don't give up hope.  Please.  Seek help.  Confide in a friend or family member.  Call the hotlines.  You are worth it.  Your life is worth it.  You are amazing!!!  And your life will get better.  I promise.  Just don't give up!!! 

From survivor to another (b/c trust me.... you ARE a survivor), life is worth it.  It DOES get better.   And with any luck... one day... you'll face these demons and beat them... and hopefully be able to help someone else.  But even if that isn't the case.... I can promise you it does get better.  You are worth it.  And love .... true love.... truly does exist.   It does.  Don't give up.  Please. 

I know what it's like to hurt so damn bad all you want is for it stop hurting....at all cost.  I know what it is like to feel completely alone in world.  I know what it is like to feel unlovable, to feel too damaged.  I know what it's like to feel like no one will ever understand.   I know what it's like to feel trapped by your life.  And I know what it feels like to just want to stop hurting...... at all costs.  No matter the cost.  I KNOW. 

Please... I beg of you... if you are thinking of ending your life.... reach out for help.   I know it's hard to believe.  I know you can't believe it right now.  But it DOES get better.  You are stronger than you think!!!  I promise!!!

Don't give up.  If I would have given up I would not the wonderful marriage or 3 awesome kids I have today (6 kids if you include dogs.  lol)  Life isn't always fun or easy now.  But it's worth it.  And I have people now that support me and love me.  For me.  Period.  And life is so worth it now.  All of it. 

I encourage all of you looking to for a way to escape the pain, to seek help.  There is NO shame in that.  I promise. 

Life does get better.... sometimes we need a little help to get there.  And that's okay.  ;)  It's those of us who have lived through the tough times that can truly appreciate the good ones.  We have something special to show the world..... how to overcome and love in spite of life and it's cruelty.  We aren't "role models".... but we know what life can deal out.  And we know, eventually, that we are more life's circumstances.  We are more than the hurt.  We are amazing.

The Day My Life Was Forever Changed

I am not sure.  Maybe I have had the guts to put this down before.  Maybe not.  And if I am honest, it was more than just a "day" that changed my life.

I grew up in a very loving home.  I had a mom and dad who loved each other.  They were high school sweethearts.  And I had 2 younger sisters, and oh God... the pet.  We had 2 dogs, hamsters, birds and fish.  No wonder they wouldn't get us a pony.  lol 

Flash forward to February of 1989.  I was 11.  My sisters were, 9 and 6.  My father got sick.  He was sick for what seemed like forever to a kid, but in all honesty, it was probably more like 2 weeks or so.  I am talking not getting out of bed sick.  We thought he had a cold.  Then we thought possibly the flu.  It was time for him to get some serious help.

I remember the day like it was yesterday.  He was standing on the landing in front of the front door in his blue robe and jammies.  My sisters and I all gathered around to hug him and love on him.  We were told he was going to the hospital to get better.  I remember hugging him and telling him good bye.  He replied, "Don't say good bye, say I love you".  I did.  That was the last time I ever say my father.

He went to the hospital and he did start to heal.  But just before his release he got a horrible headache.  That was it.  He ended up suffering a brain aneurysm.  He was hospitalized over a month.

I remember Easter that year.  It was March 26.  Easter Sunday.  All our family came to visit.  And I mean all our family.  We lived in Virginia at the time.  And our family from in state, out of state, and from Germany; all came.  I remember staring at his empty place at the supper table during Easter dinner.  It was the worst Easter dinner of all time.  Something wasn't right.  Everyone kept starring at that empty chair.  Something in the air wasn't right to me.

After supper, we all gathered at my house.  My mom had our priest come to the house to visit with us.  I remember him asking us if we had any questions after a short talk with him about God's love.  Then my mother called us over to her on the couch.  My entire family around.  I remember feeling so scared.  Something didn't feel right.  That's when she said, "This is probably the hardest thing a mother ever has to tell her children....".  I remember starting to tear up and shaking my head no.  I am not sure if I actually said "No, don't say it!" out loud or not.  But I know I was definitely thinking it.

She told us that the doctors said my dad wasn't doing ever going to come home again.  They didn't think he live through the following day.  Everything after that is kind of a blur.   I ran to room to cry for a few minutes.  Then I came out and confronted our priest.   "I have a question!  If God loves us so much, why is he killing my daddy!?"  He told me that God wasn't killing my dad.  But I didn't believe him.  And to be honest, I held on to that hate for a very long time.  But this isn't about that.

My father died the next day around 1 pm.

My life has never been the same.  He left behind a wife and 3 girls.  It was not one of those things where you knew it was coming and had time to kind of prepare for it.  He had a brain aneurysm and never recovered. 

I was 11 years old.

It's been 26 years today since he passed.  And I miss him all the time.  He taught me a lot.  He taught me how to start taking responsibility for myself, how to cook, how to shoot, and a lot of life lessons that I still carry with me to this day.    He got up and went to work at 3 a.m. so he was sure to be home by the time we all got out of school once mom got a job.  He adored my mother.  He loved her so very much.  And she him.  And he adored us kids.  I look at my children and am sad that they will never get the chance to know him.  He was an amazing guy.  He was hard working, loyal, funny, loving and everyone liked him.  He liked war movies, and country music, as well as watching Night Court and Cheers (Those were some great shows!!).  And every Saturday night, we ordered pizza and hoagies and watched Star Trek: The next generation.    He was man who made sacrifices for his family.  And as far as I knew, he never complained. 

Sometimes I can still smell his pipe......

It really and truly breaks my heart that my kids will never know him.  Man, he would have adored them so much.  It's not my wedding, or my sisters' weddings.... It's not all the death's since he would have helped us get through.... It's the kids.  That is what I regret.  That he and they never met, never had the chance to know one another or love each other.  Maybe one day, they'll meet in the life after this one.  That is my hope.

REST IN PEACE DADDY.  You may gone, but you are not forgotten.  You live in our hearts and memories.... always.  And I look forward to the day where we hug once more and say "I love you".

HP Computers Are a Waste Of Your Time and Money (in my opinion)

So here's our story.

Less than 2 years ago, I received a laptop as gift.  A very nice laptop at the time.  With in the first 3 months we had to send it back.  The thermal drive was bad.  Shortly there after, my screen stop working properly.  It got sent back for a screen repair/replacement.  Since that time the screen has had issues.  Do you know/remember what tv's use to do when the programing went out?  They got all fuzzy and full of static.  Welcome to my new computer screen.  We have called about it.  They told us to loosen screws and do this and that.  The problem not only still exists, and got worse.  We have actually had this one laptop fixed under warranty several times.  And yet, the screen issue still exists. 

We got so fed up we bought a 2nd laptop the last time the original was in the shop.  We were talked into buying from the same company, HP.  I really did not want too.  But we were told the problems that our original laptop had were truly an anomaly, a fluke.  That HP made great products and had good warranty and customer service,  blah blah blah.  I was skeptical, but we bought a 2nd laptop.

It's been sent in for repairs under warranty as well.  Twice.  It's less than a year old.

We do take very good of our laptops.  They don't travel outside of home.  They are not carried or dropped.  They are not on the floor to be stepped on or kicked.  They are in wonderful shape.  Our children do not use them or touch them.

Back to laptop #1.  As I have said, we have contacted the company several times about this.  The laptop is finally out of warranty.  And now they want us to send it in.  And they want to charge us half the price of a new laptop to fix it.  Really? 

My husband had been on the phone, today alone, over 2 hours now and is being transferred to yet a 6th person to talk to about this.  The problems stemmed from a warranty repair on the screen.  We have contacted them about the issues sense.  And only now do they want us to send it in and they want to charge us way too much to fix it. 

To say we are frustrated is an understatement.  The fact that we have bought 2 laptops from this company and BOTH needed several warranty repairs with in the first few months say a lot all on it's own.  And we are not talking about $250 laptops here folks.  We are talking both laptops cost between $700 and $1000 all on their own. 

It would seem that the people at HP did want to bothered to fix the problem they created until it was finally out of warranty so they could charge us for it.  The products don't last.   To have purchased not one, but 2, and have them both in warranty repairs with in the first few months.  That's just crap.  That's a crap product. 

Since we started voicing our displeasure with HP, many have also told us very similar stories of purchasing an HP laptop/notebook, only to have in for repairs with in the first several months. In my opinion, I would not invest your time and money into buying HP products at this point. 

It's Worth It

Lately, my Facebook feed is becoming more and more littered with "friends" bashing marriage.  Mostly it comes in the forms of jokes and memes.  But sometimes, not so much.

I also get to see my single friends struggle with the dating life.  Some have kids, others do not.  But that never seems to matter much.  They all pretty much have the same struggle, finding that right person who will accept and love them as they are.

Seeing all these things escalate on an almost daily basis has really made me think on my own relationship more.  And I got to tell you, I for one am so happy to be married and not single again.

This year we will celebrate our 16th wedding anniversary.  And yes, I can say that with all confidence.  And here's why: We learned how to make it.

You don't make it 15+ years into marriage without a few major hurdles.  Of course we had the financial hurdle.  But we also had the unexpected child hurdle, the change of job/hours hurdle, and the biggest hurdle of all.  The one no one ever talks about but is there.  The people grow and change hurdle.  It's that last one that is the one that sneaks up on you. 

When you get married, you have all these wonderful notions of how the marriage will be.  You have expectations and dreams.  And that's all well and good, but then after a while, you start to realize it's not like what you expected at all.  You aren't the same person 5 years into your marriage as you were the day you got married.  And guess what, neither is your spouse.  With in those first 5 years or so, someone usually has a job change.  Or there may be child.  You may move.  Something big (maybe more than one thing) is going to happen.  It's going to change the way you and your spouse relate to each other.   Because no two people are the same.  And you both will adjust differently to whatever it is life has thrown at you.  You will adjust the way you always have.  They will too.  And that's not always going to put the two of you on the same page.  If you both adjust differently, and expect the other one to adjust in the same way you do, and they don't, it leads to stress and tension.  You will expect them to act one way, and when they don't, you are disappointed, hurt, let down.  That can, and often does, lead to resentment and anger.  And before you know it.... it's a major hurdle you have to overcome you never saw coming.  And sadly, this is a reason for many splits.  They end it saying things like "you weren't the person I thought you were" or "we've grown apart" or "you've changed", or "I am just not happy anymore".

And you know what?  This unexpected hurdle, it happens over and over again in marriage.  Life will keep throwing things at you.  And you and your spouse have to learn to adjust together, instead of seperately.  That comes from being able to be open and honest with each other.  Communication is very important.  It's trusting your spouse with your feelings.  It's being able to to listen to your spouse and take what they are feeling and saying to heart.  It's working on a solution together.  My husband and I have learned to speak up when we feel ourselves growing apart.  Something like "Hey honey, can we talk?  I know things have been hectic lately and you've been super stressed.  And I really don't want to add that, but I feel like we are starting to drift apart again. How about a lunch date next week and maybe a movie night, just us?"  Nine out of ten times, the other one of us is starting to feel it too. And it's almost a relief to get it out there and make a plan to work on us.  The other one time, the other one thinks the one saying it is completely off their rocker, but we don't say that.  We may say, "Really?  I hadn't noticed.  But yeah, lets make some time for each other."

It's making time to be with one another and enjoy each other again that will help you build your relationship.  After a working on time with one another, you will usually find it easier to talk to one another about what the issue(s) are.  You feel close again.  You trust again.  And you want to work it out.  But you have to make the time to make your spouse a priority first.

Another thing that we have learned, is to be able to say how we are felling without placing blame.  That's a tricky one.  It's one thing to say "I feel lonely these days" or "I really miss spending time with you" than it is to say "you work all the time and are never here".  One way is just being open and honest about how you feel without placing blame.  The other is just going to make your spouse defensive.  And once they become defensive, they aren't going to really hear what you are trying to say.  Try and word your feelings honestly, but carefully.  Really listen to everything your spouse says to you during that crucial time you are discussing issues.  Try not to take it personally (easier said than done) and really try to understand what they are trying to say and how they feel.

It's not easy.  Especially the first few (read dozen) times.  You will find yourself questioning your marriage a few times in your marriage.  (Something no one ever really tells you when you say I do).  And you know what?  I think that's human nature.  It's hard.  It's not working at the moment.  You are hurt and disappointed.  Of course you'll question it.  But that is where your vows come in.  That's when you dig in and say "Nope!  I am gonna give it all I have and we are going to work through this".

Here's a little secret:  Several years ago, on Valentine's Day of all days (it wasn't planned), I asked for divorce.  My husband and I were both miserable.  And after yet another argument and hurt feelings, I was finally done.  He refused.  He said he wasn't gonna let me go.  That we could work through it.  And you know what?  We did.  It wasn't easy, but we did it.  And I am so very glad of it.  It was worth it.

Here is something we have learned over the years.  We love each other.  If we didn't then we wouldn't be hurt or disappointed in one another at times.  It's because we care that we get hurt.

My husband knows me.  He knows my past.  He knows all my flaws.  He knows what makes me happy and what doesn't.  He knows what I believe in.  He knows my passions.  He knows my fears.  We have little inside jokes that are all ours.  And I know these things about him.  That is what makes the fight worth it.  I don't want to try to do all this again with someone else.  Because the truth is, I'll find myself right back in this same situation eventually.  Where one or both of us is hurt or disappointed.  Where we have changed, and not together.  Then what?  Another divorce?  Another break up?  No.  I refuse to do it.  And so does my husband.  We love one another.  We want to do life together.  And we know better than most, it does get hard.  It does get ugly.  But we are worth it.   And we are happier and stronger today then we were almost 16 years ago, 10 years ago, 3 years ago, last year.  We are learning how to do life together.  That's marriage.  Learning to do life together.  Even the hard stuff.  You will always be learning, always be adjusting.  You will have times of hard work and hurt.  And you will have times of complete and total happiness and comfort.  It really is working through the hard stuff that makes the good stuff even better.

I don't envy my single friends. I'll take my marriage over being single any day.  It's worth it.  They may not agree.  And that's okay.  I still love them.  ;)   

Working it out

Something has come to my attention.  And I am not at liberty to say what it is for several reasons.  The main one being it is not my thing to tell.  But it has put me in quite a confusing place.

 I have spent days trying to figure out the best thing to do.  And after much thought and contemplation this is all I have come up with:

How do you make someone do something they don't want to do, but they need to do?  Even though you know the outcome will be messy and hard, it is still something you truly believe they need to do?
My heart is broken.  And it's not something I can just fix.  No one can fix this for her.  But I feel like her not speaking up is only going to allow her to continue to live in the mindset of a victim.

I can't force her to do a thing.  And I don't want to force her.  But I am at such a loss. 

I have contacted a few people I know who have some kind of say in the matter for help and guidance.  I feel like I am still in shock.  And I know she is. 

Oh God help us.  No matter what happens, help her.  Help us know what to do, exactly, without causing more harm.

This has got to stop. 

And help me know to do what is right.