I'm not sure where I want to start tonight. I'm in such a weird mood. I was very productive today-drove Minnie to her appointment and ran her errands, exercised, paid bills, cleaned my house, did laundry-all of that usually leaves me feeling like I've accomplished something. I also played the Keri Hilson song "Pretty Girl Rock" over and over again (I'm turning that into my anthem, slowly but surely), then put in my headphones and sang at the top of my lungs over my iPod. The exercise was dancing, which usually helps. Yet here I sit, just....numb. I'm not in any kind of mood really, when I've tried so hard to be in one today. I just can't shake this cloud from over my head.
So...I left off after having met Jake. Our first date was June 22, 2004....it was Nathan's birthday, that's how I remember. When he asked me out we were both wiping down tables in the lobby at Burger King-I didn't need any help doing that so I knew something was up. He said his best friend was coming into town and they were going to Phoenix, that he knew I'd never been and wondered if I wanted to go. I said yes without even thinking about it. I was lonely, I felt sort of like an outcast given that I was still married even though I had left my husband 2000 miles behind me, I just said yes. If only I could have a talk with my 17-year-old self....but I can't.
I found myself meeting his mother in Phoenix, eating at the Waffle House and walking around the mall, then going to see the Crusty Demons Global Assault Tour (motocross). That was the first and last time Jake ever chose to look at me over another woman. The dancers came out, clad in only bikinis, and he refused to look at them. He said I was the only woman he had eyes for. Hah, what a laugh. Then as we drove back to Sierra Vista he kept reaching back and playing with my hair. He came across as so sweet, so devoted. I was an idiot and I fell for it.
Then I realized he still lived with his "ex"-girlfriend. He still lived with her for the first few months of our relationship. She was a stripper and I only got to go visit after he was sure she was out for the evening.
Then I found out he smoked and sold pot. That speaks for itself. I actually didn't resist it that much until I got pregnant with our first child, when I put my foot down. Prior to meeting him I'd have never wanted to hook up with someone that dealt drugs, even if it was just pot. I don't condone it; I smoked one time ever in my entire life and didn't care much for it. (It was with Delaney, out of an apple....what a weird situation that was).
Then it started with the women. It came in so many stages, and it's all jumbled. There were the girls at work: I found a "slut hall of fame" on his cell phone where he got the girls to life their uniforms so he could take pictures of their tits. There was the time I drove for hours to find him only to locate him in the park with his arms around someone else. (With that one at least it had to have been an attention thing-she was a big girl that didn't have very good hygiene and that just isn't his style). There were the phone numbers I found hidden in books. There was the time I almost got another job but he was messing around with a girl there and she convinced the manager not to hire me. There was the little blonde that he made out with behind the store in plain sight, then had over to his place one night. There was the girl he made out with at work when I was pregnant the first time. There was the time a girl dropped him off at home completely drunk and stoned out of his mind-I made him walk to get his car the next day. There was the girl he met in a chat room.
I could honestly go on with that list forever. I could add the bazillion times he promised he'd stop smoking pot which led to me discovering that he had never quit. I could go on and on and on about the terrible parts of our relationship....and they were there from the very start. There really wasn't any good. He didn't hold me, we didn't have conversations, he never took me anywhere, it was like that from the beginning, yet my stubborn ass stayed. Mom says it's because he was the bad boy and I wanted to tame him. She could be right, I don't know, but I stayed.
Nathan moved out to Arizona and became my (strictly platonic) roommate. He wanted me back but I wasn't having it. I was entirely too stubborn to admit I was wrong and instead settled for having him as my closest friend. He was relentless in his efforts to reignite our failed relationship though, and I often found myself wanting to curl up in his bed instead of mine at night. He bought me a 1/2 carat diamond bridal set while I was dating Jake. He said he wanted me to have it because I never had one while we were together. I told him no, told him to take it back, but he refused. It was the most beautiful piece of jewelry I have ever owned. He wore on me constantly, and eventually I called it off with Jake and accepted Nathan's proposal-it was right around Valentine's Day 2005. I wore that gorgeous ring for a week before I went back to Jake. I still can't tell you why I went back to him.
One of Nathan's last-ditch efforts happened one night when I fell asleep on the sofa bed watching a movie. He curled up with me and held me, but when I woke up he was trying to put my hand down his pants. It brought an instant flashback of my "father" and I flew into him. He meant no harm, he said he wanted to make me believe I still wanted him. I did want him, but I thought I wanted Jake more. We talked through the episode and I forgave him, and he continued living with me.
I quit Burger King, having decided that I had no future there because I wanted to stay with Jake. I went to work at Aegis, a call center for American Express. I hated that place but the pay was a big step up. I met a girl named Trina and we hit it off really well. We were right at about the same age, had the same interests in life/movies/music/whatever, and before you know it she moved in with Nathan and me. I loved her dearly-she and I became very close. We worked the 4 am shift then came home and donned workout gear. We walked a mile down the street to the park, walked several miles there, then walked the mile back home. I lost a TON of weight and started feeling really good about myself.
Then came the unfortunate circumstances that surrounded Nathan getting kicked out. I know what I found, but it has never been cleared as to what actually happened, so I'm not going to discuss that here-I prefer to stick to facts and my opinions/feelings for this site, so that's all I'm going to write. I did call the cops to have him escorted out so that Trina's relatives didn't hurt him-they were on their way down and they were ANGRY. Mexican families are generally very close-knit and take offense if they believe a relative has been slighted in some way-Trina's family certainly was, and they'd have seriously injured Nathan. If you ever read this Nathan, I didn't kick you out because I wanted to, just for the record. I didn't believe your side of things at that time, but I did not want Johnny and the lot getting their hands on you. For that-and for so many other things-I'm sorry.
That left just me and Trina. The gas was in Nathan's name and he called and had it shut off, meaning I had to come up with money for a deposit to get it turned on in my name. I was between checks and had nothing else of value, so I wound up pawning the bridal set he bought me. I HATED parting with that...I've never owned anything else as beautiful. I probably never will.
Trina was awfully possessive. She didn't like it if I spend nights at Jake's. She felt that I had to be at our place all the time. My position was that I paid my bills and kept up my end of the bargain so it didn't matter what I did. It got to the point where she was constantly screaming at me, always angry, so I eventually told her she'd have to find someplace to go because I was going to move in with Jake. It didn't end well...we didn't speak anymore after she moved out. I've searched for her on Facebook and the like but I haven't been able to find her. I wish I could. I'd like to make amends.
I knew Jake was talking about a proposal to my family and friends, but I didn't think he'd ever actually ask me to marry him....until the night he cooked me dinner. He had called Minnie and she told him my favorite foods and how to cook them (except he put garlic salt in the okra, gross). On April 24, 2005, we had a candlelit dinner that he made for me, complete with him playing a different song every two seconds and telling me to listen to the words because it was a metaphor. I'd swear he said the word "metaphor" at least 60 times that night, and I'm not exaggerating. Then he got down on one knee and produced a ring, asking me to become his wife. I cried, I said yes, it was lovely...
At first, anyway. Turns out he sold his tv to buy me the ring from a pawn shop-I still think it's very ugly, not my style at all (and this is a man who makes his living in retail, recognizing people's style). He went the next day and bought himself a big screen tv. The thought process behind that seemed very impulsive and selfish to me. It's not that I'm angry that he didn't spend a lot on a ring, but I would have liked to have a new one and something that was representative of me/our love or whatever since I was supposed to wear it for the rest of my life. I never told him I didn't like it though. He seriously could've gone to JCPenney's and bought me a sapphire for $150 and I'd have been happier, but it didn't work out that way.
We were engaged. That didn't change his habits one bit. I came home on our first anniversary, June 22, 2005, to find that the same messages he had sent to me ("Who loves ya baby?", pictures of himself, etc), he had also sent to another girl he had met in a chat room. I was so incredibly angry..I went and stayed at a friend's house but came back.
Then I missed my period. June 30, 2005 I went to Walmart and bought an EPT pregnancy test. It had a plus sign on it, but the second line was slightly faded. This scared the shit out of me. I flew over to a friend's house (I had been in the delivery room with her only a week before) and said, "Steph, what the fuck is this?" She said, "Oh shit, come in." I took three more pregnancy tests that day, including digital ones, just to make sure I was reading it correctly. I called Jake and urged him to come home as soon as he could. I bought a birthday card (his birthday was the next day) and put the pregnancy test in it, then proceeded to pace anxiously waiting for him to come home. There was almost no reaction. He said he was happy, but he sure as hell never showed it.
I left soon after, but I'll save that for another night. I'll leave off with me finding out I was pregnant. I was scared out of my mind but I was happy. I have always known that I wanted a family, and the thought never EVER went through my head that maybe I shouldn't have the baby. I love my children immensely and am eternally grateful that I have them, that I am honored enough to be their mother. I remember Mom asking, 'So what are you gonna do?" To which I replied, "I'm gonna have a baby." That was the end of that discussion. He turns 5 on Wednesday, and he is a wonderful child. I know most parents feel that way about their children but the chance to have a family and do it right is great for me. I might have given up a lot of my childhood but it's not like I ever had one to begin with. I do not resent my children and never have-I resent their father. Happy early birthday to my baby. :)
Saturday, February 26, 2011
Friday, February 25, 2011
What It Feels Like To Lose Your Mind
First of all I'd like to mention that I'm missing a journal from this time period. I'm not pleased about that at all.
Arizona, take 2. I was 17 years old, married, and branded a loser. I was so determined to make something of myself though, so I moved back in with my parents and got my job back at Burger King. If I had gone to work somewhere else-anywhere else-things might have been different. As I said before though, I wouldn't change things. I am both crazy and a better person because of the things I dealt with.
Management had changed since I had gotten married and moved away. My former boss was gone, replaced by a fellow named Jack. Jack asked around the store about whether or not he wanted to hire me back, which resulted in the day and night managers fighting over who would get me on their shift because I was such a hard worker. I walked into BK for an interview with Jack, and there I met my future husband. I didn't like him. Such a very cocky, arrogant jerk-very full of himself-quite the swaggering peacock. I put on my best southern belle simper regardless in an effort to get the job, and was given the position.
I also applied for and started school at Cochise College. I hadn't finalized my major but I wanted to be an elementary school teacher or a radiation therapist. Maybe someday when I grow up I might still have that chance.
Going to school and college was so much fun and rewarding at the same time. I started losing weight again and had a little bit more freedom given that I had my own car. Nathan and I talked pretty frequently and he kept telling me he wanted to go to marriage counseling and work things out (how I wish I had listened). I was having none of it, being a proud "fully grown woman that could care for herself," as I described myself in my journals. I was stubborn but things were looking up so I thought I had the world at my feet and didn't need a man.
Then came the blowout with Dad. I remember the last time he tried to beat any of us-he tried to put my brother's head through the glass in the stove but the twins attacked him together and held him back. The football practices had paid off-they were bigger and stronger than the tyrant now. I don't recall what led to the "final showdown," but somehow we all decided to confront dad together. Me, the twins, my sister, and Mom sat down and told Dad we weren't having it anymore and told him exactly how we felt. He said that his kids ganged up on him and blamed us for the divorce. He took our van, my brother's dirtbike and the other brother's guitar, as well as our dog, and just left. It was good but scary all at the same time. We lived in fear that he might be coming back...I never saw my dad again after that day. I talked to him one more time by phone-he gave me the only good piece of advice he ever imparted to me during that last conversation. When I told him I was dating Jake (who was 9 years my senior), he said the reason a guy like that is dating someone so young is because nobody his age would have him-they'd already learned their lessons. You were right that time, Daddy. That's the only time I should have ever listened to you.
I intended to write a lot more tonight, but I'm quite inebriated and I can't stop crying. I think I'll call it quits for the night.
Arizona, take 2. I was 17 years old, married, and branded a loser. I was so determined to make something of myself though, so I moved back in with my parents and got my job back at Burger King. If I had gone to work somewhere else-anywhere else-things might have been different. As I said before though, I wouldn't change things. I am both crazy and a better person because of the things I dealt with.
Management had changed since I had gotten married and moved away. My former boss was gone, replaced by a fellow named Jack. Jack asked around the store about whether or not he wanted to hire me back, which resulted in the day and night managers fighting over who would get me on their shift because I was such a hard worker. I walked into BK for an interview with Jack, and there I met my future husband. I didn't like him. Such a very cocky, arrogant jerk-very full of himself-quite the swaggering peacock. I put on my best southern belle simper regardless in an effort to get the job, and was given the position.
I also applied for and started school at Cochise College. I hadn't finalized my major but I wanted to be an elementary school teacher or a radiation therapist. Maybe someday when I grow up I might still have that chance.
Going to school and college was so much fun and rewarding at the same time. I started losing weight again and had a little bit more freedom given that I had my own car. Nathan and I talked pretty frequently and he kept telling me he wanted to go to marriage counseling and work things out (how I wish I had listened). I was having none of it, being a proud "fully grown woman that could care for herself," as I described myself in my journals. I was stubborn but things were looking up so I thought I had the world at my feet and didn't need a man.
Then came the blowout with Dad. I remember the last time he tried to beat any of us-he tried to put my brother's head through the glass in the stove but the twins attacked him together and held him back. The football practices had paid off-they were bigger and stronger than the tyrant now. I don't recall what led to the "final showdown," but somehow we all decided to confront dad together. Me, the twins, my sister, and Mom sat down and told Dad we weren't having it anymore and told him exactly how we felt. He said that his kids ganged up on him and blamed us for the divorce. He took our van, my brother's dirtbike and the other brother's guitar, as well as our dog, and just left. It was good but scary all at the same time. We lived in fear that he might be coming back...I never saw my dad again after that day. I talked to him one more time by phone-he gave me the only good piece of advice he ever imparted to me during that last conversation. When I told him I was dating Jake (who was 9 years my senior), he said the reason a guy like that is dating someone so young is because nobody his age would have him-they'd already learned their lessons. You were right that time, Daddy. That's the only time I should have ever listened to you.
I intended to write a lot more tonight, but I'm quite inebriated and I can't stop crying. I think I'll call it quits for the night.
Sunday, February 20, 2011
Shattered Dreams
I've been avoiding posting again, putting off having to deal with feelings. After last week's abuse went too far, I didn't want to come back here and talk about more things that hurt. I've been pouring all of myself into my job, trying to go further and make something better out of myself so that I may be rid of the asshole once and for all-once I'm no longer financially dependent on him it won't be so much of an issue. And in all reality, I don't rely on him that much-all he does is pay for health insurance out of his check and give me $320 for the mortgage. He's supposed to buy groceries but that never works the way it's intended. I'm not all that far from not needing him at all but then there's the issue of my children being totally enamored of him....And of course he's not leaving. He was throwing that in my face to try to get me to stop being upset, although I still don't understand how he thinks that works. Then I got to play hide the bruises this week...One was on my arm and therefore difficult but I think only one person noticed. Given that there were distinct finger and thumb prints on the bruise it would've been difficult to explain away. I'm not talking about him anymore...not yet anyway. He enters my story very soon.
I believe I left off with my Nathan. It's funny, I still call him "my" Nathan, when he hasn't been mine in years. In fact he recently separated from his second wife. I still love him. I don't think that will ever go away. The pain of it has lessened some over the years at least. I spent the first month and a half in Decatur with him, doing nothing because we had no money or cable or internet. We had movies, books, video games, and each other. Suffice to say that I never went without sexual attention during this time, but I did feel emotionally neglected. He wasn't a talker, he would only cuddle for so long at night before he'd say he was uncomfortable and roll over. Something I haven't mentioned yet that I'm actually slightly embarrassed by-when at Minnie's house I always slept in her bed until I reached the age of 13. It started after my Papaw passed away in second grade and went from there. I was terrified of the dark, terrified of being alone...I still am. When I was at Mom's I had my sister to sleep with so I was okay. Throughout high school I surrounded myself by numerous pillows and stuffed animals. It was also common for my friends to sleep in my bed with me when they came over. When I grew to adulthood and got married it was hard for me because I had to give all that up so that half of my bed could be occupied by a body that wasn't wrapped around mine. I still struggle with this-most nights now I sleep alone, whether it's in my bed or on the couch. If the "husband" does sleep in the same bed as me, he certainly doesn't hold me. I've been looking for that for years and years...someone to hold me and take away the pain. I guess I keep hoping even now that a prince charming will come swoop me up on his white horse and love me and take care of me. Haha, yeah right. I'm learning to be self-sufficient and stand on my own two feet because I know I can't rely on any "man."
So anyway...I got sidetracked. Nathan couldn't sign me into school, and I didn't like the thought of getting a G.E.D....I had worked so very hard, I truly HATED how I graduated. It was humiliating to me. I certainly wasn't the top of my class, but I was in advanced placement classes and was a National Merit scholar or whatever it was called, I had had a poem published, I would have graduated. I hated Minnie and Mom both for taking my senior year from me. I did get the senior pictures, but I didn't get to walk across the stage. I didn't get senior prom (although in all fairness I had been to 3 anyway). I missed my friends, particularly Delaney-we talked at least once a week while I was in Arizona and then spent time together once I had moved back to Tennessee. That's why I went to stay with her when I started going to Center School. I didn't like the place...I was surrounded by people that had dropped out and didn't care and thought I was stupid for trying to do well. I only had to take two courses, so I did my time with the place and got out as soon as I could. I met one or two nice people but I was something of a loner at this time of my life-people brought nothing but pain so why invite them in? I generally went to school in my black bondage pants and black shirt with black eyeliner. My hair was no longer black or purple or blue by this point, but I was still going for the leave-me-the-fuck-alone look, complete with blasting rock music in the car and walking like I had a chip on my shoulder and would punch you if you looked at me.
Staying with Delaney was nice though. Her parents really didn't have any rules, and I just kind of stayed out of their way. I didn't eat much of their food and tried to keep my space clean. I was very grateful that they allowed me to stay there and that they lent me their vehicle. Delaney and I would go on long, random drives, smoking and singing at the top of our lungs in the car...we were pretty good, too. I don't sing in front of people anymore unless I'm with her. At one point we took a day trip to Nashville and spent all day walking around taking pictures with a roll of black-and-white film we had picked up. I still have them, and I think they're beautiful. They totally captured who I was at this point in time. We went to the Hard Rock Cafe and split one of those enormous brownies because we couldn't afford an actual meal. We were also known for making frequent 2 a.m. trips to Waffle House. She'd get her coffee every single time, while I had a Coke and grilled cheese. I always let her pick the music on the jukebox and then we'd giggle about how stupid the song was or it reminded us of a time when.....it was good for me, having the opportunity to stay with her. I'm very close to her and love her still. I wish she was still here but she lives out of state. We're planning a "girls' weekend" in NYC at some point this year though, so here's hoping we get our chance. :)
Then school was over. I graduated as Valedictorian of the dropouts, then had to return to Decatur. I found a job at Hardees in Athens and started making payments to Delaney's parents on an 89 BMW 325-they had just bought her an Acura and gave me the chance to buy her former car. I LOVED that car. I drove it until the rear strut assembly fell out. I hated Decatur just as much as I loved the car though. I felt confined to just that one tiny, crooked trailer with the holes in the floor. I remember being plastered one night and climbing in Nathan's lap and not knowing who he was, then proceeding to tell him all about my husband that didn't love me before I crawled down the hallway to bed. I say crawled because it was nearly impossible to walk down that hall sober-it was crooked and uneven and full of holes. I would occasionally go to the tanning bed with a girl from work, desperately trying to fit in. It's hard to fit in when you're the only one that's 17, married, and doing nothing with your life. I tried anyway, getting burnt so many times (being redheaded means you stay OUT of tanning beds!!), drinking with the in-laws, anything to feel included somehow, somewhere. Eventually it was just too much. Nathan wouldn't move away from his momma, didn't want to get an apartment and have our own space, didn't seem to want to do anything other than stay right there in that hellhole. He damn near chopped his thumb off at work one day and didn't even call me....I came home from work to find his mother waiting for me in the driveway saying "Now don't panic," which makes every newlywed do just that. He would talk to his parents, but not to me. I wrote countless entries in my journal, only to find out later that he was reading them. I had a crush on a guy at work who saw me being so miserable and talked about saving me from it...I didn't actually want anything to do with him but I was so desperate for attention that I'd have taken it from anyone at that point in time. Eventually it came down to my mom wiring me $200 via Western Union so I could go back to Arizona. I went home and threw everything, including my little dog Obsidian, in my car and was pulling out of the driveway when he came home. He put in a feeble effort to stop me...I still feel so bad about leaving him. I had to do it for me though, I was miserable there. I walked away from Nathan (not for the last time) and drove recklessly into the western skyline.
It usually takes about 2 days to go down interstates 40, 30, 20, then 10, to make it from East Tennessee to Sierra Vista. I made it in 26 hours. I sped without a care for anyone or anything in my path, hitting triple digits several times. Somewhere in Texas I had nodded off at the wheel. I woke up with a start, over-corrected, and spun out in the middle of the highway. I am so fortunate that there were no other cars on the road at that point...I thank God for that. The car spun so hard that my dog flew from my lap clear to the back windshield. I was so so scared and shaken. I pulled off at the first gas station I could find and stopped to make sure Obsidian was okay. He was just as scared as I was and crawled back into my lap. I slept there, holding him that way for about 30 minutes. Then I refueled with gas and caffeine and set back out.
If I'd have known what was waiting in Arizona I might have stayed in Decatur. I don't believe in regrets-if I hadn't gone through exactly what I had, I wouldn't be the person I am today. I wouldn't have my children. I won't take it back, because I believe there is a reason for everything, even if it is only put in your path to make you stronger. That's where I'm leaving off tonight.
A side note....I've been doing a lot of reading and most of what I've seen presents reaction to abuse/hurt/whatever in black and white-you either tell everybody you've ever met how you're feeling/what you went through, or you hide it. I realized that lately-in regards to my present situation, not my past-I've been doing a little of both. I feel as if I'm hiding in plain sight, praying that nobody in the outside world can see how I feel, how I hurt, what I am....but I'm also begging for attention. Today I actually said "okay I'm putting this out there so I can actually address this. It really hurts that I sit here depressed, crying, alone all of the time, and you don't have five minutes for me. Then when your mother mentions that she's upset on what was supposed to be our family day you go running, leaving your sick wife and children at home." Not a response, not even a grunt of acknowledgement was received. So why bother?
Then there's Mom. She almost never answers her phone, and when it does get answered it's usually by the person she happens to be with that day. I called last night to ask directions to Childrens Hospital, a family friend answered. Finally got Mom on the phone, she just passed me back to the friend. She texted to check on my son, but then wouldn't answer my call. She didn't answer when I called her this morning or afternoon either even though she knew I was at the Take Care Clinic because I was also sick. She answered my texts, but never my phone calls. She's always too busy for me.
Anyway, those were irrelevant to the post at hand but I needed to vent.
I believe I left off with my Nathan. It's funny, I still call him "my" Nathan, when he hasn't been mine in years. In fact he recently separated from his second wife. I still love him. I don't think that will ever go away. The pain of it has lessened some over the years at least. I spent the first month and a half in Decatur with him, doing nothing because we had no money or cable or internet. We had movies, books, video games, and each other. Suffice to say that I never went without sexual attention during this time, but I did feel emotionally neglected. He wasn't a talker, he would only cuddle for so long at night before he'd say he was uncomfortable and roll over. Something I haven't mentioned yet that I'm actually slightly embarrassed by-when at Minnie's house I always slept in her bed until I reached the age of 13. It started after my Papaw passed away in second grade and went from there. I was terrified of the dark, terrified of being alone...I still am. When I was at Mom's I had my sister to sleep with so I was okay. Throughout high school I surrounded myself by numerous pillows and stuffed animals. It was also common for my friends to sleep in my bed with me when they came over. When I grew to adulthood and got married it was hard for me because I had to give all that up so that half of my bed could be occupied by a body that wasn't wrapped around mine. I still struggle with this-most nights now I sleep alone, whether it's in my bed or on the couch. If the "husband" does sleep in the same bed as me, he certainly doesn't hold me. I've been looking for that for years and years...someone to hold me and take away the pain. I guess I keep hoping even now that a prince charming will come swoop me up on his white horse and love me and take care of me. Haha, yeah right. I'm learning to be self-sufficient and stand on my own two feet because I know I can't rely on any "man."
So anyway...I got sidetracked. Nathan couldn't sign me into school, and I didn't like the thought of getting a G.E.D....I had worked so very hard, I truly HATED how I graduated. It was humiliating to me. I certainly wasn't the top of my class, but I was in advanced placement classes and was a National Merit scholar or whatever it was called, I had had a poem published, I would have graduated. I hated Minnie and Mom both for taking my senior year from me. I did get the senior pictures, but I didn't get to walk across the stage. I didn't get senior prom (although in all fairness I had been to 3 anyway). I missed my friends, particularly Delaney-we talked at least once a week while I was in Arizona and then spent time together once I had moved back to Tennessee. That's why I went to stay with her when I started going to Center School. I didn't like the place...I was surrounded by people that had dropped out and didn't care and thought I was stupid for trying to do well. I only had to take two courses, so I did my time with the place and got out as soon as I could. I met one or two nice people but I was something of a loner at this time of my life-people brought nothing but pain so why invite them in? I generally went to school in my black bondage pants and black shirt with black eyeliner. My hair was no longer black or purple or blue by this point, but I was still going for the leave-me-the-fuck-alone look, complete with blasting rock music in the car and walking like I had a chip on my shoulder and would punch you if you looked at me.
Staying with Delaney was nice though. Her parents really didn't have any rules, and I just kind of stayed out of their way. I didn't eat much of their food and tried to keep my space clean. I was very grateful that they allowed me to stay there and that they lent me their vehicle. Delaney and I would go on long, random drives, smoking and singing at the top of our lungs in the car...we were pretty good, too. I don't sing in front of people anymore unless I'm with her. At one point we took a day trip to Nashville and spent all day walking around taking pictures with a roll of black-and-white film we had picked up. I still have them, and I think they're beautiful. They totally captured who I was at this point in time. We went to the Hard Rock Cafe and split one of those enormous brownies because we couldn't afford an actual meal. We were also known for making frequent 2 a.m. trips to Waffle House. She'd get her coffee every single time, while I had a Coke and grilled cheese. I always let her pick the music on the jukebox and then we'd giggle about how stupid the song was or it reminded us of a time when.....it was good for me, having the opportunity to stay with her. I'm very close to her and love her still. I wish she was still here but she lives out of state. We're planning a "girls' weekend" in NYC at some point this year though, so here's hoping we get our chance. :)
Then school was over. I graduated as Valedictorian of the dropouts, then had to return to Decatur. I found a job at Hardees in Athens and started making payments to Delaney's parents on an 89 BMW 325-they had just bought her an Acura and gave me the chance to buy her former car. I LOVED that car. I drove it until the rear strut assembly fell out. I hated Decatur just as much as I loved the car though. I felt confined to just that one tiny, crooked trailer with the holes in the floor. I remember being plastered one night and climbing in Nathan's lap and not knowing who he was, then proceeding to tell him all about my husband that didn't love me before I crawled down the hallway to bed. I say crawled because it was nearly impossible to walk down that hall sober-it was crooked and uneven and full of holes. I would occasionally go to the tanning bed with a girl from work, desperately trying to fit in. It's hard to fit in when you're the only one that's 17, married, and doing nothing with your life. I tried anyway, getting burnt so many times (being redheaded means you stay OUT of tanning beds!!), drinking with the in-laws, anything to feel included somehow, somewhere. Eventually it was just too much. Nathan wouldn't move away from his momma, didn't want to get an apartment and have our own space, didn't seem to want to do anything other than stay right there in that hellhole. He damn near chopped his thumb off at work one day and didn't even call me....I came home from work to find his mother waiting for me in the driveway saying "Now don't panic," which makes every newlywed do just that. He would talk to his parents, but not to me. I wrote countless entries in my journal, only to find out later that he was reading them. I had a crush on a guy at work who saw me being so miserable and talked about saving me from it...I didn't actually want anything to do with him but I was so desperate for attention that I'd have taken it from anyone at that point in time. Eventually it came down to my mom wiring me $200 via Western Union so I could go back to Arizona. I went home and threw everything, including my little dog Obsidian, in my car and was pulling out of the driveway when he came home. He put in a feeble effort to stop me...I still feel so bad about leaving him. I had to do it for me though, I was miserable there. I walked away from Nathan (not for the last time) and drove recklessly into the western skyline.
It usually takes about 2 days to go down interstates 40, 30, 20, then 10, to make it from East Tennessee to Sierra Vista. I made it in 26 hours. I sped without a care for anyone or anything in my path, hitting triple digits several times. Somewhere in Texas I had nodded off at the wheel. I woke up with a start, over-corrected, and spun out in the middle of the highway. I am so fortunate that there were no other cars on the road at that point...I thank God for that. The car spun so hard that my dog flew from my lap clear to the back windshield. I was so so scared and shaken. I pulled off at the first gas station I could find and stopped to make sure Obsidian was okay. He was just as scared as I was and crawled back into my lap. I slept there, holding him that way for about 30 minutes. Then I refueled with gas and caffeine and set back out.
If I'd have known what was waiting in Arizona I might have stayed in Decatur. I don't believe in regrets-if I hadn't gone through exactly what I had, I wouldn't be the person I am today. I wouldn't have my children. I won't take it back, because I believe there is a reason for everything, even if it is only put in your path to make you stronger. That's where I'm leaving off tonight.
A side note....I've been doing a lot of reading and most of what I've seen presents reaction to abuse/hurt/whatever in black and white-you either tell everybody you've ever met how you're feeling/what you went through, or you hide it. I realized that lately-in regards to my present situation, not my past-I've been doing a little of both. I feel as if I'm hiding in plain sight, praying that nobody in the outside world can see how I feel, how I hurt, what I am....but I'm also begging for attention. Today I actually said "okay I'm putting this out there so I can actually address this. It really hurts that I sit here depressed, crying, alone all of the time, and you don't have five minutes for me. Then when your mother mentions that she's upset on what was supposed to be our family day you go running, leaving your sick wife and children at home." Not a response, not even a grunt of acknowledgement was received. So why bother?
Then there's Mom. She almost never answers her phone, and when it does get answered it's usually by the person she happens to be with that day. I called last night to ask directions to Childrens Hospital, a family friend answered. Finally got Mom on the phone, she just passed me back to the friend. She texted to check on my son, but then wouldn't answer my call. She didn't answer when I called her this morning or afternoon either even though she knew I was at the Take Care Clinic because I was also sick. She answered my texts, but never my phone calls. She's always too busy for me.
Anyway, those were irrelevant to the post at hand but I needed to vent.
Sunday, February 13, 2011
HGFD(#R@*RKBHJCIUFY&BIBWB QCXKUIW
I'm truly glad this blog is completed using an alias, because I believe I've been compromised. That makes it risky to write this next entry, because this is from the present, not my past. I run that risk tonight hoping that anyone reading this will know that it is for the sake of me getting better and nothing else, but unfortunately there are those that thrive on using other peoples' pain to advance their own purposes. So please, if you've discovered this by accident, keep it a secret. This is painful enough for me to write but it would be even worse to have it broadcast to people that are acquaintances, but are also self-made judges and juries. Don't judge me folks. This is my personal hell, and it hurts.
Just......GAH. Words cannot express my anger or hurt right now. To be so betrayed by someone you love and care for...again and again and again....and yet keep coming back for more abuse. Tonight it was physical.... choke hold with one arm, beating the upper back with the other....granted, it was immediately following a suicide attempt on my part which was wholly stupid and I stopped myself before it went any further, but that does not provide an excuse to beat a dog when it's down. And I'm not a weak person-it just so happens that I've spent the last several hours throwing everything in my stomach right back up. I smacked him, and I'm sorry that I did, but damn if it didn't feel GOOD. All of this over secrets, lies, and a double life. We both lead one, but he calls me delusional, paranoid, and crazy. And hell, maybe I am. But tonight....tonight went further than it ever should have. The sad part is the divorce was nearing its final stages when he smooth-talked his way back in, mainly using the children. (They didn't see any of this, we do not fight in front of the boys). They're my reason for living. They keep me sane. Him? He drags me down. Calls me fat, ugly, stupid, lazy. Maybe so, but that's no way to treat your spouse. He doesn't know the first thing about respect, so why should I expect him to behave in such a manner? He finally admitted he did wrong, I went off about it, and he turned it around on me. Says I'm my mother all over again, that I'm just like her. That hurts more than any other insult he could ever throw at me. He brings up my dad, foster care, my past...Tonight, I'm sorry that I ever let him in. I found myself sitting at the end of my driveway in tears, offering up prayers to someone that I have to believe is listening, afraid to doubt, needing to know there is some reason behind all of this insanity.
I want out. I can't stand on my own financially. He won't fucking bend either. Maybe tomorrow, maybe the next day, he'll just start talking to me again, like it never happened, and we'll go along leading a lie. He promised me marriage counseling. He has promised me such at least twice a week for the last few months. Then he tells me that there's something wrong with me, that I have to work on my trust issues and my personal crazy before our marriage could ever work. Isn't that what I've been trying to do??? Get better? Be a better mom, a better wife, a better me?? All he does is knock me down.
I don't like how things have ended up. I don't like it when I'm retaliating, telling him how worthless he is. I become the very same person that I hate, and I don't like how that feels. None of it makes sense. So he's leaving me. Because I found out what he's doing on the side, *he's* leaving *me* yet again. Go figure. Then he'll go, screw everything he sees and get high off his ass, then start crying and missing me, wanting me back. There used to be so much good in our marriage, so much passion and even a few common interests. How did it come to this? When did his need for attention from his 14-year-old customers become greater than his need for me?
I'm ashamed. I don't wear my ring-first of all, it's a fake I bought at a flea market because he wouldn't buy me a replacement. Secondly, I'm ashamed to be with a man that holds so much animosity for me. I'm ashamed that I begged him tonight, pleaded with him not to go, to sit and talk to me and try to find a solution so it didn't have to come to this, to shield the kids from this kind of crap. As I write he is in his car sleeping like the drama queen he is. Well, technically it's my car, I own it, my name's on the title blahblahblah...it was given to him by Minnie-GIVEN to him-yet he constantly complains that he doesn't have a new car. Maybe he should think about working harder and getting one with a car payment. I'm paying my own.
My entire 6 (almost 7) year history with this man was thrown at me tonight. I despise him more and more each day.
Sorry. This might not be the place for this but I had to vent somewhere and I sure as hell don't have anyone to talk to here. Also, my back is burning from him pounding on it....I know the slap across the cheek didn't do nearly as much damage but it was briefly satisfying nonetheless, although it never should have happened. I did apologize for it but there was no forgiveness. This happened because he was trying to physically push me, but it still doesn't make it right.
Who am I? What have I become? I keep hoping that maybe it will all work out okay, he'll leave peacefully and pay for the divorce himself when some new trollop comes along and doesn't want anything to do with our children.
Happy Valentines Day. Guess I'm spending it technically single-or so I'm told. Woo fucking hoo.
Sorry again.
Just......GAH. Words cannot express my anger or hurt right now. To be so betrayed by someone you love and care for...again and again and again....and yet keep coming back for more abuse. Tonight it was physical.... choke hold with one arm, beating the upper back with the other....granted, it was immediately following a suicide attempt on my part which was wholly stupid and I stopped myself before it went any further, but that does not provide an excuse to beat a dog when it's down. And I'm not a weak person-it just so happens that I've spent the last several hours throwing everything in my stomach right back up. I smacked him, and I'm sorry that I did, but damn if it didn't feel GOOD. All of this over secrets, lies, and a double life. We both lead one, but he calls me delusional, paranoid, and crazy. And hell, maybe I am. But tonight....tonight went further than it ever should have. The sad part is the divorce was nearing its final stages when he smooth-talked his way back in, mainly using the children. (They didn't see any of this, we do not fight in front of the boys). They're my reason for living. They keep me sane. Him? He drags me down. Calls me fat, ugly, stupid, lazy. Maybe so, but that's no way to treat your spouse. He doesn't know the first thing about respect, so why should I expect him to behave in such a manner? He finally admitted he did wrong, I went off about it, and he turned it around on me. Says I'm my mother all over again, that I'm just like her. That hurts more than any other insult he could ever throw at me. He brings up my dad, foster care, my past...Tonight, I'm sorry that I ever let him in. I found myself sitting at the end of my driveway in tears, offering up prayers to someone that I have to believe is listening, afraid to doubt, needing to know there is some reason behind all of this insanity.
I want out. I can't stand on my own financially. He won't fucking bend either. Maybe tomorrow, maybe the next day, he'll just start talking to me again, like it never happened, and we'll go along leading a lie. He promised me marriage counseling. He has promised me such at least twice a week for the last few months. Then he tells me that there's something wrong with me, that I have to work on my trust issues and my personal crazy before our marriage could ever work. Isn't that what I've been trying to do??? Get better? Be a better mom, a better wife, a better me?? All he does is knock me down.
I don't like how things have ended up. I don't like it when I'm retaliating, telling him how worthless he is. I become the very same person that I hate, and I don't like how that feels. None of it makes sense. So he's leaving me. Because I found out what he's doing on the side, *he's* leaving *me* yet again. Go figure. Then he'll go, screw everything he sees and get high off his ass, then start crying and missing me, wanting me back. There used to be so much good in our marriage, so much passion and even a few common interests. How did it come to this? When did his need for attention from his 14-year-old customers become greater than his need for me?
I'm ashamed. I don't wear my ring-first of all, it's a fake I bought at a flea market because he wouldn't buy me a replacement. Secondly, I'm ashamed to be with a man that holds so much animosity for me. I'm ashamed that I begged him tonight, pleaded with him not to go, to sit and talk to me and try to find a solution so it didn't have to come to this, to shield the kids from this kind of crap. As I write he is in his car sleeping like the drama queen he is. Well, technically it's my car, I own it, my name's on the title blahblahblah...it was given to him by Minnie-GIVEN to him-yet he constantly complains that he doesn't have a new car. Maybe he should think about working harder and getting one with a car payment. I'm paying my own.
My entire 6 (almost 7) year history with this man was thrown at me tonight. I despise him more and more each day.
Sorry. This might not be the place for this but I had to vent somewhere and I sure as hell don't have anyone to talk to here. Also, my back is burning from him pounding on it....I know the slap across the cheek didn't do nearly as much damage but it was briefly satisfying nonetheless, although it never should have happened. I did apologize for it but there was no forgiveness. This happened because he was trying to physically push me, but it still doesn't make it right.
Who am I? What have I become? I keep hoping that maybe it will all work out okay, he'll leave peacefully and pay for the divorce himself when some new trollop comes along and doesn't want anything to do with our children.
Happy Valentines Day. Guess I'm spending it technically single-or so I'm told. Woo fucking hoo.
Sorry again.
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