Tuesday, March 11, 2008

what if I just died?

My kids wouldn't miss me. They would be happy.

They hate me.

What if I just took a bunch of pills, or slit my wrists, or crashed my car on purpose?

Their lives would not be worse. Their lives would be better.

I love them so much. They don't care. They just think my soul purpose is to make their lives miserable.

What a great fucking time I picked to try to be a strong, independant woman.

My mom wants me to succeed. I want me to succeed. My friends want me to succeed.

My kids want me out of the picture.

Tuesday, February 12, 2008

The biggie...

I've been married twice... and divorced twice.

My first marriage was when I was 18. I was in the air force and "fell in love" with someone while I was in tech school. I was in tech school for 3 whole months, and the person I "fell in love" with wasn't there the whole time I was. But, surely it was love.

I married him and we had a baby. Turns out this guy was a bigger baby than the one we had, and couldn't deal with crying at all hours of the night, or being left alone with the baby. I left the guy when my son was 2 months old because he kept making violent threats, and I wasn't about to hang around and see if he followed through with them.

Less than a year later I met another guy and got pregnant. We got married, and things were actually pretty good for a while. Eventually I became pretty uninterested in sex, so we decided to go to counseling. Of course, he was in the Army and left for Korea for a year after our first counseling visit... so it was basically doomed. Of course, counseling brought out my molestation, and I worked on that for a while... but when my husband returned from Korea it only lasted a few months before we decided we would be better off as friends. I'm still in touch with him, he is still the person both of my kids call "Dad". He's a good person, and I still keep in touch with his parents even. It's a good situation, I just wish my kids could see him more (it's been over 5 years).

After that divorce I played the field a little bit, until I met relationship dude #3. We hit it off very well. He was in the Air Force. He had also been married and divorced twice. Actually, when I met him he was still going through a separation from his 2nd wife. But he moved out and I wasn't concerned or threatened by this at all.

He was a great guy. After a year he was being stationed elsewhere, and we decided I should go with him. So, I uprooted my kids, quit my job, and away I went to begin a new life with this great guy!

We went through a LOT. Soon after arriving September 11th happened. Being in the military, he was off to foreign lands. Me being just a civilian... not a military dependent, I was left behind to make friends, get my kids enrolled in school, and put my new life together. Without him, but also with him. It sucked.

Thanksgiving weekend my apartment burned down. It was horrible anyway, but it didn't help that everything was in his name, so I couldn't switch the phones or electricity or anything to the new apartment they placed us in. Since I wasn't his dependent... wasn't his wife, it was nearly impossible to get in touch with him. It sucked.

Somehow I was finally able to get in touch with him and let him know what happened. In the mean time I had to find new furniture, clothes, and make things as normal as possible for my 2 kids and I. They flew him home in time for us to move everything out of the old apartment (everything that was salvageable).

We had a pretty good Christmas that year. He was home from this scary war, and we really learned how wonderful people can be with all the donations we got after the fire.

In April of 2002 we went on our first vacation together. It was really fun! We drove to Tennessee, where his family was. They met my boys for the first time. Then we drove out to Colorado to see my family. We left the boys with my mom one night, and he surprised me with a wonderful room at a bed and breakfast. It's something that I will never forget in my life. After that we all went to the Grand Canyon. It was really a fantastic family vacation.

That summer was crazy for us. I headed back to Colorado for a month, just for visiting, in June. Part of the visit was for my kids to visit with their dad and his family in Michigan, so there was a nice little road trip to meet them half way.

After that was all over and we were back in California, My boyfriend had to leave for most of the rest of the summer. The Air Force sent him to some classes in Mississippi. While there he met a girl who he got pretty close to. Close enough to take pictures with her on his lap. Close enough to take out to dinner. Close enough to keep in touch with after he left, and I read emails from her that talked about me being a "not so serious/serious girlfriend". Me. The person who waited for him while he went off to war. The person who moved across the country with him. The girl he wanted to introduce to his grandfather before he died. The girl whose kids he considers his own, and he wants to help raise. But, I'm the not so serious/serious girlfriend.

That was a bit of a blow.

Then, it was like living with my step-dad all over again. He got pissed off at me. He didn't turn it around and say things like you might expect... like if I was taking care of things at home... if I was a better lover... blah blah. He just acted pissed off at me. One day I had to get a root canal, and it was while he was in this pissed off phase. That was seriously the worst day of my entire life. I was in horrible pain, and had no one to take care of me. In fact, just the opposite. While I was in the chair getting drilled on I had to wonder what the hell I had done for him to be pissed off at me??????? I cried the whole time in the chair, partly because of the pain, partly because of my situation.

Things were never the same between us after that. No matter how many times he told me he wanted me to just be myself I always wondered "if that is true then why did he need to be with someone else?" He didn't cheat sexually. Or, so he says.
After that I just noticed little things that he did like my dad all...the... time. I had to walk on eggshells around him, too. Things always had to be the way he wanted them to. He would say he wanted my opinion and input, but when I would give it I was made to feel wrong.

My kids went to a year-round school. My boyfriend and I basically decided that I should just stay home, or find some job where I would only be working while they were in school, because it didn't make sense to pay for daycare. Anytime I had any inkling of going back to work, he would be supportive... but only under certain conditions.

I eventually pulled the kids out of school. Partly because I didn't like the schools, and partly because I thought home-schooling would give me something to do. I liked being with my kids, but I didn't really like home-schooling.

A few years later I wanted to put the kids back in school and go back to work. I had actually mentioned this many times throughout the years, but it was always met with resistance. I always needed to have everything planned out... I couldn't just mention that I wanted to go back to work. That just made him come up with all kinds of questions and reasons for me not to. Ultimately I don't really see how it would have affected him at all, since he would be at work also.

It finally got to the point where he sort of gave in to me, but when I took action he got pissed. I was ready to leave at this point.

Why did he just need me to be home, and the kids to be home? Why couldn't we have our own fucking lives? Why couldn't the boys have friends over at the house? Seriously? At the end of our relationship the boys had some friends over outside, and my boyfriend was furious.

So... I did finally end up leaving. I just couldn't be controlled anymore. I couldn't have my kids controlled anymore. He was hurt, and I couldn't hurt him anymore. I couldn't feel like everything I said or did was wrong anymore. I tried and tried to do things his way.... he didn't want that. I tried to do things my way... he said he wanted that, but didn't really... I tried talking and saying what was on my mind... I was wrong. I tried keeping things in.... I was wrong.

He never wanted to marry me during the good times. When things were good he looked elsewhere. What I thought was so good wasn't good enough. It was never good enough for him. I always wanted to marry him. He never wanted to marry me, even if he said he did.

Sorry... he fucked it up. He had everything... a good woman waiting at home, good boys who loved him. He fucked it up. He had to go out with that chick in Mississippi. When things were good. And I was trying to figure out why the whole rest of the time. If it was so good, and things were so great, why did he have to do that?

I just should have left then. If things weren't good enough when they were the best, what hope did we ever really have?


Saturday, February 2, 2008

How I got here...

So, here I am... 34, single, mother to teenage boys.

The whole truth for everyone to know is this......

I think I was a pretty happy girl. My mom loved me, and still loves me to this day, and I love her. I don't know what I'd do without her. I also had fabulous grandparents that spoiled me rotten and thought the world of me. The feeling was mutual. I grew up near them, and was very close to them, and devestated by their deaths when I was an adult.

I've never known my biological father. I know his name, and that is all. I'm not sure if I want to find him.

When I was still a baby my mom married my step-father, who is a big source of problems that I have.

I also have a half brother who is younger than me.

Growing up, my father never physically abused me (other than spanking, but I don't really feel that counts...). Verbally and emotionally was a completely different story. Basically, anything bad that happened to me was my fault.

2 examples...

When I was 5 or 6 my older step-brother molested me. I can remember my mom and grandma asking me about this one day, but I simply felt very ashamed and had no interest in talking about it. I never saw a therapist or anything, and I can recall a couple of years later my dad being pretty pissed at me about the event.

Next... one day I was playing ping-pong with my half brother in my grandparents basement. I have no idea why (I'm sure I provoked it somehow), but he threw his paddle at me, and it hit my face... hard. I was crying (I was still a child), and again my dad got pissed about this.

My mom finally couldn't take any more of my dads moodiness and crap after 26 years. By then he had had at least one nervous breakdown and been on several anti-depressants (which he would take himself off of the minute he felt better).

Between the molestation and walking on egg shells my entire goddamn life to try to keep my dad from blowing his top, I have now been married and divorced twice, and just ended a third relationship that lasted about 7 1/2 years. It was actually closer to a marriage than either one of the marriages, but the guy was too scared to jump all the way in. So, here I am.

That's probably enough for this post. I'll try to post something about my relationship next.


Thursday, January 31, 2008

First post

Here it is, the first post of the blog. Part of me wants to type and type, and part of me wants to wait until I have more of a readership so that I know I'm heard by someone.

We'll see what happens.

I have another blog, but it's pretty upbeat. I'm sure this one will have upbeat moments, but I plan to be pretty "real" in this blog. I'm the single mother of 2 teenage boys and have just gotten out of a 7 year relationship and moved across the country. Things can suck pretty bad at times, and I have to get that out somewhere.

This is my place to say how it really is.