Home Again, Home Again

Absurdity and anti—absurdity are the two poles of creative energy.” – Karl Lagerfeld

I promised I would write every day. When that didn’t work out I promised every week. Now here I am writing almost three weeks after my last post.

I’m not sure how it happened. Other than the fact that for the past three weeks I have been home, reveling in the happiness of being here.

There really is nothing like being home. I truly missed the way things are in the South. I missed my friends. I missed my family.

Being here has upped my spirits so much. I don’t want to leave again, and in three weeks we’ll pack up and drive back home.

So here I am thinking of what I want to write about, and nothing comes to mind. The truth is I don’t want to stir up the past and subject myself to the hurtful feelings that come along with.

I want to continue on my happiness high. I want to keep sleeping in, eating fried okra, and drinking sweet tea. Why ruin that? Why take away this great feeling but talking about my abusive childhood, loss of a loved one, and any type of darkness.

I’m smiling, and laughing. I’m spending time with Luke and Leia. I’m happy, and with my happiness comes a guard.

I’m never too sure if I’m truly happy or manic. The secret is I enjoy being manic. The happiness, energy, OCD, all of it.

Am I manic now, or just happy to be home? It doesn’t matter to me.

I’m here smiling, and I can’t let anything take that away. Not yet anyway.

So maybe I’ll write tomorrow, or maybe I won’t write again until I get home. That is the joy of writing for pleasure, there is no deadline.

Advertisements

Wednesday Confession #6

“It’s life. You don’t figure it out. You just climb up on the beast and ride.” ― Rebecca Wells, Divine Secrets of the Ya-Ya Sisterhood

When my husband was first offered his job across country I was extremely happy. The thought of being in a brand new place and seeing a part of the country I had never been to really sounded amazing. We talked a great deal about him taking this job ahead of time. This wasn’t a rash decision. We went back and forth a hundred times trying to decide if this was something that we should do, if it would be best for our family. In the end we weighed all the options and decided we would do it.

Anakin was to sign a two year contract, and when those two years were up we’d move back home. That had always been the plan. But, as always, things change.

Moving across country felt like going to Disney World for the first time for me. I had lived a pretty crappy life. I was poor, had drug addict abusive parents. My childhood was the definition of terrible. So when Anakin first brought up the idea of leaving the South and moving out west, I was honestly happy.

When we first arrived things were pretty good. There was no humidity so the weather was like heaven. People were so laid back. No one cared about you backgrounds or skin color or any of that. The food options were healthy. Drug crime was way lower. The schools were so much better. Leia fit in so well. She was learning so much, and she was for once actually on the same level as most of her peers. No longer was she getting in trouble because she was bored at school. It truly is a beautiful place.

But adjusting to being someplace else 22000 miles away was much harder than I could of imagined. I was no longer within driving distance of anyone I knew. I had no idea where I was going half the time. I understood nothing, and I tired, really tried, to adjust.

I tried to make friends and as it turns out I am pretty terrible at it. I mean it took probably two years before my best friend even became my friend, and I’m fairly sure she didn’t like me at first.

I learned the roads, I leaned the talk, I did all the things I needed to do to really try to fit in.

But, and full confession here, I hate it. Moving across country is the most depressing thing I have ever done. I have no one to blame for this but myself. I could have fought Anakin on this. I could have made a million rebuttals on why we shouldn’t pack up and move. Our family, friends, life was what we were leaving behind. Everything we had ever known.

But I didn’t. I let the idea of having something better glaze over the fact that we already had something really great. We traded our three bedroom with a den, huge back yard, brick house for a two bedroom apartment. This apartment was meant to be temporary. It was meant to be a place we never truly called home. What we didn’t realize was that the cost of living was so high that we could not afford a second deposit to move once our lease was up. Our rent was literally twice our mortgage at home. So, we are stuck in this two bedroom apartment tripping over one another because we are at capacity.

We we’re supposed to have more money to do things we never thought possibly. Only due to the cost of living, we are worse off than when we left home. Even though Anakin works a ton of overtime we still struggle more than we have at any point of our lives together.

Before we moved I had a great career. It wasn’t super awesome because I had to work nights and weekends sometimes, and I was salary so during holiday season I worked 50+ hours a week. But now, I can’t return back to the work I had back home. There are no daycares that would stay open on nights and weekends in order for me to be able to return back to work full time. We need Anakin’s over time, and any job I try to find outside of retail ends up not paying enough to justify taking on childcare outside of home. And we need a second income if we are to leave this crappy apartment.

The clutter makes my bipolar act up something awful. Anakin doesn’t seem to understand that when I look around all I see is this giant mess, and it either swings me into a giant depression or swings me into a manic episode where I tend to throw out things, sell things, and scrub the bathtubs until my fingers bleed.

I miss our house. I miss our family and friends. I miss the small town atmosphere. I miss everything about being at home. And I keep telling myself that Anakin’s contract is almost up. When it’s up we can go home. I even made a list of things we needed to get done, with a timeline of when they needed to be done in order to make this move super smooth.

However we have hit a snag. We’ve always had this plan lined out. Two years and we would going home. Two years of this struggle and it would nothing more than a cool experience we could talk about later. Things change. They always fucking change.

Anakin has been offered another job. This time about an hour where we live now. This company scouted him out at the direction of his current boss. This man knew Anakin’s abilities and saw he was not being used for is full potential. This man, who Anakin has worked for for five years, and who Anakin followed across the country, went to a company outside of their current one and bragged so much about him that they have offered him a better position with much more pay.

The location of the business is in a town where the cost of living is a bit lower than what we currently pay. We could actually rent a house. We could actually have that life we wanted to have when we first moved out west.

Anakin loves it here. He loves the weather, the scenery, he loves what he does. He wants this job. He has been to the interviews and listened to their offers. He has weighed his options and this all would be great for him. His eyes light up when he talks about it. He is so happy, how am I to tell him I don’t want him to take it.

I want to go home. I want to end these two years and go home. I want to raise my kids around their family. I miss my friends. I miss the southern comfort culture. What happens when I tell him that I don’t want this.

I promised to always support him. He has done nothing but be an excellent supporter for our family. He has worked his fingers to the bone making sure we had everything we ever needed. He hardly treats himself. He rarely even buys himself anything. So how am I supposed to tell this man, who I love more than anything, that I want him to say no to this great opportunity.

I know I sound selfish, and it hurts me so much. I am distraught. It’s hard to sleep and eat. I wonder if the best thing to do is to just support him. To just go along with things.

I just don’t know what to do, and in a short time I will be going home to visit. I will be staying a month so that our families can meet the new baby. I know that this trip will do nothing but make me even more homesick. I won’t want to leave. I’ll return depressed missing my life back home even more than when I left.

How do I do any of this? How do I ask him to make the sacrifice for me?

Wednesday Confession #5

“Though I am often in the depths of misery, there is still calmness, pure harmony and music inside me.” – Vincent Van Gogh

I don’t want to write today. I haven’t felt like writing all week. I was manic over the weekend, and now I am on the down swing. The down swings make me irrational, moody, and my body hurt like I have the flu.

I have two kids to take care of, a house to clean, meals to cook, and I just can’t seem to get up from the couch. Of course the kids are fine and taken care of. I just hate that I can’t take them outside, or to the pool. Instead we are just watching TV, or reading inside. The baby is fed and changed, but when he falls asleep I fall asleep. I have a list of things I need to do so we can hit the road on Sunday, and instead I am just sitting here.

I thought blogging may help motivate me. It’s not like I want to be wasting the day. I want to feel normal. I want to not have bipolar disorder. I want to just feel things normally. I tried drinking coffee, and eating lunch early. I even had a tuna wrap, disregarding the carbs to help boost me into some sort of positivity.

When I am like this I feel like a horrible wife and mother. I feel like I should just give up in general. Wouldn’t my family be better off without someone who goes through this regularly? Someone who can laugh, and be happy all the time?

I am no longer looking forward to our vacation. I am worried about all the things that could go wrong, and my paranoia is convincing me that we should stay home and forget the whole thing. Leia will be disappointed, but isn’t it better to stay inside where I know we will be safe?

Even if I could get the motivation to do SOMETHING, my mind races so much I can’t focus on one thing. My list of things to do just gets longer and longer. When I think about the kitchen needing be cleaned it more than just some dishes. I can see the crumbs in the toaster. I feel every speck of dust. I can’t get motivated to start bcause it will never be clean fully anyway. I have given up before I have gotten started.

Leia can always tell when I am on a down slope. She is an empath and feels everything around her. She walks on egg shells tries, too hard to be helpful, and apologizes for everything. I wish I could fake it just for her. I wish I could fake it enough to just do some laundry or clean the kitchen.

It has taken me over an hour to write this. I type a few words, and then I just get lost in my mind. I stare off for what feels like is a second, but turns out to be minutes. All I want to do is go back to bed and hope that tomorrow I feel better.

My confession for today is this: I think bipolar disorder isn’t fair. I don’t want to have to take my meds regularly, and I want to feel normal. Why can’t I be normal? Why was I stuck with this? Haven’t I been through enough in my life? It isn’t fair, and I hate it.

I hate more that I can’t seem to explain how I feel. Anakin doesn’t understand how I can go from okay to not in a second. He gets so frustrated with me, and I hate it. I worry that eventually it will all be too much for him.

I worry that i will eventually be too much for everyone I love.

5fbbc3c06bf1afacce575016384e5758

Wednesday Confession #4

“From the deepest desires often come the deadliest hate.” – Socrates

It has been a week since I have written. I wish that I had some great excuse as to why I haven’t, but the truth is I have just been spending time with my kids. Leia has been out of school for a little over two weeks now. Her and I have been working on the home school curriculum for the next grade level she will be in. Every summer we do this. I get the books, and spend time teaching her. I try to get her to finish before she goes to her dads. Last year was a disaster.

Anakin and I moved across country last April. Because there was only a month and a half left of school we decided she should finish the year at home. So, she stayed with her dad from mid April last year until the last two weeks of July. I missed her so much that the two weeks I had her before school started we just spent the time together.

The problem was that when school started, she struggled. She was in a new state, a new school, and she had done NOTHING over the summer. She was so depressed when she got home she said she was never going back to her dad’s again. What was supposed to be a fun-filled summer, turned into her watching tv inside, and her taking care of her little sister.

I sent things for her to do. Workbooks, books to read, games to play, all things to help challenge her. Except that is all she did other than sitting in front of the TV. When she told me about her summer stuck inside I felt horrible for her. The details were heart wrenching. Anakin and I got in touch with her dad and offered to send her to camps, but he wouldn’t let her even with zero cost to him. The worst part was that her dad worked all summer so she really spent it with her step-mom.

All of this leads into my next confession: I can not stand my daughters step-mother. We talk regularly, we joke, I give her clothes, I purchase things from her business, I compliment her, I say we are family, but it is ALL fake. Every single laugh, every single nice word, all of it.

She is young, right at 21. We all know she got pregnant on purpose in order to trap my ex-husband. She sells sex toys, and wears her name tag everywhere, including to my kid’s school for any event (when we lived at home that is). She dresses like a tramp. She has a disgusting social media site. She is loud, she is obnoxious, and worst of all she thinks she is goods gift to women and men.

She dyed her hair the same color as mine, and started picking up my old hobbies. She is naive to the point of thinking that she is making a difference by putting a homeless alcoholic man in her car with her one year old child, after agreeing to pet sit his dog while he goes to jail. She picks up any stray animal she finds, and because of that they own 13 animals currently in a small two bedroom house.

We have had it out many a time. On more than one occasion she has bad mouthed me to others, and to my face. She has said some pretty awful things. I don’t like the image and life style that she leads in front of my very impressionable child. Leia is at the age where she picks up on everything, and her “cool” step-mom worries the shit out of me.

The reality is Ms. Leslie lets Leia do anything she wants, because she feels that she has everything figured out. She has had the nerve to tell me when I have told Leia no, that I am hindering her independence. Because again, she knows everything.

I try to keep the peace for Leia. I include Ms. Leslie in most big decisions. I reach out to her, and try to remain “friends”. I am friends with her on many social networks, and tag her in most of my posts about Leia. I even send her mother day cards, Christmas presents, and birthday cards. But deep down, I wish she would just go away. I wish they would break up, and we would never have to worry about her ever again. She sets me off at the drop of hat.

She is a mother who feels the need to post half-naked pictures of her self constantly. She has an attitude like she is a “boss bitch”, when she has never even held a real job. The amount of screenshots I have sent to my sister in order to complain or laugh about is unreal.

Even now thinking about her just pisses me off. I would like nothing more than to tell her what a piece of trash I think she is.

And it isn’t just her know it all attitude, the slutty way she dress, or her vanity. It’s the way she treats my kid. One minute Leia is hers. She loves her, wants her around, etc. The next minute Leia isn’t even a part of her life.

There seems to always be “something” going on between my ex and Ms. Leslie. Their life is filled with so much drama.

Back when she got involved with him I tried to tell her. I went to her woman to woman, and told this poor girl that she was wasting her time with a man who was going to cheat, lie, and then ignore her. She was a novelty to him. He was able to take her around to his friends and brag about his young teenage girlfriend. She didn’t listen. So now after all these years, she has finally started to see the man he really is.

So, the two of them have decided that in order to save their relationship she will be allowed to have a girlfriend. Ms. Leslie, my kids “step-mother”, and I quote step-mother because they are not actually married, will have her baby daddy and a girlfriend.

Following her on social media I have found out that since the relationship with the girlfriend is new, she has not been home in over two weeks. She stays with the girlfriend even taking the child, that her and my ex share, with her.

And to be honest I have no idea how to handle this situation. None. I draw a blank. My brain can not even begin to think of how I am going to explain this to my daughter.

I am open-minded. I think same-sex couples should have every right that heterosexual couples do. Luke’s god mother is a lesbian. She was Anakin’s best lady at our wedding. Leia’s uncle is transgender. We are a well-rounded, open-minded household. Leia can date whomever she chooses, and we are perfectly fine with it. But how do I explain to her that her step-mother is with her dad, and with someone else?

This is just new territory for me, and honestly had it been anyone else I would be perfectly happy for them. But it isn’t. It’s her, and for that reason alone I am unable to understand any of it.

I know I will get over it, like I do anything else when it comes to Ms. Leslie. I will laugh about it much like I did when she announced her business of selling sex toys. I am sure that I will explain it to Leia just like I do with everything else that is strange coming from her dad’s house, by telling her when she is older and more able to understand.

I wish I didn’t hate this woman. I really do. I wish that my compliments and kind words were genuine. I wish we were best friends, raising a daughter together.

But we aren’t. Because of who she is, I can hardly be in the same room with her.

5b9251ff4095d9f394c07302755dbbc4

Wednesday Confession #3

“A bad system will beat a good person every time.” – W. Edwards Deming

Summer landed upon us full force. Before I could blink the kids were out of school, the temps hit 90º, and the pool was open. The first weekend of summer break Leia was stuck indoors because it poured down rain from Saturday morning until Monday night. But luckily on Tuesday the rain stayed away, and we spent the day at the park. Leia ran around playing making friends with everyone, like she always does. Luke and I lounged lazily in the shade on a blanket, him napping and me reading.

We tend to go the park closest to our home. It is a lovely park with a huge playground, basketball court, and lots of shady tree spots. The bathrooms are always so clean, and so is the park. I don’t mind spending the day there. It feels safe, clean, and fun for everyone.

We have been to this park so many times, but yesterday was a little different. As I watched Leia play a young man with down syndrome walked onto the park. He was having a wonderful time playing and most of the kids, who were a bit younger than him, let him play along. I watched as Leia invited him to swing with her, and listened to them chat. They talked about their favorite animals, books, and tv shows. The both like the show on Netflix Mia and Me.

At one point this young man who was so careful and kind, made his way to the seesaw. There were a few kids already on it, but they made room for him. It was nice watching them all play together. Soon, however, the kids were on to the next thing. I watched the young man, who I later found out was named Kyle and was 15 years old, try to use the seesaw alone. It didn’t take long, but one of the fathers ventured to him and politely asked if he could play too. The smile on Kyle’s face was the most beautiful thing I had seen all day. This dad seesawed with him for well over 20 minutes, this time until Kyle was ready to move onto the next thing.

Kyle made his way around the entire park speaking to everyone, and playing with all the kids. I watched smiling in amazement at how accepted this young man was by everyone there. After about an hour or so Kyle’s mother, who had come to park with him, motioned to him that it was time to go. As he we walked past me he noticed Luke sleeping. He became so excited. “Oh! A baby! I love babies!” he said to me looking down at Luke. Kyle asked me Luke’s name, and then asked me if he could touch him. I hesitated a second, and Kyle obviously saw this. He looked at me and said, “It’s okay I know I can only touch his hand. Mom says you can only touch babies hands.” I smiled and nodded my head. He reached over so slowly and rubbed Luke’s palm. “Hi baby Luke. Be good for your mommy!” he spoke softly, and then waved goodbye to me. My heart was filled with the happiness on this young man’s face.

Where is this going with my Wednesday Confession I am sure you are asking yourself at this point, and here it is:

This lovely occurrence was so amazing yesterday because where I was raised this wasn’t a normal thing. I have hard time reacting to anyone with special needs, not because I don’t want to but because I don’t know how. My parents raised us to stay away, far away. Don’t look at, talk to, and do not approach. That was what they told us regarding anyone with a special need. I am not sure why my parents were this way, but had they been at the park yesterday they would have snatched me up and taken me home. They treated anyone with a special need as a joke, or a contagious illness.

I knew when I was young that this was wrong. I hated it. I have strived with Leia to teach the importance that EVERYONE is important, EVERYONE is equal, NO MATTER what. I feel like I have done a good job. Leia only sees a person. She tries to be friends with everyone. I feel like this is an accomplishment for me, and yet I feel guilty because it shouldn’t be. I should have been raised better.

I admire my best friend so much. She is the type of person, like Leia, who will befriend anyone. I have watched her over the years treat every person exactly the same. She has a giant heart, and wears it on her sleeve. She will talk to anyone no matter who or what they are, and had she been at the park yesterday she would have made Kyle her very best friend. I want to be more like her.

I don’t want to struggle with not knowing how to react to anyone. I want to be a good person. I know I shouldn’t blame it on my upbringing, because I am making progress to not be the filth I was taught.

Yesterday gave me hope. Watching Leia swing with Kyle, and having a small conversation with him really made my day. I wish I could tell Kyle what an amazing person he is, because he showed me that I can be the person I want to be.

ee5f4d104b1861311dfaac8ce037405f

One Plus One Equals Two Plus One is Three

“I always joke with people that having nephews is the best birth control there is.” – Tahj Mowry

Tomorrow I get to venture to the gyno for my big birth control appointment. I am not sure why I am so nervous, but I am sitting here thinking about what I actually want. I know that my number one choice is to not take any form of birth control. I hate the hormones. I am so unhappy with my appearance I don’t want to take anything that is going to hinder me in my weight loss adventure that I started Monday.

I am roughly 100 pounds over weight. Hell, I never lost all the baby weight from when I had Leia. And now, I can’t even stand to look at my body in the mirror. I honestly don’t know how it happened. After I had Leia I lost 80 pounds. It was a ton of hard work, but somehow I managed to stay motivated enough to do it. But I never could lose that last 20 pounds. I tried gyms, the beach body diet, shakeology, and God knows what else. When it got to be too hard, I gave up.

Slowly over the last 10 years, I have put every bit of that 80 pounds back on. So you take that 80 pounds, add 20, and that’s what I feel is what I need to lose now in order to be happy in my own skin.

I wish I could just love myself the way I am. In today’s world it is so easy to just be happy with who you are. Being “plus size” is becoming the norm. I see tons of positivity posts on social media, and ads. I see so many plus size friends posting proud pictures of themselves, just being who they are. I want to be just like them! I want to wear pretty dresses, fix my hair, put on makeup, and stroll out of the house with a smile fifty miles wide!

But I can’t. I hate my body. I am disgusted by it. I can look down now and see my fat stomach roll bulging, and it makes me gag. I try to eat right, exercise, but I can’t seem to stick with anything. The last time I stuck with something, I gave it my all, and was in turn treated like crap from people I thought were my friends.

Self esteem is hard to have, especially when you know that what you are is not what you can be. I have accepted that I will never be a size OO every again. Hell, I won’t ever be a size 2 again. But a size 4 or 6, and I would cry. I just want to look at myself and feel the happiness that I see so many others radiating.

Going out in public is still one of the hardest things I have done. Today, I took Luke and Leia to the park. Leia was being her normal social self, making friends with everyone. Meanwhile Luke and I perched out in a shady spot, sitting on a nice blanket. Luke snored away, as I read a book. It felt nice, until I looked around. I was the fattest mom, if not the fattest person, at this park. It was hot and I ended up putting on a sweatshirt, because I couldn’t stand thinking of what the other mothers thought of me.

They all looked so amazing, and here I was sitting my fat ass on a blanket. I felt judged, and I am sure none of them paid me any mind. It took all I had to stay in my spot for the three hours that Leia enjoyed playing. I just want to take my kids to the park, and not worry about how others see me.

I am in the midst of cleaning out my closet. I have a ton of clothes I am honestly far to big for. I know that I will never be able to wear them again, as much as I wish to be able to. I wish I could look at them and find that motivation to just kill it and lose this weight.

I wish I could just do it. I haven’t even started yet, and I am pretty sure I have already given up.

I know there are other options to birth control other than the pill, which is my least favorite option. I am the world’s worst when it comes to remembering to take a pill every day. I am leaning toward getting an IUD, but even that scares me. I have heard that they hurt, and that they can cause a lot of problems. I have researched and asked opinions, but I can not decided what I want to do.

The reality is we can not afford a third child right now, so I have to figure out something before I see my doctor tomorrow. I can’t leave that office without some sort of birth control. I wish there wasn’t so many options. I wish my doctor would just say, “This is what you are doing.” and direct me where I need to go. I want someone to make this choice for me.

I honestly feel that this decision would be so much easier if there wasn’t so many birth control options. The pill, IUD, ring, shot, patch, sponge, cap, condoms, and so many others. That isn’t counting the hundreds of brands for each, prices, and side effects. If I could just narrow it down to even three choices I might feel a bit more comfortable choosing one.

My head is spinning with information, questions, and worry. What if I choose the wrong kind? What if it makes me sick? What if it doesn’t even work? I am lost, and fairly certian thatt come tomorrow morning I will still have no idea what I want to do.

83431f3b6ab870633f6d7db9da7daea5

Do You Think of Me?

“A friendship that can cease has never been real.” – St. Jerome

Tonight is one of those nights where I can’t sleep. I lay in bed listening to Anakin snore, and little Luke breath. I close my eyes, try to block out the thoughts, and they just seem too big. I want to sleep. I am so tired, but these thoughts have my heart so heavy.

How do you get over a broken heart? That is what keeps me awake tonight. My poor broken heart.

My heart isn’t broken from an ex lover. I have never loved anyone the way that I do Anakin. My heart is broken from the loss of a friendship.

I don’t understand how I can let the loss of a friendship hurt me so much. I’ve had relationships that lasted longer. I’ve cried more about this than my divorce. I think more about her than my ex husband. How can I be so hurt by someone that broke my heart, and have never been in love with them? I only loved them.

I was dumped by this person over four years ago, and yet it still hurts. I can’t help but wonder if after everything if they also think about me.

We were friends, good friends. We talked everyday. This person, she was one of the few real friends I ever had. I felt so close to her. She asked me to be in her wedding. We spent a lot of time together. I told her everything.

And then one day…she just stopped talking to me. I still don’t know what happened. She just went away. There was no explanation. Just nothing.

Later I saw her a few times and she just spoke to me causally. That hurt more. There was no apology. She had even replaced me. Someone else had taken my place and I was ignored in public. We had a similar group of friends and I had to watch all of them look at their special friendship, their close bond knowing that we were once there.

I reached out once, met her for lunch. I wanted to confront her and ask what happened. But I got scared. We just chatted and that was it.

I often think about texting her, and just asking her what I did. Telling her how hurt I was. Even aplogizing.

You’d think I’d be over it by now, but I’m not.

So it keeps me awake tonight.