Two faces, only make you talk louder!

I promise, I don’t get on here to whine, or make people feel sorry for me. That’s just being selfish! And its also a bit presumptuous, to think anyone reads this.

However, I am going to complain tonight. I recently spent some time with some of my family. Two women, both moms, different ages, and different personalities. But we all get along well enough. We do dinners, lunches, or nails together.  I just get my toes done. I’m trying to grow out my fingernails. The gel manicure really thinned them out! 

And I’ve gone off track again! So we all hang out, and generally have fun. I try to watch what I say – at least when it comes to my opinion of anyone’s lifestyle. I have absolutely no right whatsoever to judge anyone! So I stay quiet about how other people live. Easy! I don’t say anything hurtful. I don’t comment on my impressions of people. If someone wants to tell me a secret, that is up to them. However, I do not have the right to tell those secrets to anyone. And I won’t blab about it!

I should inttoduce these ladies. J- mother of a 20 year old son. And P- mother of three kids under the age of 15. Then, there is also me- mother of 2 kids on the spectrum. We, as a family, are a veritable cross-section of american parenting. We all have our own philosophies, and practices. Still good, nothing wrong with any of that.

At any rate, the 3 of us were hanging out and I could tell that J seemed somewhat touchy. I didn’t figure out until later, that I wasn’t technically invited by the whole group. So of course, not knowing that I actually crashed “their time”, I was getting quite anxious. But I had to keep myself in check. If J was snippy, I did not want to start anything, as I always get to be the third or fourth person to even find out what happened when she got mad at me! It’s ridiculous, and most of the time I don’t get the chance to defend myself, or even realize that I need to.

So J is already set in her attitude, and P noticed it, and I realized she was on guard as well. As the day and conversation continue, I noticed that J only had negative things to say…about everyone – excluding P. She went on about how she thinks this and that about other people, and how they SHOULD live their lives. This is NOT a new personality trait. Its all “I am awesome. And other people should be more like me” – type of thinking that she’s always had. 

Again, I didn’t respond as I had no right to. At one point she got on the topic of her son and his girlfriend. She is really not happy with this situation. She is his mom, she can think what she wants about her son. But then she began flinging negative comments about his girlfriend. Some of which are also aimed at me. I listenened more closely, and kept my mouth shut, hoping she would realize her own faux-pas and either backtrack, apologize, or stop doing it altogether. It was a while later that I realized I should have stood up for myself and the poor girl who wasn’t there to defend herself! I was so upset with my own inaction, that I actually cut again!

I was doing so good.  

The very next night, J sat at dinner, across from the girlfriend and was all sweetness and niceties. I was almost outraged. It clearly showed that she does this sort of thing with ease! Like its a natural reflex to trash someone, then be nice to them in person. I hoped age and maturity might have changed her, but no…she is exactly as she was the day I met her. I know I’ve changed in a lot of ways over the years. Not all of them are good. But I recognize those behaiors, and TRY to minimize them, or walk away.

It never fails. After being around a scene like that I cant help but carry the anger or hurt with me. I take my meds and do something to take my mind off the awfulness. Sometimes it works, sometimes I just avoid that person for a while.

I may not be perfect, but I feel and think more than people know. 

My Comedian Fetish…

I have always been the kind of girl who loves to laugh! I didn’t discover real comedy until my teens, and the few guys who could make me laugh. Looking back, I’d probably have slept with them, simply because they were so staunchly different from the guy I was dating. He never put much value in humor back then. No idea what he is like now.

But comedians just really juice me up! Omg! I have a major crush on Louis C.K.  And I’m not sure if its his sense of humor, his insights on parenting, or the fact that I wanna climb him like a tree and just rock his world. Perhaps, that’s a bit too colorful…

At any rate, sign me up Louie!

I find myself thinking about WB a lot lately. It makes me sad and lonely. I mean I know I won’t love anyone the way I do him. And I also know that I will never see him again. It keeps me from opening up to anyone else. Which is probably a good thing.

We were the exact same person when we were together. Everything, every decision, every insecurity, all of it was felt between us both simultaneously. And even though I dont know if his love was real, for me it was, and nothing else compares to the first time we touched. Those are my memories. No one can take them and even he cant deny the instantaneous rush of real, true love between us at that moment.

Regrets? Only that I didn’t stay the first time. Not that either of us would know what to do about that situation. If I never came back home, I’d still have him. 

I cannot change the past. But he too made me smile. For ev
ery possible reason.

Late…

Yeh, he is late again. And it’s Monday. It is actually every Monday. So that’s not suspicious or anything. He calls me early to tell me he will be late. I honestly feel like the biggest butt of the worst possible, cliched, saddest joke ever told. I make sure the monkeys are fed and/or clean before he gets home. Which always changes, I have no idea where he even is when he calls, even his call-in time is completely unpredictable, so having anything prepared at the appropriate time is impossible.

Not like I would be able to get anything done. My meds slow me down, so my sloth status remains in place. I’ve barely been able to motivate myself to even make dinner for eveyone. I am sloth, hear me do nothing! I need to clean the floors and couches. I am constantly battling some thing or another. Disappointment, depression, anxiety, lack of focus, mood swings, side effects. I really shouldn’t even stress over these things. My meds should take care of numbing every feeling I might have.

I haven’t been unfaithful for a very long time. As much as I want my lover, I can’t even get excited enough to actually leave my house. This is next level Sloth!  I can’t even get exicted anout having crazy, animalistic, sweaty, heart-pounding,  on-the-sly sex! What the hell is wrong with me? He actually likes the extra weight I’ve put on, and WANTS to fucking touch every inch of me! 

But the one man I am attached to, cant even be bothered to convincingly hide his whatever he is doing. It could be anything. I have no idea what his salary is, nor how much time he actually puts in. I feel like I need more information. Fuck it! Maybe I should go back to cutting and making each day a piece of compensatory blood and pain for the universe to suck out of me.

I don’t think I even need to speak. No one hears me anyway. I am a blob of white noise.

Was I high?!

I’ve been trying to live a more active life. I take walks, I eat less, drink more water, (perhaps a bit more wine too). Whatever you may think of my life, I am trying to make more of an effort to be active. Even if it is only mopping the floors, or folding clothes. Its more than I’ve done on a daily basis, since my breakdown.

However, as my husband brings up Jenny Craig, and weight watchers frequently, I realize his snide remarks are his way of motivating me. (I hope!)  His sympathy for my struggle is somewhat less  than heartfelt. He keeps candy next to the bed, and frequently eats pounds of it in a single sitting.  I don’t begrudge him his vice, I just try to keep my hands busy and drink more spring water.

When I had my last long walk (a lot less than long, really), I noticed quite quickly the burn and stretch in my calves. At first I assumed it was just part of getting back in the groove of walking again. However, that sensation stayed in my calves. Not adding any to my thighs, or hips. Just localized in my calves.

This led me to believe I should take longer steps. I shortly realized that too, made no difference. I’m quite sure my neighbors got a show, watching me trying to re-learn a proper powerwalk!

Bending my arms at the elbows, huffing and puffing, and trying to get a good footing on very uneven ground provided for an odd looking physical application to the Ministry of Silly Walks!  (showing my age)

At any rate, I eventually realized that I wasn’t swinging my hips, or flexing my butt cheeks! Walking may come easy to some, but I felt like I’d recently had my hips replaced with non-moving  metal parts! So I now have to make a conscious, and concerted effort to swing and flex when I walk! Where did my swagger go?

Not to be beaten by booty flexes and burning calves, I decided to try an indoor mini workout. I am a huge fan of BBT, and I just happened upon a few workouts based on the show, i.e. when this happens on the show, you do X exercise.

I squeezed into my sports bra, which was so tight the “girls” could barely move, but I could feel the circulation in my back fat being restricted! Oh well, at least I wouldn’t get any added boob droopage! I started a show in season two, sure to incorporate more actions and movements. Yay!

10 pushups, OH MY GAWD!! WHY CAN I FEEL THAT IN MY STOMACH?!!!

30 jumping jacks, Why can’t I stay balanced???

30 more jumping jacks. Fuck moving my arms, let my legs do the heavy lifting!

What the hell is a mountain climber? Or a reverse crunch?

Was I high when I decided this was a good idea?!?! 

Lesson learned…stick to funky walking!!!

Clothes, food, kids, and all things frustrating!

Let’s begin at the beginning.

CLOTHES! You self-righteous, unapologetic, fabric demons! I hate you all. Everything from foundation wear, to evening wear! You all have a secret agenda – destroy any positive body image I may have. Yes, I know I have put on weight. That happens when people start medications like mine. Those drugs are designed to slow you down so you don’t freak out over stupid little shit, like the fact that you have to buy new clothes! And others are designed to make you not care that you had to go up 4 sizes in the span of a year! They also slow down your metabolism, sex drive, and motivation! So yeh…I’m fat, and upset about it, but give my xanax time to kick in and I wont give a flying fuck about anything. I am trying very hard to be more active. I purchased some workout-like clothes and a hopefully supportive bra, to help me get motivated to get my lazy ass up and start walking. I know it isn’t much, but one has to begin somewhere!

Food, you have the same agenda. I love you and hate you. I eat one meal a day. typically its the family dinner. However, I have realized no matter how little I eat, I’m not really burning the extra calories, carbs, and sugars that I eat in that one meal. So I added a metabolism booster to my spring water to help me burn something when I’m not so active. Every little bit helps. However, my husband’s snide remarks have only managed to add to my sense of defeat. I’m tired of gym membership commercials, and 5,000 recipes for wonderful water detox systems that do nothing! Movement, activity, and diet change are what is needed! Despite your beckoning call, Little Debbie!!!!

I love and adore my children. I love their quirks and questions. Their idiosyncrasies, and their bravery to be who they are. That being said, I think I’ve had my fill of the Pink panther theme song, and an off-key saxophone rendition of Eye of the Tiger. I find myself often frustrated with their lack of concern for the state of the house. To remedy that I have devised a system of snack eating, which should help curb some of the more disruptive and disgusting habits they have formed. For instance, I have threatened them both, that if either of them does not follow the rules, they will both lose their tv/movie/game privileges! Every after school snack is labeled with a name, an equal portion size, and a reminder to eat additional fruit. They are then required to return their label to the inside of the cabinet door, and all dishes to the sink. If any one of these steps are not followed, they BOTH lose privileges. I am tired of finding apple cores stuffed between my couch cushions, and chip wrappers under their beds!

WE are not a zoo, and I am not a keeper! They are both old enough to walk the entire 10 feet to the kitchen and clean up after themselves! I also had to go so far as to label many foods “off limits”, as I am trying to stretch my budget as far as I can. They would happily go through as many snacks as possible in one afternoon! However, my grocery budget is about $250.00 every two weeks. And feeding teenage boys is rather a lot like feeding a sinkhole!
The stress and frustration is there. I am dealing. Perhaps, not as well as most. Though I do try. Frustrations and set backs will happen, and I need to learn to accept that, make appropriate changes, and hopefully, move on.

P.S. Please forgive the typos and poor grammar. Its 4am, and I had a seizure yesterday.

If you loved me the way I love you … Watch “Train – Drive By” on YouTube

It’s an old song, and likely the oldest story ever told. One sided love. It hurts. It bites, and it’s also the only way I know I can love unconditionally. 
Time, age, space, distance, and silence has done nothing to smother this flame. So what if I am acting completely irrational! It only shows commitment, in my commitment. And screw you, if you don’t interpret my obsessive emails and continuous postings about my broken heart, as they were intended!  Clearly, I am not the loose nut!
I may be aggressive, confrontational, emotional, and of questionable sanity, but dammit you are my soul mate! You know it!  You knew it before we even met! You  sweetly and quite unsoberly muttered those three little words…and I smiled brighter than I ever could. At the time I assumed your meds were the cause. However, I did reciprocate your words, with my own true heartfelt love! Bastard!
You did this to me and then left me broken, and I never want to be without that pain…unless you finally relent and agree that we SHOULD be together! But you won’t.  I see that man who looks like you, and for a fraction of a second my heart skips, I live and die in that breath when I catch his gaze. He must think I’m crazy, I mostly am. Though, the number of times this has happened…he must think I have started stalking him!  
In some weird way, I hope he can relay that sense of seeing me through his eyes , to you. Still, there isn’t  another you. There isn’t another me. We have already met one another, and there isn’t any going back. Our moments are all ours, and nothing will sully those memories. No matter what you try to forget. We were never more happy than when we were face to face, skin to skin, soul to soul….
I will always love you, no matter the pain, and also because of it.

I’m the Mother of a teen Boy…

My oldest son just turned 13 this weekend. Omg! Where has the time gone?! He was just a baby only a heartbeat ago! 
I realize every mother goes through this, and we all reminisce about those days when they loved ONLY Mom, or kissed and hugged us on purpose.  But his hugs and kisses need to be almost dragged out of him these days. I read some research that stated boys will reach an age where the pheromones we give off triggers their brain/ body to be repelled by us.  I almost curled into a ball crying!  He’s MY boy!
So To help lift my spirits and be less repulsive, I allowed him to skip school and we went to see his first pg-13 movie with his best friend. I thought I was totally the cool mom, skipping school, being truant, AND seeing a kick-ass movie, with giant sized popcorn  and smuggled in candy! I know it’s not a big deal to bunk off every now and then, but damn! I thought it would help him earn cool points at school!
He gave, not a fuck! He was definitely  excited and happy, but never caught on the whole school skipping, and candy smuggling. I was a cool mom, in my head for about 10 minutes, until he opened his big fat mouth and asked me why we were going on a Friday….

I promise I m trying to toughen him up, and let him break arbitrary  rules. Hopefully, this makes him cool-er. But alas, my boy is blinded by the moment, and not seeing that he might be getting teased. I hope he isn’t being teased, anyway. Although, being oblivious might be a good thing too…

I don’t know. I’m just trying to help him navigate the murky waters of adolescence. I wish his dad would take more time with him, I learned the “mean girls” side of things, which is more emotionally scarring!  Though, I really do  think the boys his age are completely clueless. And I’m not completely sure they ever grow out of it!

I miss the days when it was all, sleepovers and pizzas! This is somewhat more complicated, and delicate. 

I’m not ready!

Holiday dealings…

This morning I woke up to 25 texts about the upcoming family meal! Really, Folks?!! Didn’t we already do this two weeks ago?

Anyhoo, I have tons of cooking to do, a side and a dessert. Doesn’t sound like much, but the fact is, I have to make a ton of them to feed everyone at least one serving each.

I’m making twice baked potatoes, and some cupcake thingys everyone loves so much they steal and smuggle them off, for eating later! Now here comes the tricky bit. There will be 14 kids there – under the age of 13! We also have 2 grandmas, and like 16 other adults. This is no small affair! We are having 3 kinds of meat – and no, a Tur-Duck-en has ever been laid at our table! I’m not even interested in finding out how that tastes! There will likely be more food than we need, so I am taking along dishes to bring home leftovers! Makes the food budget last longer!

Personally, I am just glad my house is too small for gatherings. I really like that about my house. Well that, and we don’t live too close, or too far for random visits, or guests! Perfect!

At any rate my aforementioned bio-dad had planned to have dinner with my little family. First it was here, then it was there and now they have just called it off completely. I feel like it had to do with my situation. Perhaps, some people don’t know how to handle me. They might not know where I would fit. Whatever the reason, I just feel jipped!

He cancelled on taking my son for a birthday lunch, and now this. I am seeing this pattern, and I don’t like it. I am the kind of mom who hides things about events, or vacations, or visits from my kids until we are in the car going there. They obsess, and ask a million questions every day, until they are at the event anyway. So I just cut that drama stuff out. And they don’t know that we were dumped again. I am grateful that I haven’t disappointed them about this!

I’m quite upset with my dad since he didn’t even tell me himself. I heard it from my cousin. And I am even beginning to questions his motives for doing that. Either way, my kids wont miss anything. they’ve only laid eyes on him twice. I’ve only seen him a few more times than they have, so I really don’t know what I am in for.

Should I trust him? Should I act like it was nothing, even though it caused me to cut, again? I told him flat-out, that it bothered me and I wasn’t coping well. What he does about that is entirely up to him. I can only text and wait. My older son has a birthday soon, and of course then its Christmas! I’m not going to say a word. If he wants anything to do with us, he will say so.

I think he doesn’t know how to handle all the things he missed with me. Finding out my childhood was far worse than he hoped for, and my own psychoses which he blames himself for, can be hard to digest. But I fight everyday to love myself. I can’t sit around worried about what other people think (even though its all I think about)…

Thankful, and honored, I am not!

What makes it a feeling?

I’m no philosopher, nor do I ever read such literature, so I basically have no idea what its true meaning is. I could grab my Webster’s, or google it; but I’m not even sure THAT would give me a proper understanding of the differences between philosphy, emotion, and thought.

I can think about feelings. I can feel a few emotions. I can think thoughts, and have feelings about them. But… does one truly sit back and ponder the convoluted intricasies of philosophy? Maybe, that’s what I am doing, unknowingly! I have no clue!

The only reason I ever considered thinking about feelings, in the first place, was because I wondered if my parents knew how lonely I really was! Did they realize what they were doing to me; and by my ignorance of my feelings, or hiding them, did anyone even notice it?

As a mother, I watch my kids like a hawk! I watch their reactions to things, and I hide them from the bad, or harmful. I ask questions about their feelings, or check if they have questions about their own feelings. I don’t remember anyone doing that with me. I feel as though everyone should have a someone that does that for them. Either forcing them to confront ideas and emotions they want to hide, or just by being the person which helps them to vent those emotions. It should be a basic human right. But it isn’t.

It should be a requirement, I think. I also think Ethics should be taught in schools, not just colleges! I would probably break most ethical ideals, but I do still believe in having rules. My shrink says I am so used to being unseen, that I like breaking rules just to check that I am still invisible. And so far I have yet to be wrong.

Maybe I am about 50% crazy, and 50% conscientious. I know right from wrong and I still make mistakes, or purposely push boundaries and break rules. But I also have respect for each person’s individual rights. I take care not to trip over ALL societal rules and regulations, when I purposely choose the Dark Side. If I were a Jedi…I’d be a Grey…at best!

Even now, I sit here typing away, knowing only the tiniest percent of people who are on this website will even see the title, let alone read the damned thing!

So why do I post? Because, I have no one to listen. Still… at my age, I have no one to tell my secrets to. I can say that I have reservations about seeing my dad again, but no one I know, would understand the feeling. I can tell anyone who’d listen all my horrors and woes…but they couldn’t share the ideas emotions which caused them.

But how do you find a Someone? Some have best friends, some have spouses, or family members, and some pay a psychologist or counselor. But again…these people wouldn’t understand HOW I feel. They’d have no point of relation. Millions of people have divorced parents. Nothing new. Most of those parents were adult enough to keep the lines of communication open for both parents and children. I didn’t have that.

Hell, I still have no idea why my mother even wanted to keep me around. She clearly didn’t like me. She went out of her way to be sure I knew that in her eyes, I was half Demon. So why keep me? Why not just let me go to someone else. She certainly threatened to drop me off at orphanages plenty of times! For that matter, why didn’t my father fight to stay in my life, or to keep me?! I feel like the loser’s prize in a contest of responsibility!

I don’t know the specifics of my own upbringing! What the fuck does one do with that kind of reality?! I mean…it’s a part of me as much as my blood and bones, but I am not allowed to talk about it, or feel the utter void of it. I don’t even know if, or HOW I should deal with it!

I’ve tried online chats and so forth, but those people all seem to want sex, or a relationship out of it. I can provide neither of those things to anyone. And I don’t want that kind of attachment. Counselors, and psychologists would listen…but again, no point of personal reference, AND I’d have to pay them. IS there a term for people like me? I know I CANNOT be the only one!!!

It’s all so confusing, and I have no one to ask, without a major emotional ordeal. I want answers and the only people who can give them, would be hurt or appalled at my asking, and likely never speak to me again! I risk losing my unknown heritage, just by asking about it!!!

Seriuosly, what the hell kinda screwed up bullshit is my life?!

I wish there was a lawsuit or some kind of mediation, I could use to force them to both be open and rational enough to just tell me both sides, and let me deal with what I need to without all the emotional turmoil! What would that be called? Adult mediation for children of divorced parents? I don’t know. It’s all too crazy for even me to wrap my head around!!!

Additionally, if someone DOES read this, and wants to use me as a study case, I am all ears. Maybe you can find answers I can’t!!!

Shadows…

​I am laying at the edge of my bed, running my fingers through my hair, as it hangs off the side. The cool air of the window unit, blowing through every strand. It’s getting longer; even if it’s a bit thinner. Longer and much darker than you’ve seen it. I like the color, it suits me so much more than baby blonde. I realize you liked the blonde, but it’s blue/black now. 

It falls like an inky, sinister shadow, clinging in curls around my neck, and spiking downward past my shoulders. I do my best to keep it shiny and smooth. Brushing lightly, or finger combing it to relax. Daydreaming, remembering,  and viewing new scenarios in my head, with a happier tone than what we have now.

You knew me as a blonde girl, able to wrap men around my pinkie with a sweet smile or an insolent pout of my lips. While I know my hair isn’t the part of me you treasured, it is the one thing I could change, one that could halt you, if only for a moment.

I imagine you catching a glimpse of me, on a crowded square. People rushing between us, but you see me watching you. My eyes, the ones you fell for, holding you for a scant few seconds. You feel me, see me, and your breath stops as you stare into the eyes of a different woman than you knew.

The same eyes you stared into for long minutes, between breaths. The same eyes that rendered you speechless, and shaking as we met in the airport. The same eyes that never stopped smiling when you looked into them.

The same eyes that cried tears…when you forgot me.

I cannot change my eyes. I dont want to. I do wish it were you stroking your fingers through my hair. I still dream it. I still beg the stars, as always. 

Your eyes won’t see these words. Yet, I pray to the stars every night, asking them to carry my thoughts to you…

Only you know if it works.