Yes, I’m holding a sign that says “Censored.” Even though I’m no where near censored. I just love irony. Or is it hypocrisy? Definitely both. Makes for a better story.
It’s time to say goodbye to 2015 even though I’ll be putting 2015 on my handwritten checks for the next few weeks. Oh, how I hate that. Why is it that we are such automatic creatures? Creatures of habit. More importantly, is it really possible to break habits? Good habits? Bad habits? Or worse…obsessions? Letting go of the one person we loved so deeply? Not only letting go of them but the hope of a future. Even if they aren’t good for you, you know you have to let them go. For you. For them. For your clarity. For your sanity. Read More
Thought it was time to do one of those lists. Seems like everyone has a list…
So here goes my list…
1. Do be honest. If you’re married, fess up. If you claim you’re married but separated, actually be separated. You will ALWAYS get caught. Why not start out being honest. It will save a ton of pain in the end.
2. Do be emotionally available. Stop blaming her for everything. Get over her. Move on.
3. Do be ready. I’ve nursed far too many men who aren’t ready. It’s not my job to put your books in your backpack and make your lunch. That’s my job as a mother. Not a girlfriend.
4. Do understand that the opposite of love is indifference. NOT hate. Learn the difference. Feel the difference.
5. Do send flowers. But not on the world’s clock. Do it on your own clock. A random day with no meaning other than to say hello. Fuck Valentine’s Day. Read More
Huh? Is that even possible? Finding clarity while you’re knocked out? Really? So, I’m a bit quirky. I really do pull my blog titles out of my own personal abyss. And it’s a deep one! And out of the deep comes some really odd things.
Someone or something or some higher power was watching over me yesterday. Choices we make everyday can affect us. The big ones. The little ones. The impulsive ones. The subconscious ones. So many choices we make each day. Whether we make them consciously or simply on autopilot. We make them. With each choice are consequences. All of our actions have a consequence. Whether intended or not.
Waking up in the middle of the night with horrific stomach cramps is painful. And it sucks. You are powerless as some 24 hour virus has taken control of you. Your body. Your mind. So you sit there on the porcelain god waiting for this mass exodus of EVERYTHING out of your body. So, I’m weak. I’m dehydrated. I’m exhausted. I can’t sleep as I double over in this writhing pain. Think contractions. Remember those? The closer to the birth, the closer the contractions are. I am no where near giving birth but I am having contractions. And they hurt!
Of the bottle.
It’s 4am. I’m wide awake. Waiting for the Aleve to kick in. Just another day. Another downed bottle of wine. Another pack of cigarettes smoked. WTF am I doing? Where am I going with all this?
I know much of this blog is about surviving abuse and ultimately thriving because of it. But some days, I’m not thriving at all. I’m barely surviving. If it was all about just surviving sexual abuse, then I could take on that challenge. But it’s more. So much more. I’m a fighter but I’m beat down constantly. Abandonment of a father and constant rejection by him. And a mother who had zero feelings for my pain and told me to forgive her husband for sexually abusing me. Simply Jesus forgave him and so had she. Fine. Forgive him all you want but you could have kicked his ass to the curb. Making me feel like I was loved. Never mind, you may be alone. Clearly, your needs of a man to take you to dinner and make you feel important were far more important than my needs of a mother to protect me when I needed it most. A fucking trifecta of “Fuck you, Wanda.” The selfish needs of your parents are far more important than yours. Let this be your foundation for your life. “You are not important. Our needs come before yours. Period.”
I started this blog 3 days ago after I hit bottom. Again. How many times am I going to hit bottom? Luckily, I have a lot of friends. And a really good therapist. And several friends who are really good therapists.
For the past 10 months, I have been chased relentlessly by this widower attorney whom I thought (until two days ago) was probably the sweetest man I have met in the past several years. Always there for me. Giving. Generous. Good as they get. Always complimenting me. Making sure I was taken care of. But I wasn’t interested in anything other than a nice dinner and some fun. My head and heart were elsewhere. Me chasing a dream of a life that simply wasn’t meant to be.
And then. The “L” word. Out of no where. Of course it was during sex. Don’t they always drop that bomb just before climax? So predictable. So, what do I do? At first, I ignore it. Then? Well, then I really start to think about it. Think about the possibilities. Then I obsess about it. And, when I get my brain going, it doesn’t stop. Always a civil war going on in my head. The universe in my mind and my thoughts is so expansive. It can be its own little black hole. Impossible to escape a black hole, right? Same with my mind and my thoughts.