Monday, July 6, 2015
"I killed my babies."
That's the thought that goes through my mind at the most random of times. Laying in bed, staring at the ceiling, willing sleep to come, I think, "I was given one job. To protect my baby boys." And I failed. You'll either understand that. Or you won't. I went through hell to get pregnant. Shots, scan, hormones, pills, hope, disappointment...
Monday, June 15, 2015
I've loved 2 men, completely. One my dad, the other J.
My dad has never let me down, has always had my back and has never left me feeling insignificant or that I didn't matter.
J was the answer to so many prayers and dreams. After a divorce from a man I knew was wrong, losing a stepson I raised and loved, having my self confidence wrecked becasue he found he liked girlfriends more than me, my self confidence was nothing.
Meeting J, it was something so special. He's gregarious, he's outgoing, the life of the party. After feeling completely isolated and ignored, he made me feel beautiful, important and special.
Life wasn't perfect, it was quite hard. There were a lot of road blocks thrown at us but we maneuvered our way around them, together.
We lived life. So fully and completely. We raised kids who had completely hectic, full schedules, we laughed til we cried, we loved each other and I had never felt more loved, special and protected than I did with him. In his arms, I was safe and more content than I'd ever been.
Losing the boys changed us. We grieved and dealt with things differently and as much as I wanted to be "ok" for him, I couldn't even be "ok" with myself until I had put in the sweat equity that comes with grief.
And then when I got to the place I could take care of others becasue I could, finally, take care of myself, he was gone.
I can't blame him. Life, those months after the deaths of our boys, was hell. There were days I didn't get out of bed. The thought of doing anything more than breathing was overwhelming because I was drowning in the pain of still living when my heart had died. Twice.
You can't make people stick around for the "better" after the "worse" has made them hate you.
I didn't cheat. I didn't lie.
The loss of the boys is a pain that lessens because the reminders aren't there everyday. I'd say, with that, that the pain is sometimes worse because the reminders come out of nowhere.
But I lost them, and I survived.
Losing my best friend, the one who wrote me poems, who would come to my defense to anyone who looked at me cross, the man who was at most every dr's appt during the rollercoaster of getting pregnant and after, to not leaving my side during the stay in the hospital is a pain and loss like one I've never experienced.
So I don't know how to navigate.
We are past the point of reconciliation, we are living completely separate lives and have for a long time.
We each moved on differently.
He with the kids and dog.
Me without anything other than myself.
Is this a pathetic blog about a girl that can't move on?
I'd like to think not.
I've dated, I've been "over" the loss of us for awhile because I didn't have a choice.
If he came back to me tomorrow, I know we wouldn't be compatible anymore because too much has changed. We have grown in completely opposite places.
Doesn't stop the pain of not having your best friend in your everyday life. I'm facing decisions that would be really comforting to have another opinion on.
But I'm here, just me.
I was made for more than I am. I'm successful at my job, I have financial stability that affords me the ability to breathe. Which is great.
But I'm also lonely.
I'm successful as a sales person. It feeds a part of my soul, the closing and negotiating of deals, and I'm not myself without that.
But I was made for more.
I'm a wife. I'm a mom.
Without a family.
My heart desires that, more than anything, and after the chaos of such a full life, the silence of being alone is deafening.
I've been great, really just good and at peace. My job has been more than successful. My family and friends are ao incredibly supportive.
So I feel pathetic for crying over something that is gone.
Not the boys, I couldn't have done anything to save them. And that is a guilt and pain you don't know unless you've delivered, and lost, 2 babies.
What is gone is the life I had with a best friend who I thought knew me better than anyone else. Who was still willing to walk away from me, the person he knew so well.
If that doesn't make you feel invisible, inadequate and unworthy, I'm not sure what would.
I have felt, for awhile, because I love that man so much, that I would give up all the healing I've fought for, to give him some peace, because I know I'm strong enough to fight my way out of the darkness again if it meant that someone I loved didn't hurt.
Then the benefit of social media smacks me in the gut and shows me that he is happy. He's ok. He's as handsome as ever and his smile is brighter than I was able to put on his face.
He's moved on.
I guess it's time for me to do the same.
I have a lot of blessings waiting for me in heaven. My heart, as damaged as it is, believes I'll have some more blessings here on earth, too.
So, what more can I do than this? I'll put a smile on my face, I'll continue to live my life and will be confident that God has laid the dreams on my heart for the sole purpose of knowing it will be because they will come to be.
Life is hard. Some days suck a whole lot more than others.
I have loved a lot of people. I've lost a great number of them but I'm thankful that it hasn't, nor will I allow it, to harden my heart to not continue to love, hope and believe.
I'm just a crazy gal, with a lot to say about the realities of this hard knock of life.
Wednesday, May 20, 2015
Crazy how it works huh?
Heard a song "some days are diamonds some days are stone..."
Couldn't have said it better myself.
I've had 5 new cars in 7 years.
I've lived in 7 places in 10 years.
I've had 2 husbands in 10 years.
I've had a part in raising and loving and/or giving birth to 6 kids in 10 years.
Answering basic questions should be easy, what's your last name? "Neu, No? Umm, Billington? Harris? Address, Lanier? No? Um, Capital Dome?"
The only thing I have left out of that is a new car and MEEE!
I don't let a lot of weeds grow beneath my feet, not because I've had a choice in most of this but because it's the hands I've been dealt. And I'm playing them.
Life hasn't made much sense in the past few years. I've been up, I've been down. I've been full of joy, I've been full of sorrow. Sometimes in the same day, sometimes in the same hour. If that's not confusing, I don't know what is.
The past few months I've had a change in perspective. I've changed my prayers from what I want, to thanking God, out loud, for the things I have. There's something very real about driving down the road, praying out loud, tears streaming down your face, thanking God for a life you have when it doesn't make sense.
I've been on the receiving end of so much kindness and support, I'm overwhelmed. I try not to let the well meaning people's sentiments hurt but sometimes they do. Because as much as people try to understand, truth is, most people can't. And that's a lonely enough place to be, in and of itself, without their advise that sometimes makes you want to punch a wall.
My life, over the past few months, has been crazy. In just a really good way, completely nuts, but still just crazy.
I've made some really hard decisions that broke my heart, but also, set me free.
If that's not heavy, I don't know what is.
I let my embryos go. I sold my wedding ring, I traded in the car I had that shouldn't mean anything but did because, that too, was something that held a lot of memories.
I've picked myself up, every single day, and made a conscience decision to live.
That day. Day by day.
Mother's Day nearly killed me. I expected to breeze thru it but I didn't. I cried for 3 days straight.
But I made it through.
Seems silly to say but what hasn't killed me, truly has made me stronger.
Hear this though, I didn't just decide to "start living again." I didn't just wake up one day ok.
I made a decision, each time I felt like I was suffocating, to keep breathing. That each time I felt like I was drowning, to keep swimming. When I was crushed by the weight of everything I've lost, to truly let myself rest in the knowledge that if God was asking me to release what I've known and loved, it was because He has greater for me.
That's not lip service. I believe it.
With tears running down my face, I believe it.
I'm strong. Stronger than I ever imagined I'd have to be but a funny thing happens when you lose your heart.
It grows again.
If you let it.
I've made the decision that I'm not ok with how things are. I won't accept that things can't be better because, if that were true, I'd never be in the position I'm in where I have more than I ever expected.
It's not what I wanted. It's not what I prayed for and it's not what I expected my life to be, it's a different kind of ok.
That's the funny thing about life.
We don't script it. We simply love it.
That's not fair to me or the journey I've been on.
You can either get thru life feeling, being present and growing from the pruning or you can die on the vine because you're not willing to hurt.
More than I ever imagined one person could.
But I made it through.
I didn't just decide today to start enjoying life. I didn't just wake up one day and feel better. It's a process, it's a long and heavy road of confusion and chaos, and because I hurt, because I felt, because I went through the pain, I'm able to look forward to the beauty that is in front of me.
I've never lost myself. I've lost a lot. I've lost an entire family, my world shifted and changed and I sometimes I don't know my address, my name or where I'm going next but I'm confident in this.
Life is hard.
But my will to have what I want and deserve and have worked so hard to have is stronger than any pain I've faced.
I didn't get here alone. I got here with an army of beautiful people, a God whose grace is more abundant than anything I've ever known and a desire to make every single blessing more beautiful because of the pain I've allowed myself to feel.
Life is hard.
Let me say this, if someone shares with you a piece of their heart, even if it doesn't mean much to you, it took courage for them they probably don't feel too confident in. Acknowledge it. Be human enough to give them something back. Even if it's small. What may seem insignificant to you may go a long way in healing someone's brokeness.
Seems silly not to do something as simple as a text, phone call, email back that literally takes seconds but could change someone's life. If you could do that, help someone's heart by being human enough to respond, wouldn't you?
What would be harder that the pain of loss, I think, is a life of regret, not lived out of fear.
Had I not loved so greatly, the pain wouldn't be so deep.
I'll never regret opening myself to the possibility of the pain that comes from having an open heart, because the love I've known has forever changed me and given me the courage, the strength and the fight to see how this story ends.
I'm halfway through. It's been a rollercoaster of crazy but it's not been boring.
I can rest in knowing this, I don't know what tomorrow holds but I know I'm strong enough to make the decisions to get me where I want to go.
High heels, sparkly soul and another last name.
Saturday, May 9, 2015
I've had this "life is what you make it"
and "don't wait for losing 20lbs, a man, a baby, to write a book until blah blah blah to do what you want to do" attitude lately.
I've thought, seriously, about taking a few weeks and traveling somewhere. Alone. Napa, Nantucket, I've even had a wild hair to get my passport and go somewhere I've never been and do things I've never experienced, with just me because right now, well, it's just me.
Then I do something alone and realize I hate being alone.
My Mom wanted to go to the Columbia for Mother's Day so I met them in St Augustine. I circled the restaurant for 20 minutes until I could navigate, with google maps, how to find it. In the midst of being lost, my mom calls and can hear the panic in my voice and asks where I am so I look to the left and say "beside Monkey Balls Cafe." My mom being my mom asks the host, "my daughter is lost, she's beside Monkey Balls Cafe, can you give her directions?"
In a sea of tourists, going down streets I was certain weren't meant for cars and passing up parking spaces because I can't parallel park to save my life, on the brink of hysteria.
With people everywhere. Everywhere!
I guess the historic old town doesn't believe in valet.
After nearly bumper checking clueless people walking in the middle of the street not hearing my obviously invisible car about to run them over, a verbal altercation with a parking attendant, and 14 3-point turns to make it into a spot, I finally made it to the restaurant.
Pissy and anxious but had a lovely dinner with my parents.
Part of being an adult is knowing your limitations and a vacation 45 mins from home at a beach resort where you don't have to leave the property is probably the closest to exotic vacations I'll get until I'm coupled up or have a higher dose prescription of Xanax.
So I do what any emotionally on the edge person does.
I went to the boy's tree.
My parents would have gone, they probably wanted me to ask them to go with me but as much as I hate being alone, somethings just feel like they need to be done in solitude.
My boy's tree is in a beautiful place. It's quiet, peaceful, healing, really just beautiful and as much as I hate it, I love it even more.
Their tree is growing like crazy. It's taller than me now. Amazing what 28 months can do for things.
I know people were staring at me. This crazy blonde, kneeling beside a tree, trying to take a selfie with the only thing I can that physically represents the passage of time without my boys, a grieving mother trying to pose in front of a tree.
I'm trying to wrangle the tree, snap a selfie, and looked up to see a family stopped in front of me. The dad and kids had kept walking but the mom wasn't even hiding that she was staring at me. I smiled, embarrassingly, then looked at her family and realized she had 2 boys, same age, same clothes, probably 3 year old twin boys, and I just laughed.
Because when you are at the tree where your boys ashes are buried and you see a mother staring at you with twin boys, there's not much else you can do.
I'll tell you something about life. And grief. And feelings in general.
They don't make sense.
I saw the bear I got the boys at Christmas, still there, beat up and probably assaulted by more than a few squirrels, but it's been there everytime I go. And still plays music when you press it's foot. So I'm sitting there listening to jingle bells, over and over, coming from this bear that's been through the elements, in front of a tree that is growing, with just myself, who is healing.
I go up to walk away, feeling pretty ok. Then the anxiety hit me. A full fledged anxiety attack there in the middle of this beautiful place. It always surprised me, each time I went to the boy's tree, that the bear was still there and I didn't realize how much I needed it to be there until I walked away from it and knew how much it would hurt if I came back and it was gone.
So I went and got it and took it with me.
Not logical, but I realize logic went out the window a long time ago and I'm finding healing however I need to, as crazy as it may be.
Mother's Day is hard. For a lot of people. It's really special but it can also be really hard. And I'm trying to let the really special be louder than the really hard but sometimes just hurts worse than others.
The past few days have hurt.
I know my limitations and realize I probably won't be taking a solo trip to the south of France like I've thought about but I also never expected I'd be alone, after knowing such love and such loss, and still be able to smile.
Sometimes you surprise yourself.
I sat on a bench, overlooking the water and couldn't stop the tears from coming. This Mother's Day is different from last year, for 1000 different reasons and it hurts.
As the alligator tears rolled from my face to my dress, I went to get my keys and hit the foot of the bear that has come to mean so much to me, jingle bells start playing again so I did what I needed to do.
Sat there and cried.
Until a lady walking her dog came up behind me, laid her hands on my shoulders and wished me a Happy Mother's Day.
She was walking away by the time I turned around but the weight of her hand on my shoulder lifted a load I had been carrying.
I'm not alone. Not today, not tomorrow.
I carry two very special boys with me, everywhere I go.
Thursday, April 16, 2015
I consider my a grown up. I mean, I'm 36, I have a job, pay my bills, have handled some crazy stuff.
Then I go on a date.
And the guy has a scar on his lip. Kind of a big scar. I'm imagining a knife fight, a motorcycle wreck, something crazy, right? So I guess he caught me staring at it, rude, I know, and he touches it and tells me what happened.
He got bit. By a horse. On his lip. I mean, tragic and scary. But all I could do was picture this and I'm pinching myself not to laugh at the thought of a 2000 lb horse biting this man's lip and I realize I'm not completely mature.
Today I had to make a very grown up decision. And I didn't even realize I was making it until I got in my car to go to my parents and found myself on a road leading me to a place I haven't been ready to go to.
I found a peace. I knew I was ready. And I was proud of myself for doing it. Until I couldn't. So I do what every grown, adult person does, and called my mom, crying, asking her to tell me I was making the right decision.
She didn't tell me I was. She didn't tell me what to do. She listened and she prayed and she talked me thru one of the hardest things I've ever had to do. And I did it. And then went to my parent's house and cried on my dad for a little while.
Not very grown.
But hugely important.
I've never doubted whether I could go to my parents for anything. Sometimes I've gone to them for probably too much but I've never questioned whether I could or not.
So I'm 36 years old, sitting on my parent's couch, first time out of the house in nearly 2 weeks, opening an Easter basket, talking to my parents about very real, very hard, very honest things and I realized I'm not ashamed of running to my mom and dad. Never have been, never will be.
Life has handed me a lot of really hard times but the one thing that had always been a constant, a sure thing, a never have a doubt about, is that whether I'm 36 or 63, I will never stop wanting, needing or appreciating the 2 most beautiful, real, most selfless people I've ever known.
My parents did a lot right and here I am, one of them. They have given me the tools to get thru things they've never faced, they've given me a soft place to land when I needed it, tough love when I didn't want it and a never ending supply of unconditional love.
I love deep, I forgive always and I trust without ceasing and I'm who I am because 2 incredible souls believed in me!
I have a lot of voices in my head fighting for attention. Keep the comments to yourself. But of all the voices that speak doubt, fear, rejection and confusion, the voices of my parents speak the loudest. And the moments I question whether I can keep going with the pain, the hurt, the confusion and fear that life brings, I know I can.
Their voices speak loudest and I've never doubted what I hear.
I'm blessed. For so many reasons but for most of all them!
If you have parents, grandparents, the person that's your inner voice, maybe call them, love them, tell them.
They deserve to know.
Mom, Dad, how much do I love you? More than you could possibly ever know!
Friday, March 27, 2015
My March article for Still Standing Magazine.
"In two years I've grown. I've healed. I've spread my stupid wings and have seen where they can take me. To some beautiful place where all that is missing is everything I wanted with me. But 2 years later, I'm Standing. Still."
"In two years I've grown. I've healed. I've spread my stupid wings and have seen where they can take me. To some beautiful place where all that is missing is everything I wanted with me. But 2 years later, I'm Standing. Still."
Wednesday, March 18, 2015
Am I happy?
More so than I've been in too long.
And it feels fab!
I've taken a break from social media and it's made me look at life differently. After living my life in such a public way, taking time to live privately has been cathartic.
I've got my divorce papers. I was ready for them. I was strong and ready and anxious to sign them.
Then I opened them and had a complete and total good ole fashioned go to pieces.
Seeing the name of the person you married in that context of ending something that was so much of who I was was harder than I wanted it to be.
But...it's ending something that no longer is. I'm divorcing someone that no longer is to me what I fell in love with and someone I no longer am.
That's heavy. It's a very heavy load I've been shouldering, alone, for far too long.
I recently saw some people I haven't seen in awhile and they all showered me with hugs and love and kindness. And the words, spoken from a lovely soul who has the biggest heart of anyone I've ever known said, "I've missed your smile, it's so good to see it again."
I can't even say how incredibly good it feels to truly have it back.
Life isn't easy, things fall on you that are meant to break you and the beauty that comes from walking away with your head high is a powerful thing.
My head's not always high. I'm grieving the ending of something I didn't expect to end. I'm a lover, I'm a forgiver, I'm someone who needs answers and the struggle bus I've been driving is because sometimes there just aren't answers. And that's hard.
What's harder was having so much inside me that was unfullfilled for so long. For chasing a love that died a long time ago. For running after answers that would never come and even if they did could never truly make sense.
There's a peace in making a decision.
And I feel like I've let the weight of the world and so many unfullfilled promises finally slip off my shoulders.
So many decisions have been made for me and the control freak in me fought it at every turn.
It's hard letting go of a dream you had. Even when the dream no longer fit, no longer was a benefit and no longer brought me anything but pain.
I don't have a happiness that lights my smile. Happiness, I know all too well, is fleeting.
What I have found is a joy that cant be denied. I haven't had the luxury of Facebook to tell me job well done. I haven't had Instagram to tell me that I'm going to make it.
What I've had, what I found, is that as much as I miss being part of something, the healing I've found with finding myself has been healing in a way I didn't know I needed.
Dang, that feels good.
With that understanding, I also know I'm meant to be part of something. I'm better when I'm part of a team, when I have someone else to love.
I haven't had that but I found something really special I wasn't looking for.
I found a love, a pride, a peace that can only come from not only believing in but loving yourself.
What I went thru, what I've faced should have damaged me more than it has. But God has placed an impossibly strong belief that His plans are bigger than ANYTHING I can imagine for myself.
I lost a lot. I gained even more. And I'm excited, I'm hopeful and I'm ready to see what the next chapter of this crazy life brings me
Wednesday, March 11, 2015
Today I had to do something that I've been dreading for the year we've been discussing it. I had to meet my soon to be exhusband, that I haven't seen in 8 months, to sign a form destroying the 10 frozen embryos that we have.
I was shaking, I was crying, I was damn near close to hysteria and I was completely shattered. I am one of the lucky parents who got to hold and see both of her babies after they were born. A lot of parents who lose premature don't get that gift. I saw that Tucker looked like me. For so long I'd wondered what holding a baby that was part of me would look like. And I held him. And he was perfect. Then weeks later, I held Fletcher. And he looked just like his Daddy.
The embryos are my last hope of having a baby that has the characteristics of their brothers. It's a hope I've held onto for a long time.
The thought of destroying the hope I had for each one of those embryos broke my heart in a way no one can understand unless you've had to face that impossible decision.
Do I want to be tied to a man who walked out on me because life's hurts were too much? No. Do I want to have babies that are siblings of my boys?
More than anything.
I begged, pleaded and cried with him to let me have them. He was ok donating them to other families so they wouldn't have to go thru the hell we went thru. He was ok knowing he may have children walking this earth that he doesn't know about, but he won't allow me that. I offered to move out of the state, country,
sign away all rights, he won't agree. He's fine with other people having our kids, just not me.
I sat outside the dr's office with that form, head on the steering wheel, my body racked with sobs coming from a place of despair I didn't know I had.
I couldn't turn the form in. Not yet. It's too big of a decision that I have absolutely no peace about.
I reached out to some friends and family and asked them to pray for me. Of course my loving, selfless prayer warriors circled around me and one specifically asked that God would give me a word, a song, something specific that would help me thru this.
I went to Walgreens and had my head down, trying to cover my tear stained face and hide the tears that were falling and I wasn't speaking to the cashier but I heard her talking. Then I realized she was praying. Out loud. She was praying for me. I looked up, tears running down my face with a look of total loss and she said, if you agree then just say "Amen." I looked at this beautiful lady who had no idea the gift she had just shared with me and whispered, "Amen."
I've had some exciting doors open for me over the past week that have given me a hope and peace for motherhood that I haven't had in a long time. Naively I thought that would replace the brokenness of losing the hope of what the embryos held for me.
Life is heavy. Way too heavy sometimes and today I was literally crushed under the weight of decisions that are being made for me that I have no control over.
And I lost it.
And in that brokenness, the kindness of a stranger and her heartfelt prayer that God would hold me, guide me, keep me and love me until I can see the light at the end of the tunnel lifted some of the weight that made me feel like I was drowning.
I don't know what tomorrow holds. I know that sometimes the circumstances we face today are so devastating it's hard to see past. But I also know that in my darkest hours, the moments I've felt completely alone and forgotten, God uses the most unlikely people to speak to my heart.
The prayer of a stranger, spoken out loud in faith and belief gave me the push to keep walking forward.
Monday, February 16, 2015
So, divorce. That's fun. In a kick yourself in the teeth kind of way. I've been trying my best to hold it together, the past week I think I've cried more tears from a place of pain I didn't know I had. It's funny, how tears come from different places.
I have been so close to losing my mind I can't even tell you. And I'm not being facetious, I'm not being self depreciating, when I say I've been close to losing it, I mean it. I've often thought of driving myself to the closest mental ward because they would have to know what to do with a crazy person like me. Better than I know what to do with myself. But I don't even know where those are. Which I guess may be a blessing in disguise and keeping me out of lockdown and a padded room.
Divorce sucks. It's the ending of something that I went into without a contingency plan. I never even considered one because I knew, finally, I'd found the person I was meant to be with forever. Who would protect me, love me unconditionally and be beside me through everything good and bad that life brings. And let me love and take care of him, too.
I didn't expect that to end.
I don't think I could have handled losing my husband with a fully intact heart. That my heart was already completely shattered, I can say, only by God's grace have I not given up.
Laura Story sings a song called "Grace"
that I heard the other day and it spoke so strongly to my torn and beaten spirit.
"And each time I will fall short of your glory, how far will forgiveness abound? But you answer: "My child I love you, and as long as you're seeking my face, you'll walk in the power of my daily sufficient grace."
Dang. If that doesn't answer every question of "how am I still breathing with a brokenness I don't know how to maneuver" than I don't know what does.
Divorce is expensive. It robs you of all kinds of things that go beyond splitting this and that.
What has it cost me?
When you basically have an entire family erased from your life and you are left with only yourself, feelings of insanity are a constant companion.
My Self worth-
When you're told by someone you trusted your heart with that you're nothing, you gave nothing, you did nothing and you ruined everything, it's hard to feel like you have anything to offer anyone. And this is what's been hardest for me. Because I know in my heart who I am, what I have to offer, but if the person you're trying to give everything to doesn't want it, how can you be blamed for not doing enough? My old self would have said "screw you, I'm pretty fantastic and it's your loss for not recognizing what I am." My current self screams, "please love me, please tell me that I was worth something, anything." Sigh.
When you scream and cry to an empty room because you are desperate to matter to someone, when you beg to not be ignored and looked thru as though you aren't important enough for a second glance, your dignity flies out the window.
When you internalize every failure, every hurt, every what might have been, it takes it's toll. When your resistance is already down from a year of trying to keep from drowning, stress can manifest itself in all kinds of ways that make your body hate you.
I used to feel pretty more days than not. Now I feel lucky if I don't scare small children. I'm haggard and I'm wrinkled. The past 2 years have not been kind to this gal.
When you fight for every conversation for a year, when you have to defend every nasty, hurtful, cruel thing that's been said about you, and you continue to go back to the source of pain in hopes of finding a glimpse of what you are losing, pride is the last thing you feel.
Today I had a series of much needed light bulb moments. Thoughts were flooding my mind like a movie I was watching, memories of good times, devastating times, confusing and frustrating times. Tears fell as I thought back on so many things.
Did I fail? Am I worthless? Did I never make him feel like he mattered or do anything nice for him or make him feel special?
No. That's not accurate and I'm speaking truth to this so that I can move past it.
I had a friend, she was self admittedly very overweight. And she joked one time that she was anorexic. The group we were with all kind of stopped what we were doing and looked at her like, "huh?" She said, with a big smile on her face, "I know I'm anorexic because everytime I look in the mirror I see a fat girl looking back at me."
It was a "duh" moment but she was making fun of herself and saying hi to the elephant in the room before anyone else could point it out.
I've often felt like saying "I'm an abused woman because no matter how poorly I've been treated by those who are supposed to love me, I still only see the best and good in them and I keep going back for more verbal assaults. But they must really love me, somewhere deep. Maybe he's just confused because he couldn't possibly believe the horrible things he is telling me about myself right?!"
Abuse is a big word. I don't use it lightly and it kind of punches me in the gut to admit it. Abuse can range from a multitude of things but emotional and mental anguish, cruelness and verbal attacks are very real. Sometimes they don't come from your spouse, sometimes they come from people connected. It's still wrong, it still leaves marks and it's not acceptable.
I'm guilty of losing my temper, obviously. I've thrown things, I've hit things, I've screamed and I've cried. Desperation brings out the ugly. Dignity and pride gone, remember? I'm certainly not proud of that.
I failed at a lot of things.
But my marriage didn't fail because I wasn't good enough. I didn't lose an entire family because I didn't make anyone feel special or do anything good for them or I didn't grieve fast enough.
It failed when it became more work than being easy and the scales were tipped and I didn't measure up. The realness of me and our situation and the work it would take to get us back to healthy wasn't as appealing as erasing me completely from their life. When things got hard, he left. Me sobbing on the floor. Over and over. He took the kids, he left and he hasn't looked back.
It's made me feel like I was losing my mind. For 5 years they had consumed every part of my life, every memory I have. So when every. single. thing. I was used to being involved in was taken from me, of course I was lost. Of course I was emotional. I didn't have my husband I loved more than anything, my life partner to talk thru the daily struggles with, laugh with, love with, I didn't have baseball games, football practice, dance competition, school projects, homework, vacations, never ending laundry, a dog that was in the middle of everything to keep me busy enough to forget what left me.
I only had me. And after so long of having total chaos that being married, with 3 kids and a dog brings, the silence was absolutely deafening.
I've been beaten down. I've kept going back for more, shame on me. And every single time I've lost more of who I am and what makes me me. Because I gave someone else the power to control my feelings, my emotions and turned my belief from knowing who I was to feeling that I wasn't good enough.
I've been scared. So fearful of living a life without them that it's made me blind to the fact that, for a long time I haven't had them and I'm still surviving. And the only thing the memories and thoughts and attempts at making sure I was remembered and important and revelant in the lives that mattered so much to me, didn't change that I wasn't as important to them as I thought.
But that's not a failure on my part. I gave absolutely everything I had and left my heart on the table.
I realized tonight that I tried everything I could to make it work and I wouldn't be able to close this chapter of my life, as painful as it is, if I didn't try everything I could. But the only way it ever got ok was when I made myself smaller. I stopped talking about God because it made him uncomfortable, I stopped laughing so much because he couldn't understand how I could be joyful when life was sucking so bad. I had to accept unacceptable behavior from others because that's just how they were.
No. That's not ok. You don't perpetuate bad behavior, you grow up and make better choices.
I know this, more certain than anything else, I outgrew him. And a friend threw me a lifeline today that she didn't even realize she was throwing. She told me "Don't let anyone dim your sparkle."
I've spent too long fighting the voices in my head that remind me that I failed, that I grieved too long, that I'm an attention whore, that I'm selfish. And me going back to the source of my pain that adds new verbiage each time is no longer acceptable. When you know better, it's time to do better.
The chapter is closed. It's over. And as painful as that is, it can't hurt anymore than being attached to someone who told me and made me believe that I wasn't worth it.
God gave me a huge gift today in the way of removing the rose colored glasses that inflated all the memories to better than they were for a long time to how life is right now.
I'll never regret loving him and giving him my heart. Because when it was real and true, it was the most beautiful thing I've ever been part of. I'd never felt more beautiful, more special and more loved.
He decided I wasn't good enough. That's on him. I'm still me and I'm still full of so much that I want to give someone who is capable of loving me back.
When I'm ready, there will be someone else who will love this crazy, blonde, haggard mess.
What does divorce cost? A lot. Ask anyone who has been thru it.
But what have I gained? A lot. Ask anyone who knows me. I'm constantly seeking for truth, for the strength to be better tomorrow than I was today and I've never let anything make me doubt that God has a plan.
Divorce- $1500 that I made him pay for
Botox to help the haggardness -$400
Boxes of wine- $50
The peace that comes with knowing that you are closing the door on a part of you that no longer brought anything positive-
I'm going to take the advice of a very wise and loving aunt and I'm going to be selfish for a moment and take care of me. I'm going to love me and cut myself some slack for not losing my mind or my smile. Most days.
Tuesday, February 10, 2015
What am I fighting for?
Been asking myself that a lot lately.
So why do I keep fighting? Besides the obvious I guess of having no real other choice? I've always had a strong determination to survive, this is testing the limits. But I've never really seen an alternative to not surviving because I'm not sure as an adult what other choice you have than to figure life out and make it work.
Doesn't mean it's done with grace. Doesn't mean it's done with a smile on my face. More times than not lately I have tears rolling down my face. I'm not sad all the time but I am so completely raw and the emotions are overflowing.
What am I fighting so hard for?
It's not to prove anything to anyone else anymore. It's not for validation from people I so desperately wanted to see and acknowledge a strength in me they always questioned.
I wasn't sure what my fight was for.
Then I heard a song that made me realize it.
I'm fighting so hard because I'm a mother to two babies who never stopped fighting. And I have to believe they got that from their mama.
You hear of parents learning more from their kids than they teach them. I think it's pretty incredible how much 2 little boys I only held for a moment continue to teach me.
I don't consciencly think of them everyday anymore and I know there has to be se healing in that but it's also hard to let that go. When I do think of them, I think of them as they are now. And I don't know if people in heaven can see the ones left behind but I have to believe their spirits are around because their hearts are with me everyday.
The fight has been hard lately. Really freakin hard. I have wanted to give up, throw in the towel and call it a day like a million times but I can't.
Because I have a lot of life to live. Here and now. I'm slowly putting the pieces of my brokenness together and the light shines thru the cracks in different ways and seems to touch people where they need it. And I don't know that until I share my pain and struggle and hear from them that they understand because they are facing it too. It may be the light of faith shining that I believe God hasn't forgotten me. It may be the light that I can live a good life thru grief that changes and the pain that lessens as each day I wake up without Tucker and Fletcher. It may be the light of a very lonely woman going thru a divorce from a man she loves and misses everyday. It could be the light shining thru the cracks of worry, anxiety, despair. Or maybe it's the light of hope and faith and belief.
My life is transparent, I have a ton of cracks and what is inside me shines out. Sometimes bright, sometimes dim but the light of love and hope has never been burnt out.
Why do I fight so hard? Because I want to be the best of me I can be. For the people around me but most importantly for my babies who I know are beside me.
I heard this song and I've listened on repeat. Heaven is far away when what you want is waiting but my life is here and I'll continue to fight the good fight here so that when my time on earth is over, I will spend forever with my babies.
I will run this race
And I will do it all for love
Your love compels me forward
You love controls my heart
And I just can't
I cannot get away
So I will fight
This good fight of faith
And I will do it all for love
You are my great reward
You're so worth fighting for
And I can't wait to see your face".
I can't wait to see my babies. I see them in my dreams, I feel their arms around my neck, I can even hear their voices. Which is the strength of a mothers loving desire as I never even heard them cry. It's real though. It's so real.
But when I open my eyes they disappear.
I'll run this race, I'll fight the good fight of faith and I will do it all for the love of my
boys. When we'll never be seperated again.
Their mom isn't a quitter. I can't wait to see their faces when I will know without a doubt that my boys will be proud of their mama and I can run with them and never again have to be apart.
Wednesday, February 4, 2015
Life needs to freaking let up. Not joking, not being facetious, not being woe is me. It just seriously needs the let up for 5 seconds so I can catch my breath.
If I have any male readers, feel free to stop reading.
So you know how every mother always says that the pain of child birth is forgotten the moment your baby is laid in your arms?
I believe that's true.
Except for when it's not.
I'll never forget child birth. With both boys, I remember every. single. pain. I remember every detail, I remember it all like it was yesterday.
Mainly because I go thru the pain all the time. I've always had horrible periods, always. The dr's have told me since I was very young that once I went thru child birth, the pain would get better.
And it did. For a year and a half my body was normal. I mean, except for the breast milk I still had up until about 2 months ago. But was mostly normal til one day it had decided I'd had enough of a reprieve and the flood gates of hell opened up once again.
There are 3 types of people when it comes to period hell. Men who haven't a clue.
Woman who have some cramps here and there, some moments of wanting to hurt someone during PMS and then the group of woman whose lives are put on hold during the worst times of their lives.
Every. Single. Month.
Except I'm not normal so for the better part of the last 120 days, I've been living this hell. Some days it's ok. Some days I want to kill people. Other days I eat my face off. Some times I wake up 11 lbs heavier than when I went to bed because of fluid retention. Hand to heaven truth. Other days my face looks like a proactive commercial and then the really amazing days I am curled in a fetal position with a heating pad cursing the fertility gods that cause this pain that remind me I'm still not pregnant and they really want me to realize that.
That's been me the past week. My dr's have told me I'm one of the lucky few that goes thru true labor pains more often than most during their cycles. It sucks on a normal day.
Other times it's devastating.
To be laid up, in excruciating pain, reliving the worst two times of your life is simply devastating. Because it's not just the physical that is too much to handle. It's the memories that play like a movie in my mind of when I truly was in labor. And how that ended.
My dr has me on different meds trying to make my life less hellish. And that backfired and for 3 months I had a constant period. Life has been fun around me let me tell you. Then I get a 3 week reprieve and out of nowhere a few days ago I'm knocked on my back.
Literally. On my back with a heating pad and 4 heavy pillows on top. I have heating pad burns. How do you even explain that if I had to go to the ER or something?
Please, someone, tell me it's not that bad. I promise I will slice your tongue out.
Sometimes all the stars line up in life and just make you want to check yourself into an all expense paid trip by insurance and copay into the closest mental ward you can find so you can get a moments peace.
I'm transparent, remember?
So, what have we learned today in my blog?
I'm hormonal. I'm still half past crazy and I'm a mess.
But I'm trying my best to not let the crazy take over every part of my life. I like to spread it out evenly amongst all areas.
You know, like talking to your ex about the divorce papers that are "in the mail."
Hot mess, party of 14 personalities checking in.
If it's not one thing it's 15437 others but so far my rack record of getting thru the crap is 100% even if the ways I get thru it are pints of ice cream, 3 heating pads and a box of Kleenex with a whole lot of caring people who allow me the grace to be myself.
Right now I feel like a big fat lump of charcoal and that the light at the end of the tunnel is a speeding train headed right for me.
But I know it's not accurate. Tomorrow I'll wake up with a better attitude than I have today and most likely, with an empty pint of ice cream laying beside me and a heating pad burn to remind me I made it another day!
Thursday, January 22, 2015
So, I feel mostly "moved on." Which is good considering I'm trying to date. I just don't how rational is it to think you can move on from a husband and family that's no longer in your life.
But I'm giving it the ole college try.
In a rare moment of clarity I realized that I'll never truly move on from what I leave behind. There's too much there. I spent a long time deleting pictures off social media (a lot of pics, like over 500) of my pre-life before being told "SIJCD". (Sorry I Just Can't Deal).
I don't think I can "move on" in the way I was expecting.
I hate that, by the way. Wait til some well meaning person tells you it's time to move on when you're in the midst of trying your best to freaking move on and see if you don't wanna punch them.
It's making it hard for me. Because I still desire to know what going on with the kids, what they are are up, how they are doing. There are no visitation rights for ex-stepparents even thought you spent 4+ years of your life loving your kids. And if I'm being honest and transparent as I try to be, it's hard to move past someone who was your best friend. Who knew the ins and outs of you. The things that annoyed you and the things that made you most happy. It's not normal to have to move away from your best friend.
It's especially glaringly obvious when you go on date after date of people that make it really annoying to be back in the dating world.
But what had happened was, the person calling the shots decided that we couldn't make it because life is supposed to be rainbows and fairy tails and unicorns shooting out your butt every day. And when that doesn't happen*, it negates your wedding vows and you can wave the white flag.
* I'm not an attorney and I'm still waiting for an attorney to verify those are solid grounds for divorce in the State of FL, so this whole thing needs to be taken with a grain of salt because, truthfully, I'm leaning on my own interpretation.*
To his defense, since I'm waxing legal here, we went thru some major crap. So I can't be mad that the unicorns and rainbows being replaced with all kinds of tragedy were hard to overcome.
Still. It's annoying that what was joined together, was torn apart. SIJCD happens and you redirect your sails. Blah blah.
So I won't move past. But I've understood, in a whole new understanding, that I outgrew where I was. Unfortunately that means I leave behind the ones who weren't ready or able or wanting to grow. And I have I be ok with that.
And I am.
So I date.
Keep reaching and you find something, right?
Keep reaching and you get cut.
My dating life debacles arent lonely as I have many close friends going thru this hell with me. It's more fun when you can commiserate over a glass (case) of wine of the dating woes we face.
I have dated a lot of guys. A lot. I have Cowboy, I have Roloff, I have Hitman, I have Loves His Mama a Lik Too Much For Comfort, I have Bartender, I have Irish, I have Severe Accent, and Man Boobs.
What I have is a mess of way too many degenerates that should be exciled from the dating pool.
I've been on some lovely dates with some lovely men. They are true gentlemen and deserve the best, just not the best of me apparently as they fell flat and short.
I wasn't their cup of tea, they weren't my bottle of champagne. It happens.
I can talk about everything. To a wall. How it's possible to not have anything in common is beside me. But that's the joys (sucky side) of dating.
Moving on, tongue in cheek, of course.
Was talking to a girlfriend, watching Biggest Loser and this grossly obese man became this hot specimen of a man and we both sat there in silence. Didn't know what she was doing til she texts a mutual friend of her ex and asked this "he's still fat, right?? PLEASE TELL ME HES STILL FAT."
He's still fat
There was a moment of Thanksgiving.
Another was upset that a guy she was interested in wasn't being honest with her. She came to the understanding that "when someone shows you who they are, believe them."
My 2 cents, yes, believe them. Then check Facebook to see how many kids, wives, addictions, they are hiding. People love being bold on fb.
I hate dating. Hate. Loathe. Is there a bigger word than loathe? I don't want to go thru the minutia and crap and platitudes that go along with it.
I'm 36 and back at it. Shouldn't there be a fast pass lane for those who've already been there, done that and have the 37 last names to prove it?
I just want real.
I don't need a fairytale, I hate Disney. Just give me special.
Honestly, I want a husband and a billion screaming kids running around driving us crazy.
"Here's my story......wanna chat?"
That happened once before and became quite the beautiful love story.
Until it didn't.
We had a nice run. Being the bigger person here.
I've married for love. That kicked me in the teeth and I lost all kinda confidence, hope, joy, dreams, wha wha whaaaaaaaa.
I'm marrying for money this time.
So I'm back in the dating pool of fun. Haha, spit out my wine on that lie.
I'm back at the dating game.
For what? If I wanted easy, I'd have gotten it by now. If I wanted fake, coulda had it too. If I could get past the sparkling light glaring off Man Boob's too tight polo that was blinding me to everything else but that unfortunate sight, I could have had that. If I wanted a sugar daddy to buy me a rose gold Rolex, dang, the offer was presented.
But this heart of mine, beaten, stomped on, broken and healed is wanting something special.
And I'm not settling.
I know what I bring to the table. A whole lotta crazy. I'm self aware, that should account for something. And if someone gets past the first 15 chapters of "Uh, what? No way.." that's been my life, I feel pretty confident that there's a man who will be the person I love, respect, adore and grow old will. We will celebrate our milestone marriages. Maybe not married 50 years together but 50 years combined marriages out of the 2 of us and all our past baggage should at least give some fodder for laughter at what's to come.
That's me looking at the bright side of this crap.
Not bitter, not mad, just hopeful and believing. If I've spent so many years being placed #2, #3, #4 behind what he loves most, I can't even begin to image what will happen when I find a guy who makes me first, only second to his relationship with Christ.
So I'll go out with the Munsons, The Broken, the Bitter, the Obnoxious, the Runners in search of the beautiful.
Until then, I'll date. (Gag, puke, barf) and hold steady til I find the man who will help me shoulder the load of my crap and will let me help lessen the load of his.
Onward and upwards my single friends! I'm raising my glass of wine to you!
Friday, January 16, 2015
Life ever tried to get you to just stop? Like throw in the towel, I'm down, out, I quit and give up? Stop the madness already, I'm over. It. Someone likened one of my shenanigan tales to Taylor Swift and it made me want to wave the white flag in defeat.
Seriously, if your life mimicks Taylor Swift, it may be time to call it a day.
I couldn't figure out why the past few days Satan has been absolutely relentless in trying to knock my spirit just down and out. Last day I worked before I had two days off, felt good. Had big plans for my days off. Hair, nails, massage. Barely made it in the door before I puked, out of nowhere and 2 days in the bed. But I was all, whoa is me, they aren't 2 days wasted when your life sucks anyways.
I know, I'm a ball of positive and God's never ending grace and light.
So yesterday I get out of bed, looking like a tragic train wreck would and took myself to a hair salon down the street. The conversation goes a little like this.
"Make me pretty." "What do you want done?" "I don't care, make me pretty, I'm tragic so anything would be a bonus."' She looked a little terrified and showed me some color swatches of hair and I told her, perhaps in a growl, "I. Don't. Care."
For 2 hours I didn't talk. Didn't make eye contact with anyone and the poor girl doing my hair was more than scared as she saw a woman on the edge.
She takes the towel off my head, after my
Color session and asks how I want her to style my hair. Told her "I don't care what you do to me just make me prettier than when I walked in."
As I had crawled out of bed before the appointment, I'm quite certain a blind person could have helped me.
She blows and straightens and turns me around and what do you know, I looked pretty.
I tipped her an embarrassingly high amount as I was such a joy to work with, I felt she more than earned it.
So why the sour mood? Only because Satan has been ALL OVER ME LATELY! Couldn't figure out why until I figured out why.
My aunt challenged me to speak, out loud, for a week, the promises I believed God has for me. The hopes and dreams and all I want, I've been vocalizing it. Every day. Out loud.
Satan doesn't really like that.
As evidenced in the total spiritual attack that has surrounded me the past week. Want to know if God has some big plans for your life? Speak them out loud. Just be prepared for a full out battle of the dark one trying to suck you into the negative lies he loves to spew.
So I did what any mature adult does,called my mom, bawling my eyes out. "I hate my life, this speaking blessings isn't worth it because Satan is attacking me."
Whaa whaa whaa.
My mom, God bless her. She's never given up on trying to pull me out of the crazy.
I was watching "Biggest Loser" and one of the contestants freaked out. Bob Harper says to him, (I have a Bob Harper in my life and she goes by Mom) says to him, " you're going to a crazy place." Crazy guy says, "I do that sometimes,". Bob, being the trained millionaire professional he is says this bit of wisdom. "Don't, it doesn't get you anywhere."
Thanks, Captain Obvious.
If you had someone in your life that meant nothing and was going nowhere, if you knew they were destined to a life of suckiness, would you step in to tell them otherwise if you didn't believe they were going anywhere? No, probably not. Why waste your breath, right? What if they were going somewhere? And them speaking out the truths of everything you weren't and standing on the firm faith of everything they believed they would have in spite of what you were doing to block them, what would you do if you didn't want them to succeed? Would you sit quietly and let them boast about a husband and kids and success and favor they were speaking as thought they already had them? Or would you throw tomatoes and lies and everything else at them to get them to shut up?
The past few days I've dodged the lies and fears and doubts and spoiled fruit that has been thrown at me full force and i didn't handle it with much grace.
I crashed and burned.
So, I prayed. Louder. Now to be fair, I did it in my car and felt like a complete idiot but I spoke loudly the truths and dreams and hopes and beliefs that I know God has placed on my heart.
And I powdered my nose, put on my lipstick and went out and showed the day who was boss.
I don't know why life is so hard sometimes. I don't get why Satan has decided I'm a great target practice. But I can tell you this.
I'm not giving up. I'm not giving in and I'm not quitting.
I KNOW the plans God has for ME. That's big! They aren't to harm, to cause tears and a tantrum. They are for something SO. MUCH. BIGGER.
If Satan wants me to quit now, I can't even begin to imagine what waits for me on the other side of this trial. And I can say that honestly. Not as some pie in the sky hope. I fully believe that.
It'll be worth it, it'll be beautiful and it'll be more than this tragic trainwreck of a gal could ever imagine.
Hold steady, God has this. I'm not just saying that. Coming out of the trenches, I believe that! If Satan is attacking you, it's only because he sees the absolute beautiful God has for you and he's terrified.
Satan shaking makes me laugh. God's promises make me smile. I know who wins this battle and for that, I'll keep dodging rotten fruit. Because at the end, I know the plans God has for me are to prosper me and give me a bright future. Bright! Not sucky.
Hold steady. Satan doesn't like that, God really appreciates it. 💙
Friday, January 9, 2015
Yesterday I was having a "what am I doing with my life" moment. Haven't had one of those for awhile, surprising considering how neurotic I am, I know. I want a change, I don't know what exactly, but I was annoyed that I didn't know how to change my life. I sat and thought of a million things I want and completely unsure of the first step to take.
Then my phone rang. And guess what. World turned completely upside down. Effective immediately, complete and total change.
I hate change.
Seriously. I hate change.
I wanted change. Was mad I didn't know where to start to intiate change and bam, change.
Be careful what you wish for and blah blah blah.
So I've spent the past 24 hours thinking about this change, analyzing every angle of this change and going between 100 emotions and feelings about it.
Life changes, you'd think, me of all people, would have understood that by now...
Shocking I'm sure but sometimes I'm not so quick.
Yesterday, unsure of what I'm feeling and just obviously looking for a reason to hate life, I watched the "Fault in Our Stars." Brilliant for someone who is on the edge, constantly, of losing her mind. Sad, romantic movie about young adults who fall in love when they both are dying of cancer.
Yea, I know.
The young heroine of the movie says at one point that this isn't the life she wanted.
I don't want this life I've got either. Funny thing is, doesn't matter. So much you can't control, so much is handed or taken from you without your consent.
I've had more change, more new beginnings, more endings, more goodbyes, more loss than a normal 36 year old should have. Blah blah, story is old by this point, I know. I'm not normal so I'm unsure why I'm surprised by this.
So, I go from bawling my eyes out watching this stupidly sad movie to listening to music that makes me equally emotional on a whole other level.
"When life has cut too deep and left you hurting
The future you had hoped for is now burning
And the dreams you held so tight lost their meaning
And you don't if you'll ever find the healing"