I’ll Take A Breath, I’ll Take Her By My Side We Stand In Awe, We’ve Created Life

With little E’s birthday yesterday and Z’s coming up next week, it’s really been hitting a chord I didn’t even know I had. I want another baby. My kids are growing up and soon I’ll have a 4 & 7-year-old in my house and I won’t even be able to pretend I have a toddler anymore. I’ll officially have two children. Kids who are growing up too fast for me and I don’t like it. I heard something years ago, after I left E, that bothered me. I can’t remember where I heard it, but I think it was some fairly reputable therapist, regarding step-parents. They said (paraphrased) that if a new partner enters a child’s life in a parenting role by the age of 6, then it’s easier for that kids to adjust to them as a parent, and accept them. But any later than that, and basically the parenting, in particular the discipline should be done mainly by the birth parent only.

That resonated with me, and has stayed in the back of my mind all these years. I wanted SOOO badly for little E to have a solid connection with a male role model in his life. He has nothing with E. Nothing. And just the thought that by now the opportunity for a meaningful bond to form between him and any potential ‘dad’ is heartbreaking. I know, I know, that thing I heard was just one mans opinion and there are plenty of scenarios that prove otherwise, but the thought still lingers.

I never wanted little E and Z to be fatherless. It was obviously never my plan. But life happens. Shit happens. And now I’m just so disappointed with the path my life is on in this regards. I feel like a failure to my kids in that I haven’t been able to provide them with the home environment that I always envisioned. The “perfect” family.  Or at least a family that looked half decent to outsiders looking in, since no-ones perfect.

You know, the typical mom, dad, son and daughter…. But now it’s just the three of us. With little E apparently at an age where he will have trouble connecting with a new father figure.

And yet I still want another baby. But by the looks of things, it could be years before that happens if it ever does, and do I really want that kind of age gap between my kids? Plus will I be able to carry another baby to term by then?

Maybe I’m being selfish, since I want the experience of being pregnant with a man who supports me during the pregnancy and just to see how it would be like to have him love the baby from the start. But is that fair to little E and Z, who have never experienced anything even remotely similar?

I’m from a blended family, with my little sister N being born after my mom got re-married, and R and I could 100% tell the difference in the way my step dad treated her in comparison to us, which is something I never want little E and Z to feel.

So now, I have this desire for a baby. To experience the joy I see couples have when they do it together. Something I’ve never had. I know I was married, but I’ve been single parenting it since day 1. E never once woke up at night to change a diaper or do a late night feed, or even to bring the baby to me so I could nurse them. He wasn’t there to help teach either one of them to walk or talk. He’s never driven the kids to school or daycare. He’s hardly ever attended a school function or play. He’s been pretty absent since the get go.

So, maybe I’m being selfish, but these last few months I’ve been really thinking about another child, and the feasibility of it all. I want it so badly I’m tearing up right now, but I know I can’t just go randomly and get pregnant “just because” I want it.

I won’t ever put another child through what little E and Z have gone through. A childhood without a father.

So until I find a man who’s in it for the long-LONG term, I’ll just have to shelf my desires and focus on the kids I already have.


-Creed/Arms Wide Open-

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A Lady In The Street But A Freak In The Bed

I just wanna cry.

At myself. At my continuous dumb decisions. At the world. At men. At life right now.

I'm literally overwhelmed. And crying as I type, yet I can't pinpoint the exact reason why because so many fucked up things continue to occur.

I thought I was done with K after that letter I sent. But then last night his ex girlfriend texts me asking if I've heard from him. After a few texts back and forth, I learn that no one has heard from K. Not his brother, not his ex, even his best friend last heard from him the week I did. So now, I'm feeling like a bitch.

I assumed he had made a choice not to call/write me… but what if something has happened to him???? Like honest to goodness what if some of the guys he was telling me about who had it out for him jumped him and he ended up unconscious or worse?
And here I've been only thinking about myself. The Ex was tryna say that if he could've called he would've and that K is the most loyal person she knows… and I know those things. But I'm very insecure, and have obvious trust issues. Plus just based on how we left everything… 'no strings attached' and how he said he wasn't going to call during our last phone call, I was lead to believe he had moved on.

But now, hearing that he hasn't called anyone! I'm actually concerned about him.
So of course I tried calling the prison where I was told (again) that they don't give out information on inmates. I explained that no one has heard from him in a few weeks, how are we to know if he's ok? Like do they contact someone if he gets injured? And the guy on the phone said he couldn't give out that information.

So I'm literally no better than I was before.

I spent an entire two days trying to 'move on' even though I thought about K a considerable amount of time. I felt like it was do able. I was chatting with Army Guy (one of the guys who DM's me after my selfie last week/week before) and it helped to focus my attention elsewhere.
Army Guy was very straight forward and seemed to have his shit together. He also wanted to take me out on a date date. Grand promises of steak and lobster dinners. Well to be fair he didn't promise but he seemed to legitimately want to take me out.

He been out of town fighting the fires in BC for a few days and just got back recently and really wanted to see me. Turns out he lives like 2 blocks from my work and he used to joke about just showing up with coffee for me one day. I 100% told him that would just be awkward.
Try and envision meeting someone you're potentially going to date, at work for the first time. The uncomfortable hellos in front of coworkers and then what do you introduce them as. Not to mention the whole explaining it all to your coworkers after. No thanks. Not for me.
So, to circumvent that scenario, when he texted me today as I was wrapping up at work, saying he got off early, we made plans to meet quickly at his place before he headed to the gym. Not before promising me he'd 'behave' of course. 😐.
So I drove the 2 minutes to Army Guys place and he came down to meet me. Once in his place I got comfortable on the couch and he got me some ice for my ankle, which I twisted pretty badly 2 nights ago. Then we chatted for maybe 5 minutes while he kept getting up and pacing around, all the while trying to hide his boner 😜.

Then he finally stopped pacing and bent over me and kissed me. Well. I don't mean like a well well well. I mean he kissed me well as in good.
As for me? I would've been fine with a good ol fashion make out session, but men for some reason always want more.

So, maybe there was a little more, but obviously not enough. Army Guy had to meet his gym buddy and I basically just wanted my date, so although there was more… there wasn't MORE. So he asked if I could come back TONIGHT. Yeeeeaaaaah no.

I left with mixed feelings.

I love being kissed and touched and all that good stuff. It's definitely my love language. So in that sense, I enjoyed my afternoon. But part of me wanted to cry on the drive home. And well, I did a little.
I felt like I had let part of myself down.
I want to be treated like a lady? So I should start acting like more of one.
Army Guy texted me less than 5 minutes after we both drove off and I was completely honest in my response.

So. There it is.

Why can I just be part of an old married couple who plans their sex nights already?
Why can't I just bypass all this drama. K, Army Guy, and then there's J who I haven't even had time to mention yet, but has been trying to get with me for months and for some reason I've made plans like 3 times with him and always end up cancelling last minute.

Maybe my fears of being pregnant are true? That would help explain all the emotions I've got going on.

-Usher/Yeah-

Through It All We Will Remain In This Life We All Know Friends May Come They May Go Through The Years I Know I Will Stay

Some of you have asked why I even bother with K anymore like writing to him etc.

K has been there for me in ways I can’t even explain, but I’ll give you a few examples.

One simple time that crosses my mind was once when I got high, and we were on the phone. I got a little paranoid and I remember him just talking me through it. You’d think I was giving birth the way he was coaching me.
‘Breathe, in, out, nice and slow. It’ll be ok. Just in and out, count to five’ Then he needed to go since he worked the next morning but I was still a little paranoid and didn’t want him to get off the phone. So he stayed on the phone with me until we both fell asleep. I woke up around 3 in the morning to the beep beep of my phone ending a call. I still don’t know if he woke up and hung up or we just got disconnected somehow, but when I checked my phone the next morning turns out it was close to a 6 hour call. Most of it just sleeping. And it made me so happy that he acknowledged I needed him, and so he stayed for me.

Another time K was there for me was a little more intense. One Saturday morning I was having issues with my epilepsy and woke up apparently with some memory issues. I guess I had had a dream about K that night and either I called him to tell him, or he called me just to chat and I wanted to tell him about my dream, but I kept repeating myself. He got pretty concerned about me and so he called his mom (who is a nurse or works in the medical field somehow) for advice about what to do.
Him and his mom conference called me and after a few minutes on the phone with me, his mom was like K you need to take her to the hospital.
But I was adamant about not going, since I know from all my experiences there, that there was nothing they would do, and it would just be a waste of my time and end up a waste of time. So I did my best to be polite, since it was his mom, but I basically told his mom I would outright not take her advice. In my most polite and respectful way of course.

So he said goodbye to his mom and stayed on the phone with me some more. I guess I was still acting strange enough for him to get me to give him my sister N’s number.

He knows N lives right down the street from me and that we’re fairly close, and so he called her and explained what was going on so she could come take care of me. N was there in her pjs in less than 10 minutes with her husband D close behind to occupy the kids. She said she was still in bed and almost didn’t answer K’s call because it was a number she didn’t recognize. Then once she did, she was so confused about who this man with this super deep voice was. But she was super impressed about how he handled the situation. I guess he told her everything he heard on the phone and wasn’t sure how to handle it himself since he’d never dealt with seizures before, and wanted to make sure someone with experience was with me in case I seized.
Thinking back, he dealt with it so well. Especially after hearing his reasoning behind his behaviour. And all his actions lead me to believe with really cared for me when I needed it. When I couldn’t care for myself. When I couldn’t give back. It’s this mixed with all the other little things like buying me flowers on my birthday and leaving me singing voicemails on Mother’s Day with made up songs knowing how much I hate the day, but still trying to make it good for me. Or helping me put my treadmill together or little E’s new bunk bed… well he did that mostly himself. Or taking the time to teach little E to tie his shoes or watching kids movies with them. Or sharing simple quite moments with me where we didn’t feel the need to talk, we could just be. Be ourselves because we were totally at peace with ourselves around each other.

These are why I will support K while he needs it. While he can’t do anything for me. Because he has been there for me when I needed it and I had nothing to give in return. That’s what friends do. And I will continue to do so until I see reason to do otherwise.
And yep, double post day because my kids are away!


-John Legend/Stay With You-

Take Me To Church I’ll Worship Like A Dog At The Shrine Of Your Lies

So after K got sent back, I had a little falling out with my mother. I was emotional and needed someone to talk to and you’d think by now I’d have learned that that person should never be my judgemental mom but deep down inside I still want to have a open and good relationship with her. So I try and take steps towards that… steps that include telling her some aspects of my life others may keep to themselves. On one hand it’s a fine line because my mother asks too many personal questions as it is and gets to involved anyways, so I have to make sure she understands that I’m a grown woman and some parts of my life are none of her business, while on the other hand, I do want her advice on certain things, since yes she has a few years on me and experience is always a welcome point of view. But the thing with my mom is, she gets terribly offended if you don’t share every detail with her and if you don’t DO everything how she would’ve done it, or how she advised you too… which therefore leads me to just not share those parts of my life with her in the first place. Kinda like a What she doesn’t know can’t hurt her type thing. 

Don’t get it twisted, she knows I get high like every night and thinks it’s a great and natural way to handle my epilepsy. She knows about my past with men and… well she thinks it’s in the past, because I just don’t feel the need to discuss every sexual partner I’ve had with my mother. She knows about the rape and the issues with E. Like she knows pretty much everything, but that doesn’t make it easier to deal with her. 

So when K was sent back, and I really needed someone to talk to, I will never for the life of me figure out why I felt like calling up my mom instead of any one of my girlfriends who knew about K already. Or one of my coworkers who saw flowers get delivered from him on my birthday. Or my sister N who met him when we walked over to her place one night. Or anyone else on the planet apart from my MOTHER. But no. Somewhere deep inside caused me to call my mom. Because I was missing a guy. 

I can’t remember how the conversation went, because it didn’t go well. I was just looking for someone to tell me it would be ok, and basically my mom was not in a position to do that. She was mad at me because I hadn’t told her about K sooner. I tried explaining that K and I weren’t together/dating whatever, and so there was nothing to say. I don’t feel the need to run every friend past my parents for approval. It’s not like I was keeping secrets. Then she pulled the whole ‘You’re still married’ card out on me. Yes, officially, I am still married. Since my divorce has taken over 3 years, and is still not finalized then, yes I am still married. So your right. I guess I am formally a ‘heathen’ for that. Which lead her to asking why do I even go to church still. So I thought about how I would tell her in the simplest way, without hurting her feelings too much. I don’t really believe in God. That’s not true. Well it is but..  Ah, I believe there’s a being out there. A fantastic divine being that has somehow orchestrated this world. But I don’t believe it’s the god that’s discussed and portrayed in the bible at most churches. So, yes. Until that call with my mom I attended church and it was fine. But mostly it was to instill certain values and morals into my children from a young age that are taught at the church. Like the fruits of the spirit, patience, self control, joy etc. Also, then my kids could see my parents once a week. 

Well let me tell you, that went over like a led balloon, and my mother was like ‘don’t bother coming if that’s why’ I know very Christian of her… but needless to say, the last two Sundays the kids and I have chilled at home because of this and it’s been very nice. Then this morning my Dad texted to see if we were going to church. I said no, so he asked if he could take the kids. Sure why not I figured. Even though I know my mom probably put him up to it, my dad is just trying to stay out of the drama and be neutral. He’s the least likely person I know to start an argument, mainly because that would cut into his TV time and heaven forbid that ever happens! But anyways, he showed up this morning with a coffee for me and picked up the kids and said he would drop them off after lunch. He made no comments about how I should be going to church or anything about K. He just lets grown people live their lives. Something my mom is having issues with. 

My mom thinks I should only date one man who I plan on marrying, and only once my divorce is done. I’m like how will I know I want to marry them until I try dating them? Oh she also thinks that I should have to introduce him to my parents within like the first week of meeting him, but that my kids shouldn’t meet him until we’re practically married. Yes I’m almost 30 but she feels the need to intrude on my sex/relationship life with her ‘advice’. She was so offended by my secret keeping because apparently she thought this whole time I’ve been living on my own, I was… I dunno celibate or something? And I guess her finding out I’d been hanging out with someone for almost a year messed with her. Why it affects her life so much I’ll never get. 

I could understand if she was offended that I didn’t tell her I had a boyfriend, or was officially dating someone, but I wasn’t. I was messing around with K and a bunch of other guys. And I didn’t think she needed to know every time I took my pants off. But it’s just like the last little while before K went back things changed between us… things were said… feeling became… deeper for a lack of a better word, and that’s why I was so emotional about it, and needed someone to talk it out with. 

99% my fault for choosing my mom and disturbing the balance of our relationship. 1% her fault for assuming I would tell her all those personal details that she doesn’t need to know about anyone besides her and my dad. 

Either way, I have an unexpected kid free morning, and I’m liking it!

-Hozier/Take Me To Church-

If Your Not the One for Me Why do I Hate the Idea of Being Free/Why Have We Been Through What We Have Been Through 

Making the best choice for yourself in life is shitty sometimes. Whether it’s as simple as eating healthy food vs. a cheeseburger or cutting out people who you feel aren’t the best for you in order to make room for someone who will help you grow better. Both aren’t fun, but the “friend” option is more painful for much longer.

Which is why I’m hoping with everything in me that it will lead to more growth in the end.

I know most of you are thinking that after the whole body image (more about it here… Flaws On the Table, I Don’t Feel Insecure ) thing I probably drew a hard line with K and that was that. Oh sure I did. In the fucking sand. And then the waves that were my feelings for him came and washed what little resolve I had out the window and I was back where I started. Or worse, I don’t even know. What I do know, is that K took full advantage of my feelings and we continued to fuck, and then some. It’s just that he knows what to say to pull at my heart-strings and get what he wants. Which is basically sex without putting in the work of a relationship.

And I’m so broken and embarrassed by that. Because he’s manipulated me so well, and I hate myself for falling soooo far for him. For a man who was very careful to never say I love you to me, but would hold me in his arms and make me feel like my heart was safe. Yet when I was vulnerable, take my heart and break it. For what feels like the hundredth time. Into a shit ton of tiny pieces.

This man who would draw me in, and tell me secrets, and I would tell mine too… but never had any plans or desires to be with me in the future. Throw out comments like be his woman and his wife, ask if I would move here or there and discuss future things… And then turn around and claim he never led me on. Saying since he never said he loved me, that it makes everything else fine.

Maybe it does. Maybe I’m looking to far into it. Maybe the words I love you are more important than him saying you know how much you mean to me C, or holding me, or kissing me the way he did. I guess in his mind that was the only thing that mattered, the actual words I love you. And I shouldn’t feel so hurt.

But I do.

I hurt.

I’m crying. For everything I’ve lost. Everything I’ve had taken from me. Everything I’ve given away. Not just involving K, but in my life.

And I hate it.

Because I thought I was stronger than this.

This stupid girl who fell in love with a man who was using her.

Again.
-Adele/Water Under The Bridge-

To Be in Love With Someone Who Could Never Love You

Have you ever been in a relationship or just a friendship where you felt like they were your everything and you were just ‘something’ to them… at best? 

Or where you can’t be with them because of dumb or made up reason and you find yourself always having to contain your feelings/emotions for them because you know how you feel for them won’t be reciprocated? 

So you go around day after day, pretending that how your friendship, as it stands, is enough for you when deep inside your screaming for more, but at the same time worried to push for what you want because then you might lose the little that you have. 

It’s infuriating. To love someone who doesn’t love you. 

It’s embarrassing. To want someone so much. 

It’s degrading. To continually be pushed aside. 

It’s humiliating. To feel like I still want more despite all this. 

It’s just fucken annoying. That I have so much more to say, yet can’t say it to the person that matters. For fear of losing it all. 
-Frank Ocean/Bad Religion-

While You Laughin’ We’re Passin’ Passin’ Away 

Stoic. Heartless. Cold blooded.  Emotionless. Indifferent. Uncaring. Reserved. Nonchalant. Apathetic. Matter of fact. Bitch. All names I’ve been called in the past that make complete sense to me now.

I received the call today. My grandma passed away a couple of hours ago. And I really, unfortunately don’t feel much towards the situation. And that in itself didn’t bother me, because I know myself. I knew I would have little to no reaction to her passing. Like I mentioned before, it’s life we’re living, and with that comes death. What bothered me though, was how little E responded to the news.

I explained it as sensitively as I could, while still not mincing the truth. Grandma was very sick, and in a lot of pain, and her body was no longer strong enough to fight anymore so she has now passed away and has died. That was enough to make little E tear up on the spot.

I guess I wasn’t expecting his reaction only because I wasn’t at all bothered by her death, but I’m learning that not everyone is like me. I’ve spent years learning how to control my emotional response to get it to where it is today, I can’t expect the same from a 6 year old. So it was a learning experience for me as a mom. How can I teach little E to deal with his emotions? And quite honestly… put on the spot like that was challenging.

I tried discussing it with him at first but I could just tell that he wasn’t listening, so I asked him if he wanted me to stop talking for a bit and just let him think it through a little, and he nodded yes. But as I let him sit for maybe 2 minutes, when I would look over I would see him tear up every so often and I knew this solution was not the right one, since he wasn’t getting any better.

I offered first off to give him a hug, which he didn’t want. So I asked him what did he want to do? Did he want to play basketball in his room with me? Thinking that could get some of the emotion/energy out. Nope he didn’t want to. Did he want to break something (willing to offer up a plate or something, since they’re all replaceable) Nope. Did he want to colour a picture and rip it up into a million pieces? Nope. Did he want to turn up the music really loud and dance super silly in the living room? Yep, we had a winner.

So the 3 of us walked to the living room where little E turned on the music and then just sat on the couch. Z and I started dancing and while I tried to encourage little E to join us twice, I knew he would only do it when he was ready. After a song or two he got up and grabbed a drawing board out of the toy bin and started just scribbling the whole thing black and wiping it off repeatedly. Then after about 10 minutes, he wrote out “mom can you guess if I’m happy / sad now” and handed me the board asking me to circle one.

I circled sad, and he nodded his head. I told him it’s completely ok to be sad because someone close to you has died. You shouldn’t be embarrassed because your sad. And it’s ok if these feelings last a little while. That’s ok. Just understand that you will not be sad forever. You are still alive. And even though everyone will die one day, you are still alive today. So be sad for now, because that’s ok. Cry for tonight because your great grandma died. But then remember one day it’s time to be happy again. Because you are still alive.

And he was good with that. It told him his feelings were valid. Because feeling pain is just as important as feeling joy. If you don’t feel your lows, your highs aren’t as impressive. So I felt I had an opportunity to teach him a valuable lesson about that tonight. But that conversation of course led way to everything else that the death conversation brings.

He learned about graveyards, funerals, cremation, ashes, Arizona, Phoenix Coyotes, cancer, chemotherapy, radiation, organ donation, organs in general, what the kidney does, who will take care of them if I have to go and take care of my mom when she’s dying…. it was a long and winding conversation (as they all are when a 3&6 year old are asking the questions). Part of which lead me to say that when we die our soul/spirit is no longer in the body, and we are just skin and bone remaining. To which little E said “so God can take grandma’s soul/spirit and put it into a new little baby!” which caught me off guard.

I recently been trying to tell my kids about as many different religions as possible so that when they have gathered as much information as they think is enough, they can make their informed decision about how they live their life regarding spirituality. I don’t want them to be ignorant, but I also don’t want them believing something, just because someone said it was the best for them. It’s a fine line. For myself, I’m not 100% sure what I believe about the afterlife. Mainly because I’ve never been dead before and so I can’t know for sure what happens when you die. I’d like to think at this point in time there’s a heaven because it sounds pretty enjoyable, better than a black nothingness or the hell option. But I don’t think I believe in reincarnation. Therefore, when little E made his comment, I had to check myself to make sure what I said didn’t influence his choices and growth. So I just nodded at him and said yeah maybe, and then maybe you might see a baby and it could be grandmas spirit. Or maybe in a bird or a flower. You might see grandma anywhere, then you don’t have to be sad about not seeing her until you die (something that had bothered him). Little E though through everything we had discussed and seemed to be much better about it all.

As for myself? I’m still surprised it affected him this much, but that’s just me. The cold-hearted bitch.


-Bone Thugs-N-Harmony/Tha Crossroads-

Baby Don’t Cry! I Hope You Got Your Head Up. 

Friday I went back to the naturopath who’s been helping me with my liver. Which I found out is doing better thanks to Dr. K.

Last time I was there, she had recommended a B12 shot that would bypass the digestive system since she’d inject it right in my arm, and I could experience the full benefit of the vitamin. So I figured it sounded worth a try. OMG! About an hour after the shot I felt like I was vibrating. And I was to be honest, my hands were literally shaking. I’d never had so much energy IN MY LIFE. I picked up the kids from daycare and took them straight to the park where we ran around for an hour or so. Then after dinner I took them for a walk near the river valley close to our house. Once the kids were in bed, I went for a jog on the treadmill because I still felt like I couldn’t sit still. Around 9, after I had showered, I got high because I was still vibrating from so much energy and I just wanted my body to relax a little and slow down. It was the craziest feeling ever, and the whole day I just kept wondering if this is how “normal” people feel every day? Like do most people have this much energy all the time and that’s why people feel like going to the gym, or doing things at night after they’re done work. Because I normally just feel like chillin but that day I FELT like doing things, anything. It’s hard to explain, other than I knew I wanted that feeling again, so I was back for more on Friday.

This time around though, Dr. K had suggested doing an IV drip with a whole solution of vitamins. I was game. I figured it could only make me feel like I did before or better because there would be more variety of vitamins.

The problem though? Dr. K is not the best at the whole sticking the needle in my vein part. Not veins in general, just mine. My appointment was at 12:45, and when I got there, someone else had an appointment at around 1 but had arrived a little early. Dr. K asked if I would mind if she went first since she had somewhere to be. Nope, I’m cool, I don’t have to get the kids til after 4. The IV room is similar to a waiting room with reclining chairs and the other patient got her IV in on the second try (not the best but wait for it) then Dr. K leaves her for her 45 minutes to let the bag do its thing.

Now it’s my turn. I have no fear of needles. Go ahead and stick me wherever, it doesn’t bother me. But, I have been told before that my veins are deep and rolling… whatever that means. Well, apparently that meant Dr. K had to attempt 4 unsuccessful times before it closed in on 2:00 and she had another patient coming in. So she asked if I could possibly come back after 3? Sure why not, I honestly had no other concrete plans for the afternoon so I might as well. Plus I wanted to feel that “energy high” again. So I headed to the mall for a bit before I came back to resume by spot as the human pin cushion.

Dr. K tried 2 more times, busting straight through one vein before we gave up. Oh did I mention when I came back at 3 there was another patient in the IV room who had successfully gotten theirs in no problem? 😠

Anyways, we decided to move on from IV. It obviously wasn’t going to work this time around, but Dr. K did have one injection left that she could do for me that day so at least it wasn’t all for naught. It was similar at the B12 I previously had, but it also had a few other things mixed in, (that I can’t remember now) and it would have to go in my rear end.

One of 6 😕

So I know have 6 twoonie size bruises all over my hands/arms and a band-aid on my rear end and to be frank…. I didn’t even get the energy I wanted.

The shot made me feel like junk. Actually to be more specific, it made me super emotional. As you’ve probably already gathered, I’m not a very emotional person. I didn’t cry at my wedding (ok maybe that’s not the best marker for this lol) I didn’t cry when I gave birth, or on little E’s first day of school. I’m just not that emotional. I do cry yes, but it’s more rare than most. But Friday, after that shot? I was all over the map.

My friend was supposed to come over that night and I couldn’t pull myself together enough for a visit so I called and wanted to ask them not to come. But I couldn’t explain myself well at all and it caused issues.

Then I was watching random videos on my phone and I started tearing up. I’m pretty sure the videos were “fail” videos but for some reason I was crying at something that was actually hilarious.

I had zero energy. So the kids had peanut butter and honey sandwiches with carrot sticks for dinner and then played outside until bed.

Saturday was slightly better, I cried only once (maybe twice but you’ll never know) in the morning and managed to control myself for the most part for the rest of the day.

It’s not the fact that I didn’t have the energy I was looking for that bothers me, as much as the fact that I couldn’t control my emotions. Something that I’ve prided myself in, is being stone cold and being able to hold back when necessary. Being able to take feeling out of the situation and use logic to find the best solution. But during the last few days I felt like my mind was clouded in a way by feelings. Obviously they are my own feelings, but they confuse the moment and make the situation more difficult to judge and therefore solve. So it’s been frustrating to say the very least.

I definitely prefer my sane logical self. Maybe just with more energy but not if I have to sacrifice reason.


-2Pac Feat. H.E.A.T/Baby Don’t Cry-

I Remember All the Feelings and the Day They Stopped

Last summer, after I bought my own house (Yeah me!), I fell back into old habits (Boo me). Like they say, old habits die hard. I hadn’t slept with anyone since I had left E almost 2.5 years ago, since I had more important things to focus on.  So I was just really wanting that feeling of someone else in bed with me. I was looking for a companion… kinda. Nah that’s a lie. Lol I just wanted to be fucked really good. You know that really good sex where you forget everything else that’s happening in the world and its just your body feeling so far beyond sensational you can’t move… That’s what I wanted. I wanted mind blowing sex that would make me forget my crappy life. A lot to ask for from a guy I most likely met 5 minutes before, but I was willing to take on that challenge. So of course I started looking in all the wrong places, which lead me to all the wrong guys. Duh.

With most of the guys I’ve slept with since last summer (2016) I’ve held my hard and fast rule of one and done. We had our one night stand and you were half decent, but it wasn’t the scandalous, mind blowing night I was looking for, so I’m moving on. Most.

But one guy wouldn’t take no for an answer. He was looking for friends and connections too, and it had been a while since he’d slept with someone as well. For reasons very different from mine. K (or C.J./F.P./G… seriously who the fuck needs that many names? Figure out who you are and run with it.) had just gotten out of prison. Yea, I know how to pick ’em hey. But for real, I don’t judge anyone on anything. I have my own messed up past, who am I to judge.

Anyways we hooked up for the first time back in August and then somehow it never stopped. He called like a week later and I was honestly surprised to hear from him. He convinced me that for some reason we needed each other at that time. Then the calls continued and I started enjoying the late night chats. Then the meet ups became more and more frequent. We have both been through a shit ton of crap in our respective lives and it’s like we could understand each other without judgement. I thought.

We went out one time together in October. I had gotten tickets from work to an Opera and K agreed to go with me. Ohhhh that night. lol. I put way more effort into it then it was worth. At this time I had considered a relationship with K, but he was adamant about it only being a friends with benefits type thing. Which he told me flat out at the beginning. I was totally cool with that, but I was getting attached. It’d been so long since a guy had treated me with any type of kindness and I completely let unwarranted emotion overrun me. In more recent months, when I think about it, I realize the fruitlessness of K and I ever being anything long-term, but back then, I was still in the mindset of anything was better then nothing.

So at the Opera, I was actually really excited to spend the night with him and to see how it went. K, on the other hand was super nervous. Let’s just say he’s not the Opera type. He’d just spent 4.5 years in prison, and before that it’s not like he lived in the classy suburbs and frequented upper class shit like this. I didn’t either, but I think I was a little more prepared then him. He was so concerned about being the only black person there and felt so uncomfortable that he never even noticed how I had bought a new dress or straightened my hair, or any of the things about me that night.

So, I tried to make him feel at ease, stopping for food for him, even though it was going to make us late, which is a HUGE pet peeve of mine. Giving him a hand job during the performance. Making sure he had a couple drinks to relax, even though it was against his parole (not my problem). Then after the Opera, we went for pizza, and messed around outside the pizza joint before he had to head home. And that was my night. To be honest it was fun, even when he was swearing during the Opera and everyone was looking. 😉

Not fun though? Was when I got pregnant around Christmas. It was super stressful for myself and K too I’m sure. I’m already a single mom of 2 kids and although I’m not a fan of abortion, I also am not prepared for a third right now. Some day, maybe. Not now though. K said he would go with me if I wanted to handle it. He said he would be with me the whole time. Turns out I lost it on my own. When I say on my own, I mean it completely alone. K made me PROVE it to him! I had to send pictures to him of my tampon covered in blood. It was a humiliating time. I had awful cramping and just felt like crap, and K just wanted proof. I had to deal with it lying in bed by myself. It wasn’t good. Shortly after, K decided it would be better if we stopped messing around, and were just friends. Fine, whatever. (Every little bit of attitude intended)

So we were just friends. And somewhere during this time, I made an awful mistake and introduced K to my kids. I will always regret this, because my kids love him, and I know how much it will hurt them when he’s done his parole and heads back home. He’s really good with them, and they have so much fun with him, that it hurts me to think about the pain they will go through when he leaves. They have no role model in their dad, and I’m not saying K is a great role model, but he spends time with them and makes them feel special when he’s around, which is more then their father has ever done. Little E wants to call K constantly, and I have to always make excuses about “K is working or busy” And Z is learning about family and always includes K in her list of family. Plus now recently she’s been making a list of who she wants to invite to her 4th birthday party. Yep you guessed it, K made it on the list. Front and center.  I’ve tried talking to K about cutting off this friendship entirely (Something I’ve tried a couple times) to avoid the kids any deeper pain, but he keeps convincing me it’s better to have it for now then nothing at all or something like that. I dunno…

Either way, sometime in Feb/March, our whole platonic friendship plan was thrown out the window again. He came over to watch a movie… and a drink or two was involved, and then clothes were off. Which led to whole emotional (on my part) conversations, and me feeling ridiculous. Because the reason he wanted to be just friends in the first place was because he didn’t feel like he was in a good place for a relationship now. But felt good enough to get back together with an old girlfriend for a few weeks while we were chill. It just brought back all the old feelings of “I’m not good enough” again.

Like seriously what the fuck is so wrong with me that I’m undateable? Whatever.

The whole reason I started this particular post though, was because last night, K called. He said he can’t read my blog anymore. K is the only one in my life I have told about my blog and who knows me personally that reads it. Because we’ve been through enough together, and on my part I just tell him like it is, and he knows most of the junk in my life anyways… He tells me some of the stuff in his life but I also know he keeps a shit ton of it away from me.

Now, apparently, my life is to crappy for him to read. He once told me he would be there for me no matter what, even when he goes back home next year. But now, he can’t even be supportive over the fucking internet let alone from back home. It’s like what am I supposed to say to that? Sorry my shitty life is to difficult for you to READ? Try living it?

I have always been there to support K, even when I didn’t want to. Even when he went through messed up junk I didn’t want to take part in. Because I thought that’s what friends did. I supported him even when he told me about why he went to prison, or even things he didn’t go to prison for. I was there for him during his search to get a job, and his struggles to adjust to life outside prison. I was there for him when he broke up with his girlfriend (although I told him honestly that it was hard for me to be objective in that circumstance because I was glad they broke up). I was there for him when he knew he was going to fail a piss test and thought he was going to get sent back to max. I watched him sleep on my couch for almost an hour to make sure he was still breathing after he had drank bleach to try and alter the urine sample (on the stupid advice of some other chick). All the while thoughts going through my head about what if he dies on my lap. Even simple stuff like going out to buy cables and driving over to boost his car. I’ve tried my best to be a good friend.

But no, he can’t read a post every once in a while. Among many other things I’ve realized. Like cancelling on important banquets he promised (actually promised) to come to. Or agreeing to go to the shooting range only to bail out once he found out other friends would be there. Or May 19… It’s like being seen in public with me is to difficult for him. 

Fine, I don’t want to ask to much of one man. But I thought if anyone could somewhat understand a life with as much pain as mine, it would be K. 

Wrong again.

We may be kindred spirits so to say, but we are not on the same level. 

-Our Lady Peace/Innocent-

 

 

 

I Don’t Ever Wanna Feel Like I Did That Day, Take Me To The Place I Love, Take Me All The Way

*This post contains NSFW material and graphic content which may trigger some people.*

When I was 19, my body was used for the first time in ways that changed me forever.

I was really good friends with this one couple A and M.  We worked together, we went out dancing every weekend together. I was even planning on moving in with A in a few weeks because she wanted a break from living with her boyfriend M for now. So when A went out of town to Big Valley, M joined my boyfriend W and I on Friday night at our go to club and it was dancing like normal. At the end of the night I drove my boyfriend home and then took M to his and A’s place. I had previously planned to spend the night there since we both had a work meeting early the next morning I was going to drive us too.

They lived on the ground floor of an apartment building so when we walked up to the patio doors, his neighbors were out having drinks with the music blaring. We said our hi’s and headed inside. M poured drinks for us and turned something on the tv, I can’t remember what. I just remember sitting on the couch having my first drink of the night, it was about 1 in the morning, and thinking I have to be at work at 8:30 and how much it sucks, and also how loud the neighbors music was… I could barely hear myself think.

And then outta nowhere, M leaned over and kissed me. Wooh, no! Oh common C, just a little bit, I’ve been wanting this for so long. Why do you think A is moving out? We’re not doing good. She knows I love you.

Ummm… No! I have a boyfriend, and I’m truly sorry things aren’t working out for you guys but I’m not interested. I should leave. I went to stand up to go and that’s when my life changed. M grabbed me from behind and threw me on the floor before I even knew what he was doing. That’s when I started screaming. And hitting and biting and kicking… anything I could do to try and stop this. But M was bigger. And stronger. And a man who should’ve known better. He was on top of me straddling me in no time. Telling me he loved me, and that it was ok. Trying to kiss me. I kept screaming, but the music from next door was drowning out my calls for help. He dragged me by my elbow and hair down the hall to the spare room, where he literally picked me up like a rag doll, threw me on the bed and locked the door. He ripped my pants off and shoved his fingers in my vagina, talking about how much he loved me, and needed me. I’m frantically screaming and pushing away. He kept trying to kiss me and I threw up on the bed and he didn’t care. He just took his dick and shoved it in me. Over and over while I kicked and screamed and cried.

I had things inside my body that I didn’t want. I was used as a toy and degraded. I was humiliated and felt defeated. I had only had sex with one other man, my current boyfriend before this, and I felt like I had betrayed him. I wanted someone to rush in and save me. I wanted time to stop. I wanted to die.

But instead he finished, and rolled over and slept. I managed to move off the other side of the bed to the floor. I was covered in vomit, blood, tears, snot, and semen. And I couldn’t sleep. I couldn’t leave. I couldn’t even cry anymore. All I could do was listen to the music from next door and the stupid sound of the caged mice on the desk. They were like me. Locked in a room. Running on their wheel. We both just wanted to get away. All night. Those mice were the only witnesses to what had happened, and to this day, seeing a mouse brings back every evil moment of that night. To the point I bought a snake so I could feed it live mice every week just to watch them die. Morbid? Yep. Helpful? Very.

I told my boyfriend W about what happened. He handled it so amazingly. He offered advice, but never told me what I should do. He came with me to the clinic to get tested for all those wonderful STI’s. And he held me. He just held me. I never cried about it after the fact, and W understood that. But he still knew that I wanted to be held and feel safe. And he always did that for me. He never got mad when I said I didn’t want to press charges. I told him I didn’t want to have to be dealing with M or the whole situation for however many months/years to come. I basically just wanted to pretend it never happened. Denial at its finest I know, that’s how I operate. And W was ok with whatever I wanted. He recommended certain things that were best for me for sure. But never pushed me into something I wasn’t comfortable with.

Unlike some “men” who think if they say “I love you” then they can fuck you no matter what.


-Red Hot Chili Peppers/Under the Bridge-