Tag Archives: depression

A time you feared for the safety of a loved one.

There was a prompt from Mama Kat this week that caught my attention.
Mama's Losin' It

5.) A time you feared for the safety of a loved one.

I’ve told this story before.  It’s from the scariest time in my life. New mother, beautiful newborn and a meth addict.  Somethings gotta go…..

There is nothing scarier than fearing that the drug addict you married is going to kill you and/or your child.  To me, there is nothing scarier or more dangerous than a meth addict in need of a fix.

converseChapter 7 in what I like to call “The book of meth”……..we’re nearing the end now, thank you all for coming with me as I tell my story….

Catch up from the begining here-

Or the entire Book of Meth here~

My first Christmas as momma was amazing. The PIT was healthy, happy and full of spunk. She had no idea I was miserable inside….

Mr meth was still in jail thru new years. I still hadn’t gone to see him, still refused to speak to him…all communication went thru his family. Finally in January I went to see him..I simply went to make myself clear…I was done. I told him that I hated him, that my daughters first Christmas was amazing no thanks to his worthless ass…told him that when he got out he was not coming to my home…told him it was over, I wanted out. I told him I wanted a divorce. I sat there and felt nothing as he bawled his eyes out and begged me to give him “just one more try”…I felt nothing. I wanted him to hurt. He crushed me…I wanted him to feel the pain that I felt when I realized “we” were over because of his choices.

I said “make a choice fucker! Marriage or meth?!?”

He made his choice and that is why we are here, discussing divorce, behind glass in a fuckin jail…on our fuckin sham of a wedding anniversary. Every little girls dream I know.

I left the jail still emotionless, quiet…I felt numb. Seriously?! Is this really my life right now?! What the shit?! What the fuck is wrong with me? I thought to myself. What kind of loser has a husband behind bars? What kind of loser has a husband who brings meth to a family reunion and drops it? Apparently me! Fuck!!!


111I went to pick up the PIT, took her home and cuddled and rocked her to sleep. I held her all night that night. Didn’t sleep for even a moment..I sat in that stupid gray rocking chair rocking all night…crying…bawling. I looked at my precious baby and I felt like such a failure….I wanted to give her the best and I knew that there’s no way I could. Failure….that haunts me everyday. I still feel like a failure because she doesn’t have a dad like I meant for her to have. I wonder if I always will…and as tears fill my eyes right now…I’m pretty sure I will.

Mr meth was released from jail sometime in January or February…he didn’t bother us at first. He went to his aunts and stayed with them for a while and seemed to make an effort. Soon however..the meth the friends the same old same old sucked him right back in. He started breaking into the house again and told me he would rather kill me than lose me. Ummmm, wouldn’t he have lost me either way? Hello…dead?! Nut job!!

Since the holidays my family had known that my marriage was over. Not feeling the need to hide my situation anymore I went to my dad for help. He spent a day with me helping get a restraining order and change the locks on the doors yet again. I met with a realtor to put my house, that I loved but could not afford on just my income, on the market. One more thing I was going to lose because of mr meths choices. I loved that house…my grandfather gave me my inheratance to use as a down payment on this house…I moved into this house literally one week before my grandfather died. He was to weak to even come into my house the day I moved in…but he drove to town with gramma and waited in the car in my driveway and told me that he was proud of me and that my house was beautiful. I squeezed my poppa thru the car window that day…poppa and I were both beaming. Now here I was bawling as I signed the papers to put the house up for sale. I still feel like I let poppa down…I lost the house he helped me get….

Mr meth was getting more and more nuts by the day and the restraining order didn’t stop him most days. One sunny afternoon I went out to my garage…a place I rarely went…I’m a girl…I have no business in a garage unless it’s a garage sale:) that afternoon I went out there looking for who knows what..I’m not even sure why I went out there. I went to open the door and almost broke my face…apparently the door was locked. Odd…I didn’t even know this locked! I knew I didn’t have a key because I knew this lock had not been on my door before, so being the naturally psycho bitch that I am, I kicked the door open…I must have been really pissed because I’m still kinda suprised I kicked it open in one swift kick!  There, in my garage was a Lexus, a Lexus that I knew was not mine since I had just begged the car dealer to buy my own Civic back from me because I couldnt afford it.  I actually knew who the Lexus belonged to…I was a fellow drug lord friend of Mr Meths car.  The question was. why the fuck is the drug lords car in my garage? How long has it been here? What the hell?! I really need to pay attention!

The PIT was napping when I made this discovery so I took that as an opportunity to pick a fight with the drug lord.

First, I went down to the basement, also a place I rarely went, mostly out of fear of finding drugs…..but that day I went. I went into the room that I later found out my husband was smoking meth in, a room I hadnt been in for a very long time. There on the shelf was the bottle of ZipStrip paint thinner I was after……..I poured the bottle of ZipStrip paint thinner into a super soaker that was in my basement for some unknown reason….I figured it was a sign from God to use it in my mission.

I called the drug lord who had his Lexus in my garage and asked him what the hell was going on. He told me that Mr Meth and him had gotten in a bit to deep with the latino drug lords and were now on their shit list, so naturally, they decided to hide the Lexus in my garage.  Terrific. Using my garage to hide your car from latino drug lords that you have pissed off. How thoughtful. Especially since I had made myself more than clear that I wanted NO part of any of this nonsense….none.  At least I had thought I made myself clear…..apparently not….so I told the owner of the Lexus that I was on my way out to the garage with my super soaker full of ZipStrip paint thinner and I was going to write “CRACKHEAD” on the hood of his beloved Lexus.

Within moments he was at my garage ready to relocate his car….but not before I could scream every possible obsinity at him and called him every bad name a person could call an asian….all of my neighbors were outside at his point…..curious as to what the crazy lil white girl was screaming about.  They soon found out…..I made it clear that this person as well as my soon to be ex husband were worthless drug addicts and I had no part nor did I want any part of the horse shit they were into. In fact, I yelled to all my neighbors…..”if you see either of these fuckers anywhere near my house PLEASE call the cops….  they are most likely wanted for some crime somewhere”.  After this chaos I created in my own front yard had gotten way out of hand the police did arrive but my worthless turd of a husband and his drug lord associate had already fled.  However, at least now, EVERYONE knew that I personally wanted no part of his illegal activity and the neighbors soon took the action to call the police whenever Mr Meth slithered back my direction.  I also knew, that I had brought this chaos into their quiet little neighborhood.  I knew I had to move…..I was always gonna be the crazy white chick screaming at the asian drug lords with the cops at her house weekly.  Yuck…..nightmare neighbor!  Nightmare reality is what I was living….

When enough is enough

Sometimes it feels like the world is closing in around me……holding me down and choking the life right outta me.

choking

Sometimes I feel like I’m screaming for help at the top of my lungs, naked and on fire but noone even bats a lash.

getout

Sometimes I just wanna flip the world the bird and ride off into the sunset.

Somethings gotta give or I’m gonna fucking explode.

The stress of work, debt, the kid, single parenting is making me insane, I’m allergic to life apparently.

So what. Im a RockStar and It’s my party so I’ll cry if I want to.

I love/hate/love/hate/love my job and the frustration of banging my effing head against a brick wall has become to be a lil too much for me.  Mostly love my job but loath my “surroundings”

There are several things wrong with this –

I hate the fact that for some reason I’m the bad guy for expecting things to be done properly and efficently.

I’m not the problem here I’m simply the loudest.

And I cuss like a fuckin trucker….

I also carry my stress with me in a much different way than most. A far more exhausting way…I’m fucking beat…I need a break…just 5 minutes to catch my breath.

The stress of fighting an endless battle at a job that really isn’t worth it, is over. Physically ill due to the stress and anxiety caused by one stupid job is over.

I quit.

I resigned.

Enough is enough.

How many times was I going to let that job send me to the ER in a panic attack of pure frustration?! I LIKE things done accurately and properly. THAT is not a bad thing. Unless you’re lazy and set in your half ass ways that will one day bite you and your business in the ass. (just sayin)

With that stress over and almost behind me, I search for the strength to look to the future. One thing I know for certain, in this, the most uncertain time of my life post divorce, is that I am a survivor and I will find *my* happiness.

A special thanks to Morgan….her The Land between has been a *huge* help to me in the last few weeks as I went through a lil bit of a shitstorm :)

it’s time to exercise these demons

I need a minute to catch my breath. I think Em says it best at this point. He’s right. It is time to exercise these demons. Game on bitches~

I’m not afraid to take a stand
Everybody come take my hand
We’ll walk this road together, through the storm
Whatever weather, cold or warm
Just let you know that, you’re not alone
Holla if you feel that you’ve been down the same road

Yeah, It’s been a ride…
I guess I had to go to that place to get to this one
Now some of you might still be in that place
If you’re trying to get out, just follow me
I’ll get you there

You can try and read my lyrics off of this paper before I lay ‘em
But you won’t take this thing out these words before I say ‘em
Cause ain’t no way I’m let you stop me from causing mayhem
When I say ‘em or do something I do it, I don’t give a damn
What you think, I’m doing this for me, so fuck the world
Feed it beans, it’s gassed up, if a thing’s stopping me
I’mma be what I set out to be, without a doubt undoubtedly
And all those who look down on me I’m tearing down your balcony
No if ands or buts don’t try to ask him why or how can he
From Infinite down to the last Relapse album he’s still shit’n
Whether he’s on salary, paid hourly
Until he bows out or he shit’s his bowels out of him
Whichever comes first, for better or worse
He’s married to the game, like a fuck you for christmas
His gift is a curse
, forget the earth he’s got the urge
To pull his dick from the dirt and fuck the universe

I’m not afraid to take a stand
Everybody come take my hand
We’ll walk this road together, through the storm
Whatever weather, cold or warm
Just let you know that, you’re not alone
Holla if you feel that you’ve been down the same road

Ok quit playin’ with the scissors and shit, and cut the crap
I shouldn’t have to rhyme these words in the rhythm for you to know it’s a rap
You said you was king, you lied through your teeth
For that fuck your feelings, instead of getting crowned you’re getting capped

And to the fans, I’ll never let you down again, I’m back
I promise to never go back on that promise, in fact
Let’s be honest, that last Relapse CD was “ehhhh”
Perhaps I ran them accents into the ground

Relax, I ain’t going back to that now
All I’m tryna say is get back, click-clack BLAOW
Cause I ain’t playin’ around
There’s a game called circle and I don’t know how
I’m way too up to back down
But I think I’m still tryna figure this crap out
Thought I had it mapped out but I guess I didn’t
This fucking black cloud still follow’s me around
But it’s time to exercise these demons
These motherfuckers are doing jumping jacks now!

I’m not afraid to take a stand
Everybody come take my hand
We’ll walk this road together, through the storm
Whatever weather, cold or warm
Just let you know that, you’re not alone
Holla if you feel that you’ve been down the same road

And I just can’t keep living this way
So starting today, I’m breaking out of this cage
I’m standing up, Imma face my demons
I’m manning up, Imma hold my ground
I’ve had enough, now I’m so fed up
Time to put my life back together right now

It was my decision to get clean, I did it for me
Admittedly I probably did it subliminally for you
So I could come back a brand new me, you helped see me through
And don’t even realise what you did, believe me you
I been through the ringer, but they can do little to the middle finger
I think I got a tear in my eye, I feel like the king of
My world, haters can make like bees with no stingers, and drop dead
No more beef flingers, no more drama from now on, I promise
To focus soley on handling my responsibility’s as a father
So I solemnly swear to always treat this roof like my daughters and raise it

You couldn’t lift a single shingle on it
Cause the way I feel, I’m strong enough to go to the club
Or the corner pub and lift the whole liquor counter up
Cause I’m raising the bar, I shoot for the moon
But I’m too busy gazing at stars, I feel amazing and

I’m not afraid to take a stand
Everybody come take my hand
We’ll walk this road together, through the storm
Whatever weather, cold or warm
Just let you know that, you’re not alone
Holla if you feel that you’ve been down the same road

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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……

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....

What color was my what?!

It was once said that I was lucky that I hadn’t been burnt so bad by love that Id completely given up.

Clearly a memo was missed.

I happen to think that having your “husband” cheat on you with not one but two crackwhores, in your own home, while you’re giving birth is the kinda burn that can leave an incredibly massive blister on your heart.   And that’s only part of the fire Ive endured with misplaced love.

Shit, I have an entire post dedicated to reasons that I WONT date, plus I revoked my own rights to date until I was 30.

Fuck that noise….Im done. Keeping my heart in my pocket bitches.

Mhhmmmm….thats what Ive said for the last 7 years.

I convinced myself ages ago that there would be no happily ever after for me, it was going to be me and the PIT until she turned 18 and leaves me to chase her dreams (not boys) thus leaving me….destined to be the old cat lady. I wasn’t super stoked about it or anything but I had accepted it.  Ill get a fat lazy cat and yell “GET OFF MY LAWN” like Clint Eastwood did in Gran Torino.

(Badass flick btw..)

My outlook on my future as a single momma changed with one question outta the PIT’s mouth.

“What color was your wedding dress momma?”

gown

Motherfuck. It hits me. This is gonna be interesting…..

My daughter LOVES weddings….she loves everything about weddings, the music, the food, the chicken dance, (most recently she learned the Macarana) but most of all….she LOVES the brides that look like princesses.

So….how the fuck am I going to explain my “wedding”?!?!?

“I didn’t have a wedding dress” I replied.

“Why? What did you wear to the church” the PIT inquired.

*Motherfuck*

“Ahhhhhhh….well, I didn’t get married in a church.” I said

“Well then how did you get married?!” she squealed as if implying that I had been lying this whole time & never actually had been married.
*Pssshhh I wish*

“There are lots of way to get married darling…lotsa places…its not always in a church. Some people get married on a beach or in the woods or something…” I said (yeah…like that’s helping dumbass)

“Did you get married on a beach?!” the PIT asked almost hopeful
*Way to bring up the beach stupid*sweetbeach

“No.” I said as I tried to come up with some way to make this sound not so obscured in her simple lil mind. Turns out…it cant be done. “I got married at the courthouse by the Justice of the Peace” I said with a hint of shame in my voice.

*What a LAMEASS story! How disappointing! She LOVES weddings and wedding stories and I don’t have SHIT to tell her.

“Why?” she asked

“Because” —–Yes that’s all I said. So I left out the “because I was knockered” part…itll come.

“Who was there?” asked the PIT with a very puzzled look on her face….the one that says “Im not buying this because shit momma”

“Auntie” I said

“That’s IT?! She screetched “Was nana there? Or Uncle?”

shockedpeople

*Hmmm well that would have been tough considering I got married on a Saturday and called my family on Sunday night all “Oh hey btw…..I got married yesterday soooooooooo get off my back”

“Just Auntie” I said “That’s all we wanted…just a small, personal ceremony, it was very nice” I said

*Amazing I know. I managed to say that without projectile vomiting. I took a lot of Xanax but I did it.

Ill continue to do it because the PIT loves to hear stories…even though this particular story sucked and its hard for me to talk about him without wanting to puke….she loves to hear stories.

I think Id be ripping her off pretty badly if I didnt at least attempt to tell her any stories….

I think Id be ripping us both off if I didnt at least try to love again

There once was a man…

There once was a man, who made this girl feel something…..even though it didnt work out the way I had hoped…I cannot ignore it, deny it, or hide from it–I do indeed want to love someone and I do want to be loved.  I’m never going to have that chance if I keep running away from it.  Admitting I have feelings is really fucking hard for me…..but it’s harder to convince myself that its just not worth it…not when I honestly miss the way I felt when I wrote this….and why the hell should I?   

158

When “our” song comes on the radio I cant help but grin….when I get a “good morning princess” text (everyday) my guts get all shakey and again I find myself grinning. 

 He makes me smile….giggle and laugh….a lot.

  MakeAGirlLaugh

When he sends flowers to my office #just cuz he makes me giggle and blush like a girl which is something I very rarely let people know….yes…turns out I am a girl….I do indeed have a heart and feelings. (fuck with em and Im still prepared to go all crazy white bitch on ya)

 

He makes me think..…think of things that Ive long since forgot about. 

couple

Ok fine.

  I never forgot about them, I just buried them in the depths of my being because admitting that they were there hurt and that sucks.  

Daydreaming of slow dancing on a beach near a bonfire, holding hands strolling city streets with a man that I adore and equally adores me…

Couplecc

..all seemed pointless to a girl like me. 

Wishing and wanting something that youve already convinced yourself that youve missed your chance at is torture when all you can see are the shattered remains of what your life once was….the mistakes that youve made….

However, now when I think about these “things”, Im not afraid. Im not hurt…in fact….Im grinning…AGAIN. So many ideas, dreams, wishes and wants come flooding into my mind…so many things that Ive been so terrified of…..suddenly bring a smile to my face….

“ What I need is someone who will make me do what I can.”  Ralph Waldo Emerson

 together

This quote struck one of those rockstar nerves….it makes sense to me.  I dont need to be told what to do or where to go or how to do it….I need someone who smiles, takes me by the hand, pulls my lazy bum up off the sofa and says “Come on baby…lets conquer the fucking world together…..or hit the road, see where we end up and lay in the back of my truck…we’ll roll with it…together”

 5

 

It’s not my mood. It’s my duty to be one fabulous bitch.

Alright so here’s the dilly yo. 

 I’ve been trippin lately….over my own self contempt.

 Why? Because I can. 

 And because I let myself forget that just because I can, doesn’t mean that I have to.

  I mean seriously, when have I ever been known to follow the rules? 

I’m not going to lie, I’m pretty fucking tough when push comes to shove.  I will rip your face off to protect the ones I love.

  Recently however, it was proven that I am indeed a girl, I am human, and I am capable of loving…..turns out, I’m not a cold hearted, numb and bitter, man hating bitch. 

 I’m simply a bitch and I like that. 

 I’m tired of being told how to “be a better person”, how to improve myself, how to love, how to be happy

 (FYI–this *positive thinking* thing ppl keep shoving down my throat is crap. No amount of *positive thinking* is every going to replace the power of prayer in my life)

 when to love, when not to, whats right, whats wrong, what Im ‘suppossed’ to feel. 

Who the hell determines what’s right for whom? 

When did I start caring what other people thought about me?!

  (Ok so I know when that happened but Im not sharing that detail right now…I dont want to & as I was saying….i dont have too) 

For a moment I let fear take over and the voices pointing out all of my flaws were obnoxiously loud.

I overlooked who’s judgement will actually matter in the end & that the judgement will have NOTHING to do with the men, good or bad, that have come and gone out of my life

  IM HUMAN–shit happens. 

My heart took a hit and my pride slipped briefly…Im not perfect…Im fucking fabulous. 

 I’m on a new mission….not one that’s just for ladies and moms…basically its like this-I do not care if you’re a man, woman, father, mother, married, single, blah blah fucking blah…none of that matters to me.

Far too often good people go unacknowledged…..Im going to change that. 

Revisiting my mission…

I generally keep quiet when it comes to talking about relationships shhlet’s face it…I don’t know shit about relationships

Or do I?

Depends how ya look at it I guess.

When I rip on my girlfriends (I’m always the bad friend reminding your girlfriends that they deserve betterwhisper so…step up your game before approaching my friends) they look at me like “yeah yeah…says SINGLE you” and with that look I’ll generally bite my tounge and continue to bash their boyfriends in my mind.

After all, who am I to say shit about relationships.

Well, when it comes to having a successful relationship, yes, I dont know Jack shit.

 Marriage

However, when it comes to royally fucking up your life because of bad relationships, poor choices, letting it slide one to many times, hoping this is the last time he pulls that crap, crushing your soul because of you simply loved the wrong person far too much…when it comes to self destructing because of “him”…I know quite a bit.

 4xy

I can bitch and yell at my girls all I want…bust their mans balls day after day…in the end however it’s always up to them.  I was once the girl getting scolded for making excuses for the worthless turd….the one that wanted it to work so badly I overlooked things, let shit slide…believed him when he promised that this was the last time.

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I’ve been there…I know…lemme tell ya..some shits just plain unacceptable.

I hope my daughter never forgets for a second that she deserves nothing less than the best.

I hope that by telling my stories..women will be concious of their self worth and will never settle just so they’re not alone. It’s better to be alone and true to ones self than it is to sacrafice a shred of yourself to be with him…

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To thyne own self be true.

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I’m making it my mission to be the voice that wispers to women everywhere “you deserve what you accept” and reminds them “To thyne own self be true“.

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The girl with the scars and souvieners to tell the stories that only further prove the lesson Ive learned to be true…….

you only deserve what you accept.

She misses her what?

As I said before…terminating Mr Meths parental rights is one choice I’ve always been certain was right.  However, being right doesn’t mean there isn’t a little heartbreak here & there…….

“Momma?” she said in a quiet tone.

I turned to look at her and she had tears in her eyes…she started to bawl

“I really miss my daddy” she sobbed.  “I haven’t seen him since I was a baby and I think about him a lot” she says “I just really miss my daddy”

My heart breaks every time we do this.

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I scooped her up in my arms and squeezed her tightly as she continued to cry.  As always, I started to tear up, it kills me to see her so sad and upset.  It pisses me off so fucking much to watch this little girl cry her eyes out over that worthless fuck.

I can feel it creeping back in…the anger, the hate, the pure disgust I have for that man.  How dare you break her fucking heart like this! For what fucko?! Meth!?! “ I hope you choke on the next hit you take bitch” I think to myself “I fucking hate you”.  My gut aches as I fill with anger….my heart breaks as my child cries in my arms, as her tears run down my chest one tiny shattered piece of my heart runs down with it.

tears fall

She looks up at me with teary eyes and asks “Don’t you miss daddy?”

UUMMMMMM…….FUCK!

Do I miss the man that I divorced?  The man who cheated on me in MY house while I was giving birth, the motherfucker who threatened me and tormented me with his insane ways once he discovered meth, the man who warned me to sleep with one eye open, the man that I was so terrified of that I literally slept with you next to me every night so I was sure he wasn’t going to take you from me? The man that looked at me, cold and empty, and asked “how do I know you’re not fucking wired?!”  No…..I don’t miss him one fucking bit. In fact the thought of him makes me want to vomit….the thought of him fills me with so much rage I honestly think I could rip his face off if given the opportunity.  How the hell could I miss THAT?!  I also don’t miss the person that I was when I was “married” to him.  Scared, hurt, bitter (more bitter than I currently am), depressed, hating myself…..I don’t miss any of that.  I wish I could erase all of those memories that haunt me….just wipe em out.  If I didn’t remember it so well, if I didn’t still feel a bit scared, if I wasn’t constantly looking over my shoulder…..maybe this “missing daddy” thing wouldn’t be as hard.

Yeah right….I don’t think anything could make this kinda thing any easier.

Although, thanks to a very wise and caring man, I was reminded of one simple fact that did indeed help.  I may know who he was, who he became, the things (and whores) he did…..the PIT doesn’t.  She doesn’t actually miss Mr Meth because she never knew him…..she just knows that theres a void in her life where her daddy should be….

I can be the most awesomest momma ever in the world

rockstar000

and its not going to fill that “daddy” void.

I have to accept that theres nothing I can do about that.

Missing is a natural emotion and having a dad is a natural thing so of course shes going to miss having a dad.  I cant fix that….mostly because its not broken.  Its natural….part of life….a test of my strength.

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I may hate Mr Meth but the PIT has no idea that I do.  I intend to keep it that way.

I wont spew my hatred for that assclown on my child….thats what you’re here for.

Thank you~