What Was I Thinking?

Edited to add:  I wrote this right before Mama Kat's writing workshop prompts came out and it happened to fit perfectly for the "describe a phone call" prompt.  So I'm cheating and using it for that.


This is a tough post for me, but it's something I have to do.  I need to let this all out somewhere.

First of all, here's a little background...
About 13 years ago, I was home from college for the summer.  I was heartbroken from my first taste of love.  I was a 20 year old mess.  After a long, miserable summer I had decided that I just needed to get on with life and start dating again.  That's when I met "S".  To make a long story as short as possible, I fell in love.  We had a very volatile relationship.  He drank.  A lot.  But at the time, so did I (I was in college) so it didn't seem too much of a red flag.  Ok, it was a big flashing neon sign, but I was young and desperate to be in love.  We stayed together through my years in college and then we moved back to my hometown and rented a place together and later he bought us a house there.  When he was sober, we got along great.  He was my best friend and we truly clicked.  We loved to argue have long in depth conversations.  We challenged each other.  I really loved to be around him and it didn't really matter what we were doing, we just enjoyed each other.  And then there was the drinking.  He was a mean drunk.  Not physically.  He never laid a hand on me. (although I was the only thing...there were holes in walls, broken furniture, ect)  But he would yell and scream and rant at me.  All his frustrations would get taken out on me.  In the morning, he would be sorry and 2 days later we would be back to normal.  4 days later it would happen again.  It was a vicious cycle that never ended and left me emotionally tormented.  I wasn't in a unique position...family members of alcoholics deal with this on a daily basis.  I was stuck.  I loved him and cared about him, but I couldn't change him.  Believe me, I tried.  Finally, 6 years later, I somehow managed to leave.  I left fast and without warning.  Basically, I ran like hell and never looked back.  I stopped answering calls and wouldn't tell him where I was.  I felt like I escaped.

I jumped into a new relationship almost immediately.  I didn't mean to, but I think I knew that I would be tempted to go back and being in a new relationship kept me away from him. (I had tried leaving a few times before and always went back)   Leaving him was the hardest thing I had ever done.  I hated him for not being able to put down the bottle.  I hated myself for staying as long as I did.  I hated myself for still caring about him no matter what he dished out to me.  I hated myself for abandoning him and not being strong enough to get us both through it.  I did the only thing I was strong enough to do.  I completely blocked him and the past 6 years from my memory and thoughts and moved on like those years never existed.  I moved on.  I had a family.  I thought I was happy. 

Then shit happened.  My world fell apart. 

In the months that followed, I tried to find myself and put myself back together.  One night I re-read some of my old journals and came across some entries from when S and I were together.  It all started coming back to me.  In a moment of weakness, I made a mistake.  I called him.  Dumb, dumb, dumb.  I don't know why I did it.  Loneliness, guilt, soul searching...I was just lost and somehow I knew that I would get some answers from him.  So we talked and talked and talked some more.  We fell right back into our friendship and banter.  He made me feel good and I realized how much I missed him.  He told me he grew up.  He told me he changed.  Told me that messing up with me was the biggest regret he had.  I knew it was possible, but unlikely.  But I'm a sucker. We went to a movie.  We texted.  We hung out.  Then, I got scared.  It was getting too comfortable and I wasn't ready.  He said he understood and hoped someday we could have a chance, but he realized that I needed my time and space.  Quite honestly, I just had some little feelings that he hadn't change as much as he led on and I am not putting myself and my daughter through that.  I just won't do it.  I felt guilty (again) though. 

That was over a month ago.  We haven't talked since.  Occasionally I get a text from him, and I have responded with short and to the point replies. 

And then my phone rang.

Last night at 10:30pm, I get a phone call from him.  I answered b/c I hadn't talked to him in awhile and it wasn't like him to call.  (texting is more his style)

He was drunk.  I should have hung up right then, but I didn't.  Dumb, dumb, dumb.  I listened.  I listened to him ramble and slur and beg.  I listened to him confess that I am the only person he has ever loved.  I listened to him call me an asshole.  I basically listened to a flashback of 10 years ago.  I finally told him I couldn't listen anymore and hung up.  He called over and over and I sent the calls to voicemail.  He texted and I ignored him. 

I slept like shit. 

I hate alcoholism.  HATE it.  It has robbed him.  I know that he is an amazing person with a huge heart.  Having a relationship with an alcoholic is like being in a relationship with two different people.  One that you love and one that you hate.  You can't separate the two of them no matter how much you want to.  You can't fix it and it doesn't just go away.  I spent 6 years trying to save him from himself and I almost lost myself in the fight.  Today I'm sad and pissed off.  I'm sad that he hasn't found his way out yet.  I'm sad that he just doesn't see it and continues to self destruct.  I'm pissed that I almost got sucked back in and I'm pissed that I still care.

What's Missing Tells More

They say that the contents of a woman's purse says a lot about her.  Mama Kat's writing prompt this week was to tell what the contents of your purse say about you.  I started to write about this and decided that it just wasn't very insightful.  The contents of my purse are pretty sparse and predictable.  The more I thought about it, the more I realized that the things NOT in my purse say a lot more about me.

What's missing...

1.  Tissues and Wet Wipes.  I'm a mom and I should have these things, but I don't.  What's worse is that I know I will need them and I still neglect to put them in.  I don't know why...no clue.  For crying out loud, my mom has Wet Wipes in her purse and she doesn't even have a toddler.  Whenever I am out with my mom and my child, I have to ask her for Wet Wipes for my kid.  Fail.  Sadly, this is very typical of me.  I am just not a prepared sort of girl.  I figure that anywhere I go there is bound to be a bathroom with papertowels and water.  Maybe this is why I was a girl scout drop out.

2.  Credit Cards.  Yup, not a one.  I got myself into trouble with credit cards and I have since sliced and diced them all.  The closest thing I have is my debit card.  I'm actually pretty proud of this even though it means I have missed out on some great purchases.  I'm not good at self discipline and I am a compusive shopper, so this goes in the win category.

3.  Toys, games, ect.  Once again, I'm just not very prepared.  I know there are times when they would be nice to keep the little one occupied, but I just don't do it.  Part of it is because I just don't like having a 30 pound purse, part of it is because I am a slacker. 

4.  Medicine.  You would think I would learn to keep some Tylenol in there, but I never do.  But hey, if I get a headache I'm sure my mom has some in her purse.

5.  Makeup.  Not because I don't need it, but because I just don't have time to mess with it when I am out.  Oh, I may have some chapstick, but that is all.  I am a horse girl.  I live on the farm and don't wear make up everyday.  It's not because I am self confident, it's because I just don't have the time to care most days. 

6.  Money.  This one just sucks.

7.  A Calendar.  I used to have one, now I have my blackberry and without it I would be completely lost.  It's a little crazy how much I rely on that thing.  I'm not sure I would know any of my friends' numbers without it.  I certainly wouldn't know when or where I was supposed to be most days.  It's a crutch and I've come to terms with that.

So there you have it, I'm an unprepared slacker.  In reality, my purse has very little in it and most days I just grab my wallet and leave my purse behind.  On the other hand, I could live for a week out of what is in my car...it has EVERYTHING stashed in it.  I don't really know what all this says about me...maybe I need to take my purse to therapy and have it's contents (or lack thereof) analyzed by a professional.

Back on the Main Land

Sorry for the lack of posting lately, but I was out of town and then recovering from being out of town.  Charlie and I went to Hawaii for one of my best friend's wedding.  It was an amazing trip!  I had planned on going on this trip since it was first offered almost 9 months ago, but with all the recent events in my life I wasn't sure I would still go.  In the end, I opted to go and to take Charlie along with me.  I was worried about the long trip there and back with a 3 1/2 year old.  I don't travel much and I have only flown twice in my life...once for my senior year spring break and once for my honeymoon.  Taking a 14 hour trip across country with my daughter was a scary, yet exciting thought.

I wasn't sure I was doing the right thing.  My parents tried and tried to convince me to leave Charlie with them and go on my own, but the thought of being that far from her was paralyzing.  Not only that, but I really wanted us to have the experience together.  I was terrified, but the fear was all for nothing.  We had a fantastic time and the traveling, while somewhat never-racking, was quite smooth.  My little girl was a champ on all the flights (6 in all) and I managed to keep track of her and our luggage without losing my sanity. 

I can't even begin to describe all the amazing things that happened on our trip, but it was an experience I will never forget.  Besides, if I do forget any of it, I have a couple hundred pictures to remind me.  I won't bore you with all the flowery descriptions and details of everything we did, but I will say this...Hawaii is by far the most beautiful place I have ever been in my life.  It is the closest thing to paradise I can even imagine.  I would go back in a heartbeat (if I could afford it). 

In the end, it turned out to be a priceless experience for me.  I feel somewhat empowered by it all.  I am a newly single mom and I live very close to my friends and family.  I am lucky to have such a strong support group so close by, but sometimes it leaves me feeling dependant.  Sometimes I question my ability to be a good mom without having to constantly lean on others.  This trip made me realize that I can do things on my own and be quite competent.  Was I nervous?  SHIT YES.  Did we survive?  Of course.  Did we rock Hawaii and have a great time?  HELLS TO THE YEAH!!

I'm Outta Here!

Sorry for the lack of posting lately, but my internet has been down.  I hope you all are doing well.  I will be on hiatus for a bit, but I promise to be back soon and post all the details! 

Mission Accomplished

# 7....completed.

Hallelujah! 

Glowing.

Dear Charlie

* This picture really isn't this old...I just didn't set the date on my camera...dur.

One of the things I've struggled with lately is how to be honest with my daughter, yet still keep things age appropriate. It's just me and her now. I want to keep a very open relationship with her and above all I want to make sure she knows that she can trust me. I've been very careful not to lie to her about her father's death, but at the same time I haven't been completely open with her. I can't. Someday I will have to find a way to explain to her that he chose to take his own life, I just don't think that at three she is ready to understand that. I've tried to figure out how to balance it all and I've come up with a compromise of sorts. While I don't think my idea is completely original (I think I have heard bits and pieces of others with similar ideas), I still maintain that the idea is pretty kick ass.

I've always like to journal and blog, so I am going to use it to my advantage. I'm going to start a new journal. I'm calling it "Dear Charlie." I'm going to write letters to her in hopes that someday she can read them and it will give us both a starting ground to talk about all the things life throws at you. I can tell her what I am going through right now...how I am feeling about things right now. Then, someday, when she is ready to understand, it will give her insight and remind me of how I was feeling "back then". I want to tell her about my college experiences...yes, even some of the not so proud moments, in hopes that she learns from them. And even if she doesn't learn from them, at least she will know that her mom did some really dumb things, so there isn't anything she should ever be ashamed to come to me about. I want to tell her how much she amazes me on a day basis, so that when she's older and goes through moments (hopefully short ones) of hating me, she'll have a reminder of how much I truly care. I want to write little snippets of happy or funny memories so that one day we can both look back and laugh and reminisce together.

There's another reason for all of this. I keep struggling with how I didn't really know my husband. I honestly don't know how he felt about me. I don't understand what he was going through or what he was feeling up to point where he decided that it just wasn't worth going on. It kills me. Someday my daughter is going to struggle with that too. She is going to wonder, like I do, why he didn't love us enough to stay with us. I know, I know...that's not the right way to look at it and you really can't take it that way. Right or wrong, it fucks with you just the same. I need her to know, that while I can't give her the answers to explain what was going on in her dad's head, I can leave her with undeniable proof that her mom loves her more than anything. If, God forbid, something would ever happen to me to take me from this world before my daughter is old enough to know that, I want to leave her with my words. My words letting her know just how smart, beautiful, loving and amazing she truly is. My words reminding her that I love her more than I ever knew it possible to love someone. I want to leave her with my hopes and dreams for her. I want to leave her advice in case I'm not here to give it.

I hope I have years and years to write these letters to her and I hope that one day we will get the chance to read them together. 

How

How can you love someone and hate someone so much all at the same time?

How can you act so strong on the outside that everyone else believes it (even yourself most days), even though you are dying on the inside?

How can you mourn someone that betrayed you? Even though a part of you hates them, deep down you know that you still love them(and somehow you hate yourself for hating them and hate yourself for loving them...all at the same time.

How do you know who to turn to when the one person you want to talk to, need to talk to, is gone?

It's been a rough day. I've been sick for a week (hence the lack of posting). It's been almost 6 months that he's been gone. It seems like it's been a lifetime and yet it feels like it was yesterday. I was so angry at first that I couldn't cry. I was ashamed that I couldn't be sad. Now I am sad and I feel stupid to cry over someone who wronged me in so many ways. No matter what emotion I am feeling (and there are about 100 different ones a day), I feel like it is wrong. I'm all over the place. I feel torn and broken. I am turning to all the wrong things in hope of distraction from the emotions I don't know how to face. I'm tired. Physically and emotionally. If I wasn't sick I would probably go out and find someone to distract me, but I just don't have the energy. So instead I am sitting here being haunted by me.