Category Archives: someday I'll be *normal*

Shitbricks of life

Ya know how sometimes life hits ya with a shitbrick that knocks you on your ass and youre like “eh, well” and you get back up?

Im just going through a “Im not getting off the floor. Im going to lay here to die” phase.

Not to worry…I hate my ex far too much to risk him ever getting MY child ever.

And I just know there would be some happy ass save the world type that would be all “oh lets reunite this little girl with her meth addicted father” before Im even buried.

In a matter of days my world crumbled…..in a matter of moments I felt the air being sucked out of my lungs, the weight of my worries too heavy this time….In a matter of days…..I crumbled to what is sure to be my darkest ‘funk’ thus far.

My job, my once friends, my heart……not at all what I once thought.

It hurts to be wrong.

It hurts to be betrayed, lied to and shunned.

It sucks when reality sets in and you have to admit that you’re alone and you were so very wrong…….

but I always come back….eventually……

Alone longer than together

I’ve been a single mom since the start.

I say that all the time but it never sank in just how long that’s been.

The PIT will be 8 1/2 next month.

That’s 8 1/2 years that I’ve been alone….that’s longer that I was with Mr Meth.

For 8 1/2 years I’ve been in survival mode and I have survived.

My daughter is healthy, happy, smart and way to damn clever for her own good.

I have enjoyed every second watching that girl grow into an amazing little person, and she truly is an amazing being.

I love being a mother.

Then why have I been so unhappy lately?

Because, low and behold, I am more than a mother.

I am ME….a person that I’ve set aside day after day…mostly so I don’t have to face my fears.

My misery outside of motherhood has taken it’s toll on me. I’ve come to a point in my life where something has to give, something has to change.

Something is going to change and for once….I’m not afraid.

“Never be afraid to try something new. Remember that a lone amateur built the Ark. A large group of professionals built the Titanic.”
Dave Barry

Reduce my WHAT?!?!

I’ve been in the funk again folks….revising this post-of-the-past and reviving the Unfunkatation of ME

I remember being a kid and my friends would want to go ride bikes or play softball and I just wouldn’t feel like it.  I didn’t feel like doing anything…ever. I remember sitting in my room wondering what was wrong with me….why did I seem to feel so differently than the other kids.

Throughout high school my “I just don’t feel like it” moods were accompanied by a whole lot of attitude and rebellion. I skipped school to take naps. Most kids skipped school and got into some sort of decent mischief but not me….I just wanted to sleep. Everything seemed to annoy me for no good reason. It’s like I’m annoyed by being alive and that is a shitty feeling.

When I was pregnant, sleeping all the time is expected so nobody really noticed that all I wanted to do was sleep. I was always tired at work but at least when I was working I was getting out of my house.  However, once I hit 26 weeks and went into labor, I was taken off work and put on strict bedrest. Shoulda been a dream come true for someone like me right? Wrong. I was so very wrong.

By the time my daughter was born and my husband was out the door….it became very apparent that I needed help. I held my newborn baby literally, for 3 days until my mother flew in to meet her new grandbaby and told me to put the baby down and get my sorry ass in the shower. At my 6 week check up my doctor asked how the baby was…I replied with “She’s perfect”…and then the doctor asked how I was……I couldn’t even speak. Instead I felt it…it was all coming to the surface and I was going to loose it…. And with that, I lost it. I buried my face in my hands and sobbed as I tried to explain that I had kicked my husband out for being a meth addicted he-whore and that although MY baby is perfect, I have absolutely no fucking idea what I’m doing here….”I’m in over my head!” I said to my doctor who was looking at me with the most comforting grin.  SHE got it…my doctor was also a single mom…not by the same means. She gave birth to her son while still in high school. She went on to finish high school AND medical school. That day, 8 years ago, she was still a single mom and she took the time to actually listen to me, she felt my pain, I could see it in her eyes…..I could also see the look of “You’re going to be alright girlie” in her eyes. She probably ran 45 minutes behind in clinic the rest of the day but that didn’t stop her from taking the time to listen to a new and completely terrified new mother. For that, Dr. Everding, I am forever grateful. She also sent me off with a prescription for an anti-depressant that also had good results in preventing migraines, something I’ve struggled with my entire life (and still do….)

I still often feel like a roller coaster but not in the “everybody gets to ride” kinda way.  (Sorry to disappoint you fellas, but this chick is a prude) Just like an up and down twist and turn scare the bejesus outta yourself kinda way. Some days I’m queen bitch..I’ll take on the world and I’m sure I’ll win. Some days…

I just feel gray

I just feel gray

I’m Eeyore..all gray and mopey..everything is pointless because in the end reality will crush me and any shattered remains of my dreams.

There are alot more gray days than not. I’m not even sure what’s wrong most of the time! I just feel gray. I hate this feeling and recently it’s had it’s tight grip around my neck, relentlessly suffocating me, holding on and I can’t for the life of me shake it. I want to be happy and feel better, I have to. I don’t want to be a crabby old mom. One of my biggest fears is that my daughter will look back on her childhood and think “Damn, my mom was miserable…all the time”. I don’t want her to look at me the way I looked at my mother.  I want to have fun and play with the PIT..why does it have to feel like such a task to drag my scrawny ass outta bed? Why do I never ever feel “chipper”? Am I doomed to a gray existance?! I feel good maybe a few days outta the month at most. It’s annoying. I’ve annoyed myself…terrific.

After annoying myself long enough, I saw a different doctor who told me to reduce my stress level and I would feel much better.

No shit? Alert the press..lower stress leads to feeling better!! Now doc..how do you suggest I go about doing that?

Go back in time and choose a better sperm donor? Fuel up the delorian.

Should I pull financial security outta my ass? Grow money in the backyard? Should I drink doc?! Can you prescribe pot cause really nothin lowers your stress level like a fat doobie.

What the hell kind of medical help is that? Reduce your stress…eff you doc. I could have gotten that tidbit out of a fortune cookie. Reduce my stress?! I’m a single mother, divorced from a meth head who does not contribute child support but does threaten me and my closest relative is 4 hours away so when I say single mother I fucking mean it.

That doctor (who seriously needs a fucking CLUE) referred me to a psyciatrist..suprise! Apparently he did not like my questions. Probably because he couldn’t answer them because “just reducing stress” isn’t that easy for all of us. (he probably added a note to me records in red pen that says “DO NOT suggest stress reduction” )
I went to the new doctor and told him my story and looked at him with my usual “don’t fuck with me” look and he just grinned. I thought “oh good a smug fuck”.

The doctor said “no shit you have stress little lady. Let’s help you manage the streas and eventually kick it’s ass into a greatly reduced state.”

I sighed a huge sigh of relief as if I felt reassured by him telling me it’s ok to be stressed.  I’ve tried varies prescriptions and different “techniques” to manage my stress and some days Im certain I will be just fine and some days….I just cant talk myself into shit.

It’s not so much depression as it is the anxiety.  Lately, I can worry myself into a panic attack that will have me heaving my guts out in an ER with nurses poking IV’s into me trying to calm me down so i can breathe. It’s a horrible feeling to see your child see you like this.  I struggle everyday to keep my anxiety in check…or at least keep in from spilling all over the people I love. I have my happy pills from the psych and for me, they help tremendously. Still, the anxiety can get to me even when I’m medicated. I can try to tell myself that it will all be alright but the anxiety chimes right in with “Oh yeah lady, how the fuck are you gonna pay your rent? Your kid needs a dentist like, now. Mhmmm it’ll be alright my ASS woman”  For the life of me….I can’t drown the anxiety out.

I’ve added additional techniques to control my panic attacks and Eeyore days. Blogging is one of my “techniques”….so brace yourself folks….it’s going to be a colorful ride! (Might even learn a new cuss word or two if you’re lucky) Im stuck in this gray rut and Im sick of it…Im going to blog my way out:)  Im going to tackle this one crazy little issue after another…perhaps by telling my story I will be able to make sense of it.  Who knows…might even let go of whatever it is thats weighing me down…

letting go might feel good....

letting go might feel good....

The PIT’s party was FANTASTIC and I’ve apparently had another epiphany.

Well folks…we made it.  The PIT had a fabulous birthday!

First, a bigassbearhug thank you to a very special *Dad* who helped make this birthday weekend possible….THANK YOU!!

Friday as some of you know through my tweets, I suprised the PIT at school with cookies and a corsage.  What girl doesn’t love getting flowers?! None. Not even an 8 year old. The girl was giddy!! She wore her corsage all day at school and passed out her birthday treats to her class and her past teachers, she adores her teachers! When I picked her up after school she was in the best mood ever! It was awesome & sorta contagious.

 I felt pretty damn good knowing she was so happy…..and that I did that:) 

Friday night @taytayllamalady and I took the PIT and her friend to the Cinema Grill for dinner & a movie.  I had never been to the Cinema Grill so I was super excited to learn the tickets to Alice in Wonderland were only $3.  Usually I need to take out a loan to go to the fucking movies but here I thought $3?! Hells YES!!

The movie was INCREDIBLE…I absolutely loved it. Johnny Depp played the Mad Hatter like nobodys business! Excellent work Depp #assslap  Dinner was delish too. Cinema Grill has bomb ass pizza & cheese curds….for a price. Lol, my $3 movie tickets made sense when I got the bill for the food—$85.  Yup thats right $85.  Back to the small loans for movie nights! 

Saturday was the PIT’s actual birthday.  We started the day off with a big breakfast over at Fat Nats.  Nat himself served the PIT her birthday breakfast and said with a smile “This one’s on me birthday girl”  I could have cried I was so touched.  Im telling you….the PIT is quite the little person…she leaves her little fingerprints all over the hearts of everyone she meets. She left a fingerprint with Nat the first time we ate at the diner.  We’ve been regulars for about 2 years now but that Saturday morning I realized we were more than just the regulars….we were friends.

  Thank you Nat….your kindess is so greatly appreciated..and your staff effing ROCKS! Everyone in that diner made the PIT feel like a princess on her special day….Im grateful for that….the girl was beaming the entire day!

 

After breakfast, @taytayllamalady, the PIT and I loaded up the Civic for a lil road trip to grammas house!  This year I had decided to have the PITs party at my grammas house. She has a huge yard & a grill so we thought “lets bbq”!  (Yes gramma has a grill but neither of us can operate one)  Thankfully, my dad has a big ass grill AND knows how to use it!  Dad did the grilling for me  (thanks dad)

Grammas drive way was packed by 6:30 that evening.  It was AWESOME!!  My mom, dad, gramma & aunt all in the same place…at the same time….NEVER happens. Ok well it happened once. At my brothers wedding.  This was the 2nd time and I must say….it went really fucking well! My dad grilled, my mom mingled, gramma watched the kids run around her yard

…my brother & his wife made an appearance.  We hadnt seen them since the wedding in September I think….it was nice to have them there. The PIT adores her Uncie….she always has…when she was a baby Uncie would shake his empty beer can at her and she’d book it to the fridge to get him another one.  It’s odd but in a lot of ways, the PIT reminds me of my brother when he was a kid—ALWAYS INTO SOMETHING.  My brothers a good kid….as is the PIT.

  Desi and Karla came out to the party as well!!

I was SO excited to see them. I havent seen Karla since I left that town after my divorce….I keep in contact with Desi via facebook and such but to see her in person and introduce her to the PIT was just fucking awesomeness.  Not that the PIT remembers any of the time she spent with Desi & Karla….I sure as shit do and one day when the PIT & I have that talk…the one about the sperm donor….she will know then just how important Desi & Karla are…theyre kindness and caring kept the two of us alive in my darkest time. 

Auntie April came.  Seriously. I AM NEVER GOING 10 FUCKING MONTHS WITHOUT SEEING MY BESTIES FACE EVER AGAIN.  I know time flies now that we both have kids but for real…I need my besties.  My nephew is almost 2 already and he wants to play “ashes ashes” and its the cutest thing I’ve ever seen! 

He’s going to have such a blast this summer now that he’s up and running.  And have I ever mentioned how friggin cute Auntie & Uncle Trav are together? Fucking ADORABLE.  They’re the kind of couple you can feel the love between…you can see it in Travs eyes when he looks at his wifey…the mother of his son…..he adores her and she adores him….I adore them both~ Auntie April even managed to bring her niece along…the PIT’s buddy…who we don’t see as much-we seem to show up on weekends lil bud’s at her dads but this time—it worked perfectly!

The PIT had requested to play “Pin the tail on the Donkey” but her mother had other ideas..teeheehee…

“PIN THE KISSES ON BIEBER” ahahahahaha…..

my girl has a major crush on this Bieber kid and I think it’s adorable the way she blushes & swoons at the mention of his name.  When she saw me hang the poster on grammas garage her eyes lit up!

I told her Bieber was the donkey and she said “Mooooooooooooom he is nooot a donkey, he’s a singer”…we agreed to disagree on the Bieber subject and just get to pinning. 

 The PIT wrote name on the “smootches” and then passed them out….my dad looked a bit confused at first…the PIT took him by the hand “Come on Grampa!”

 Do you have any idea how fucking cute it is to see your tiny daughter spin your big ass Ogre of a dad around in circles 3 times and then push him towards Bieber?! FUCKING CUTE!! 

Damn near all the adults had to play! I say “had to” because it’s really hard to tell the PIT “no i dont wanna play”….my brother played

…Nana,

Auntie April,

 @taytayllamalady,

my cousin Joe…lol….

my big cousin Joe full of tatts and attitude couldn’t and wouldnt tell the PIT no.

 I will never forget her laugh that night….oh she laugh so frickin hard everytime someone put a smootch on Biebers nose or completely off the poster….she was SHOCKED when her Uncie planted the smootch right on Biebers lips…little does she know her Uncie is a CHEATER!

Lol-we saw you feel grammas garage door for creases and bumps….you’re quick bro but soon the PIT will be on to you as well….you know whats gonna happen then–GAME ON UNCIE. I think the PIT should spend like 6 weeks at Uncies;)

The adults mingled…the kids popped all the balloons…..I took a moment in between trying to figure out which way I was going (I get panicy at parties lol) to just be still…..the wind was barely blowing a soft, almost warm breeze through the trees, kids were giggling, my parents were laughing, my two besties were chatting….I could not have asked for a more perfect moment. 

I know it was the PIT’s birthday and all but her party-her day, had a huge impact on me….in a very good way.

After the bbq at grammas I took the PIT and my little sister to a hotel for swimming & a slumber party.  Auntie & lil bud came with us too!  @taytayllamalady, Big Joe & his wifey joined us as well. We sat by the pool watching the kids play—having grown up conversations—laughing our asses off just enjoying each others company.  It was friggin awesome. **I really must do that more often….grown up conversations & laughing with the besties.** The 3 girls played, swam, giggled and soaked in the hot tub until MIDNIGHT! Lil party animals seriously wore me the eff out! I LOVE IT!!

 Sunday morning my sister & the PIT wanted to swim for a bit before checkout so I took them to the pool.  I grabbed a soda from the machine & when I go to sit at a table I notice the PIT barking out orders.  Curious I had to see what the heck she was talking about…aka…make sure she wasnt being a punk just running her mouth (thats her mamas job).  She wasn’t…..she had managed to get the other kids in the pool together & organized a game of “Marco Polo”….I just looked at her in awe….she’s always been like that..social and ready to lead the way….that kid of mine is flipping AMAZING. 

She continues to shock & awe me in good ways daily

 (Im sure the teen years may have more shock & awe lol…I do know who I’m dealing with–ME)

It blows my mind that I was giving this little creature to love, nurture and raise….especially solo….I guess it’s time to face it….

this may not have been what I had in mind for my future, I hadn’t planned on kids or marriage but here I am…one fabulously independant mama….

Someone had this in mind for me….Someone has faith in me as a parent/person….

it’s time I have faith in Someone….

 

 

 

What the shit?! My kids birthday party post turned into another epiphany?! Interesting…

NEWSFLASH: I fucked up

Yeah I fucked up.

 I dealt with the consequences of my decisions; I continue to deal with them everyday of my life.

I accept responsibility and I never forget that the only person to blame is myself and my own inability to make a good decision.

 With that being said…..I think its time to move the fuck on!!

Yes, I married the meth addicted gang-banging he-whore

Yup, I let myself be trapped with an abusive alcoholic

Uh huh, I fell ass over elbows in love with someone else’s husband

Does the three strike rule apply in situations like this? Should it?!

Last year I revoked my own rights to date until I was thirty.

Well now I’m thirty….I may need an extension. Maybe…40ish….50ish?  

Or never. 

I could get another bastard cat

or two so that when the PIT abandons me chasing her dreams so I’m not too lonely…or I could drink….or I could get a hobby…nap for years?

Or perhaps I could just admit the obvious.

I am absolutely terrified that I am never going to find love that won’t ruin me

But I’m also too scared to give up ever feeling *that* giddy guts feeling ever again. 

I’m not going to give up on shit, how bout that for a change?

How about this:

my mistakes did not make me who I am today….the LESSONS I’ve learned have…they’ve made me stronger that I’d ever admit and they’ve made me wiser. 

 All that I have to do is let myself go…dream….think about what I want….what I like….be a little more selfish and patient….balance….

Weak and easily manipulated…the continued effort of Step 2

When a Tupac song would come on the radio, I would crank the radio and proclaim “I love this song!”

To which he (the alcoholic)  would reply “You would” with a look of disgust. 

Anytime I showed the slightest interest in anything he would piss on it. 

I learned to shut up quickly. 

I was freshly divorced with a baby, in a new city, trying to make a fresh start yet still shaken from the nasty taste the Book of Meth left behind….bitter. 

I thought that surviving that was pretty frickin amazing…I felt tough…but the foundation was still weak and easily manipulated. 

The foundation being: ME.  Weak and easily manipulated. 

Not words I generally like to associate with myself but in order to be true to myself…..I need to admit it. 

I slipped. 

I lost the upper hand and the fucker smacked me with it repeatedly. 

 Not mentioning the 3 years I spent weak and easily manipulated is not going to change what happened. 

I have to forgive myself for being weak & manipulated or I’ll never be as strong as I need to be to do anything. 

 Several weeks ago it was brought to my attention just how important it is to forgive myself…let this shit go and finally move on…if  I don’t…the lies of depression and the echo of his vicious words will always bring me to my knees. 

I wish I could say that his words only ever hurt me but I cannot.  That’s what I have the hardest time forgiving myself for….he hurt my mother and my daughter with those hateful words…he hurt the 2 people that mean the world to me and I feel like a complete & total failure for letting that happen. 

The PIT called him “dad” for most of those 3 years even though I persistently corrected her. 

Since we left, the only time she has ever mentioned him is one morning after we first moved into our own place, a couple next door was arguing loudly and the PIT heard them as we walked by. 

She looked at me with those big brown eyes and said “Mama.  I’m really glad that daddy doesn’t yell at you like that anymore” and then she smooched the back of my hand she was holding. 

That’s when it became clear to me just how much she was picking up on. 

She was very aware that this asshole had hurt me….a lot. 

To this day she doesn’t mention him at all…idk if she remembers calling him dad or not…she knows that he is not her father…she knows her father is Lao. 

 I feel like I failed my daughter by not leaving sooner…not fighting back harder….for getting trapped. 

 How do I forgive myself for that?

I thought I could maintain the upper hand and this would be a short relationship. 

 It didn’t take long for his temper to show….sober or not. 

 I knew I had to get out before it got out of hand….I never had any feelings for him. 

I thought maybe I could at first…he was nice, the PIT loved him (who knows why) and he put on a good show. 

 When fewer people were looking however, his show took a wicked turn. 

The plan was to move the PIT & myself into our own apartment as soon as I had the money saved up. 

I was walking a very thin line financially and was one false move away from losing everything I had worked to get back post Mr. Meth. 

When he drank he was a complete asshole. 

That came through in a hurry. 

Unfortunately, my finances couldn’t keep up and before I knew it he had totaled MY car with a fabulous DWI and was calling me collect from jail DEMANDING that I come pick him up IMMEDIATELY. 

Ah, ok. How am I going to do that? You totaled my car.

He did not care how I did it but he screamed at me to get it fucking done NOW. 

He screamed at me all the time, I thought I had become numb to it but looking back I see that I wasn’t numb at all…I felt every cut of every word…no I wasn’t numb…I was USED to it. 

I was used to being called a chink loving whore, a worthless bitch, slut..I was used to being reminded that I had fucked up and so basically….I deserved this.

Plus he “never hit me with a closed fist” for which I assume I was supposed to be grateful for. 

 I’m not. 

 If he would have just punched me I could have punched him back. 

He didn’t….he was much more subtle about it….he never left any visible marks

 By the time I was able to get my shit together and leave him I was also a firm believer that I deserved every ounces of misery I endured. 

Weak and easily manipulated…….how do I forgive myself for that?

 How do I make sure that I don’t let that happen again……without keeping them at bay or self destructing into a self loathing ball of anger screaming

 “GET AWAY FROM ME I DON’T DESERVE TO BE HAPPY”. 

How the fuck am I ever going to love again if I can’t do this?

 I need a smoke break…..fuck.

Another toe into step 2

He wasn’t the one that got me to break. 

 He’s just the one that I blame for everything. 

He let me down in a major way.  I hate being let down. 

He dropped me just when I needed him the most and that just fucking hurts. 

One April he’s holding me in my father’s front yard..Bawling as we watch my father’s house burn to the ground. 

Feeling so helpless…he was there to hold me. 

That same April, a week later he held me as I bawled and bawled for hours the night my grandfather passed. 

He stayed up with me all night, listening to me reminisce, letting me cry it out….I remember laying in our bed looking up at the ceiling going on and on with the stories as he stroked my forehead the way he always did…something I had always found so comforting….something I had completely forgotten blocked out until right now…..motherfuck. 

If I close my eyes right now….I can see him…looking at me with those big brown eyes and that comforting grin that said “You’re adorable-snotty nose, puffy eyes and all-I love you” …..I used to feel so safe….loved..I also think I’m going to vomit right now…..breathe CC breathe….

He’s not the one that made me give up on love.  In fact, he’s one of the only people I am certain really did love me. 

I don’t hate myself for loving him. 

It pisses me off that he chose meth over me but I don’t need to forgive him. 

 I don’t need to forgive myself. 

We did the best that we could and he made me feel love…..maybe that’s why I get so pissed at him….why did you show me love and then rip it the fuck away from me?!  

Who knows….such is life. 

He was too weak to resist the meth. 

Weakness that falls upon him and he’ll pay for and probably does pay for….I honestly don’t know…he could be dead or in prison by now. 

I don’t know. 

 I walked away..no I ran…and I fought my ass off and I always had the upper hand with him. 

He may have been a psycho drug addict at the end but I was the crazy white bitch with a mean ass attorney and I made the final cut. 

 I ended it.

 I made sure that the drug addict he became would never come near the child that we could have loved together. 

There’s no room for meth in my child’s life. 

 He knew that and he made his choice anyway—I made my choice and I’m actually rather proud of that.

It’s not easy to terminate parental rights but it was worth every penny and sleepless night. 

You see…he’s not the one that broke me…in fact, his crazy ass made me realize just how strong I could be.  Don’t piss off a mother. 

I left him feeling victorious and strong. 

 

The one I’m having the hardest time forgiving myself for is the one I let break me….the one that somehow with hateful words, emotional abuse and straight up fucking meanness broke my strength…how did I let that happen?!

How can I forgive myself if I can’t even bring myself to go back there and look?

 I’ve just ‘not mentioned’ 3 years of my life post Mr. Meth……not mentioning it is haunting me. 

I know I have to face this one in order to ever forgive myself….FUCK.

Step 2….Im only putting my pinky toe into step 2 for now…

Step 2:  LET GO.

Not a new concept. I’ve tried it a few times…but I always failed

Not this time baby

If you ask me I think I have more than earned the right to hate my meth addicted he-whoreing ex-husband. 

I have that right….but I don’t have to use it.

I have the right to forgive but I’ve haven’t used it either

I feel like forgiving Mr Meth is like saying is ok and it is SO not ok.

There’s no reason to tell that tale again….I wrote it a year ago…I got it out….I’m not going there today.

I read something last night that hit me like a Mac truck

“Forgiveness is to set a prisoner free and to realize the prisoner was you”

I’m just going to leave it at that for now….let the words marinate in my mind and absorb into my soul….so that I can finally forgive MYSELF.

 

As usual, steps have turned into chapters

Have you ever noticed how much bitch bitch bitch and how little I actually DO?

Yes, I’m fully aware I just called myself out…again.

It had to be done.

Quite frankly…I’m annoyed with myself running around in circles like a bipolar raped ape not knowing where Im going let alone where the fuck I WANT to be going…Sick of it!

I have had enough.

STOP RUNNING CC….sit the fuck down!

Time to do.  What is it I’m doing now? 

Creating MY OWN silver lining….it’s an amazing and rather useful technique I picked up over at GG.

I didn’t even know about this silver lining thingy…I just got used to my lil gray cloud looming over head. 

Well guess what lil gray cloud….you’re getting a makeover suckah~

IN SMALL DOSES…this step thingy has turned into chapters Kadi….nice work…the public thanks you I’m sure ;)

 

Maybe it’s the way she can gracefully throw “craptastic” into a post….or maybe it’s the “poop”…MAYBE she’s my fairy Godmother…..whatever it is about Kadi….Im diggin it. 

 She speaks my language…more than just the cussing. 

She makes sense and I’m usually provoked into a self improving challange.

Today she posted something that seriously could not have been more fitting for yours truely….

Alright so here goes…

 

The Making of this mama’s Silver Lining

Step One—Let it storm. Express your feelings instead of internalizing them

I internalize….ALOT. 

 I have opened up a bit since blogging but in Kadi’s post she tells about her friends taking on the storm WITH her.  

 I feel compelled to apologize to my bestie, Auntie. 

I have been one ginormous pain in her ass when it comes to opening up….I am so sorry…. 

 She used to feel like it was something personal, I couldn’t confide in her or something like that. 

She’s known me long enough to know that is not the case.

  I was too pissed off to tell her the whole story about Mr. Meth, I was too ashamed to tell her the whole story about the alcoholic and to terrified to tell her when I fell for someone because when it fell apart she would be there for me….expecting me to cry and then she’d cry and then I’d feel bad for making her cry!

I have ALWAYS felt like a burden to people. 

 I know that if April were here right now, she’d smack me in the back of the head and I’d deserve it.

I don’t feel burdened when my teary eyed friends come to me….I’m honored that they have come to me. 

 I know that my friends are not burdened by me and would never see me as such and yet I keep shit inside.

There was a time in my life….when I’d come home from work all stressed out and bitching that some old hag shit on my shoes AGAIN….which always escalated to an overdramatic high pitched hissy fit WITH arms flailing to emphasize just how pissed I am…and when I get *that* worked about shit…even when it’s about something ridiculous like poop on your shoe…I cry. 

Why?

Fuck if I know…it’s annoying!

I still do it….although lately when I get all worked up I puke my fucking guts out…also annoying…

anywhoooo back in the days PRE meth,  when I would get all good and worked up almost ready to explode… ’he’ would look at me with those gorgeous brown eyes, grin at me as he’d take my hand, pull me close, kiss me on the forehead (yes he was tall for an Asian), wrap his arms around me, tell me it’s gonna be alright and just hold me because ‘he’ understood that was all I really needed….just a good cry in loving arms.

INSERT RANDOM CONFESSION HERE:

(Im one of THOSE girls that wants to be held and FEEL the love…and Im one of those moody chicks that you can’t seem to figure out…the kind that frustrates the fuck out of a man only because he’s wasting his effort trying to figure out why Im crying…Im one of THOSE chicks that just needs to cry my soul clean sometimes…)

I remember the sense of relief that poured over me and how good it felt to just breathe…I miss that feeling, that sense of relief….I miss the trust and respect I once felt….the safety and security ‘his’ loving arms once provided….

Fuck.

Now there are tears on my laptop. 

FUCK!

I *think* I may vomit…where’s my Xanax?!  

Alright….pull it together lady.

F.U.C.K. 

There…much better.

  Screaming the effbomb is like therapy for me…get off my back.

 

I may miss the feelings that come from loving arms….but just because ‘he’ is not here to provide those feelings doesn’t mean I won’t feel them again…

Unless I keep pepper spraying anyone who comes to close…..

{hands over pepper spray}

 Here, take it. But Im keeping my 9 just in case Im attacked by terrorists or a big ass bear….

it COULD happen you know…a bear like sleeping bag almost ate The Blogess once..I saw the pics…

 

It’s time to face the facts…..loving arms simply come from loving people…that has nothing to do with ‘him’….

taytay literally busted down the bathroom door where I was hosting my usual pity-party and FORCED me to cry it out WITH her there…bitch is aggressive…just sayin ;)

I tried to make her leave but she refused….I bawled my fucking eyes out on the bathroom floor with taytay holding me…even when I got snot on her sweater…THAT’S love. 

 April would totally bust down the door and leg wrestle me into tears….not only because she’s strangely good at leg wrestling….but because she loves me too…however, there are 4 hours between us these days so busting down the door is a bit more difficult…which is sort of a relief because I’m NOT kidding….she’s THAT good at leg wrestling.

The point is, I’ve learned something….

I’ve built these walls around me to keep the storms out but it turns out that I’ve only been keeping them in.

I can see the sun starting to peek through the walls I’ve worked so hard to build…..

I’m going to make this promise to MYSELF…

I WILL put more effort into taking the walls down than I did putting them up because I deserve to be loved.

I’m going to do this….not only for myself but for my 2 blogging BFF’s that I can’t physically hug…Mely and Jellie

 

This just in…I AM a woman

Sometimes you don’t even realize that you’ve accepted the shit because it’s the regret you have become accustomed to.”   

 

You spend all your time and effort in survival mode and screaming what you DONT want that you can’t even fathom what you actually DO want.

So certain that if you let anyone near you or your heart they will break it so you attack first–survival mode–kill or be killed.

When did my view of *love* turn into a bloody battlefield?!

 Yeah I’ve been hurt but for fucks sake who HASNT been hurt right.

Why the hell is this so damn difficult?!

 

Why?

 Because it means facing the one thing that scares the fucking beJesus outta me. 

Taking a chance on someone, giving the my heart and trusting they wont break it or piss on it. 

 Taking the chance on myself….to let someone love me….all of me…even the crazy parts.

 I am what I am….hard to handle. 

THIS JUST IN: 

A very wise friend (who happens to me of the male gender…i know…it shocks me too) just informed me of something I had not thought of…..ever. 

 ”You say you are a bitch. That’s for survival. But you are also a woman: That’s for pleasure.” 

 Say what now?!

OMFG….he’s right…I am a woman..somewhere beneath this brick-bitch-wall…