Oh man...

Where do I start? I guess from the beginning. This is gonna take some time, but surprisingly I think I'm ready. So...here goes?

I'm gonna start at 17. I battled depression and self loathing for some time before, but this is when things truly started to turn around. By turn around I mean I was up shit creek without a paddle and a lot of lessons to learn, but my destiny was finally in my own hands. I'm gonna be 100% open here so you may wanna rethink reading through. 17 years old. Moved out of my parents. In with my brother. I partied like no other. Be still my broken heart, my best friend Jew-fro was still there (please don't be offended by that nickname. Kid isn't even Jewish he just had stereotypical hair) He faced his own battles but loved me so much he stuck around for mine. The truth about friends zones? They were created to keep saviors at bay when we women don't feel worthy of ourselves. The truth about knights in shining armor? They're bleeding hearts looking to save the world they see behind the eyes of a broken girl. Anywho, already I digress. 17 I took a turn for the worst. Parties every night, terrible decisions, promiscuity. I've told you all this part before. I let men use me in ways I shouldn't have. But if I had a warm body next to me I wasn't alone on the bathroom floor. I didn't have to face myself in the mirror. All that hurt and anger from years of abuse, neglect and tears. I drowned it out with alcohol and faces I can't remember. Oddly, the names are still there. I knew it was a bad road. Jew-fro tried to save me over and over. I wasn't ready. Boo tried too and then distanced herself because she couldn't handle it anymore. I don't blame her. She was doing what she needed to make sure she stayed healthy. If only I had been so wise as a teenager. She doesn't know it to this day but her parting words snapped me back to reality. She said you're gonna end up dead in a gutter. Nobody will even know who you are anymore. Ouchies. But she was right. And so I turned my attention elsewhere. Introducing (drum roll please) my ex-husband. The first thing I noticed was his laugh. The second was his incessant chatter. Now, here was a safe distraction from that pesky mirror. But it wasn't safe. I fell in love with the brokenness behind his eyes. And of course, I've shared the rest. Thought maybe if I could save him I had a chance at saving myself. Turned into a selfish perfectionist that wasn't happy with anything. He wasn't ready either. We imploded on each other. His parting words stuck too. "You never loved me for me, you loved me for the man you thought I could be." Ouchies. But he was right. Of course, now we consider each other friends for our kiddo. And we learned a lot of lessons from each other. But I've noticed his laugh isn't quite so entrancing and that chatter becomes a dull roar quickly. I don't want to lose myself in anyone. Not now, not ever. The very things that first attracted me to him now grate my nerves. Not his fault, so I bite my tongue these days. During that time I also met No. Great unrequited love that we all must have at least once in this lifetime. His demons drowned out my own. Flames so fierce it would set your heart afire. And it did. But loving him meant seeing a reflection of me I wasn't ready for. After that was the greatest mistake of my life. As Ollivander Wood once said "great things — terrible, yes, but great." So, in the essence of that quote Country Boy has been renamed Voldemort. Fitting. Quite so. I lost myself in his wild abandon. His recklessness. And I saw the signs, the red flags, but I didn't care. I let him control me. Of course at first it didn't seem that way. But deep down I knew. And there began my journey. Self healing. Growth. My first blog. Took me quite a while to get there. I started it when I began sleeping on the couch. I knew something wasn't right. Inside of me was something waking up that I had thought long buried. My hopes. My dreams. My heart. In its purest form. Aching and bruised, beaten to a pulp over the years. Not just by others. By my own decisions and neglect too. I had to get out. I had to shelter her. Nurture her. Let her grow. She was ready. She came out of nowhere and in the blink of an eye everything changed. She couldn't be controlled. Couldn't handle being manipulated anymore. At the time I had no idea the reasons, I just knew I needed out of there. But something more came with her. A price I had to pay. In awakening my hopes and dreams my demons sprang from the shallow graves where they were buried. In awakening my demons who should come about other than the very No my demons used to play with. And I still wasn't ready. But the journey had begun. There was no turning back now. So I left that controlling relationship but I was still bound there. Had nowhere to go. And I let my demons out to play, further damaging my already fragile heart. In the end I shattered. No disappeared as I knew he would (thanks for that, seriously) and Voldemort broke when he realized he had lost control. I wound up on my ex-husband's floor completely broken and waiting for none other than my mother. Woman I had sworn I would never depend on. Swore I'd never let in. I knew my demons all too well and where she was concerned I had always hid behind anger. But that night I was too broken to care. And as mothers do she set aside her own broken heart to rescue her daughter. Unconditional love. Something I had never understood, but that night I began to. Step two. Or three. Or four. Or whatever. I still couldn't face the stranger in the mirror. Full of grief and despair I quickly lost the hope I had just so recently found. I locked myself away from the world. But, then, a miracle. I was numb for a bit but then I started to feel. Real feelings too. There was grief, there was despair, but there was also a budding recognition. I was free. I was safe. For the first time in my life, locked away in that tiny apartment with just my son and mother, I was safe. They didn't judge me for the tears. They didn't ask questions when I acted crazy. They were just there. Called me out on my bullshit, for sure. Yet still they were there. Waiting for me to get better. Holding me accountable while loving me still And in the midst of it all her and I even began to grow closer. We had to hash out a few things first, but I had a new understanding. She made mistakes but she never stopped loving me. She tried. She loved me as her daughter even when she couldn't love herself. I knew that struggle. And for the first time ever, she gave me hope. If she could make it through the horrors of our past so could I. For a while I lost myself in that safety too. I needed it. I needed that shield from the world. And honestly I probably could have stayed there forever. I worked on projects to give myself a sense of purpose. I painted and sang and began to enjoy life from the safety of my little hideaway. Boo came back. She's always been so wise beyond her years. Told me I couldn't lock myself away forever. She literally dragged me out of the house. The sunshine hit my face and Holy Hell it felt wonderful. So maybe I could do this. Maybe I could reenter the world and still work on getting better. I was terrified. But I knew I had to start somewhere. I dated a crazy man. Recovering addict that wasn't so recovered and full of anger. I dated Bread. I actually really liked him, poor thing. He was a sweetheart but way too immature and part of me knew that. The fixer in me, at it again. His priorities were all kinds of screwed and no matter how much I adored him we were walking two completely different paths. I was searching for myself in all these people when deep down I think I always knew it wouldn't work. A few steps back, but still a momentum to move forward. With each failure was a lesson learned rather than a reason to hate myself more. That was huge. I found a new job. I created tentative friendships that would end up playing a part in the bigger picture (didn't know it at the time though). And then one day on the way home I rediscovered a hidden treasure. Bernheim Forest. I spent hours walking the trails, exploring, soul searching. To this day I feel like there are little bits of me spread all through there. I grow with the forest. It is still my favorite place I've visited on this earth. I started to feel better. I took up singing again, invested time in myself, became closer with my kiddo. Throughout all the mistakes I somehow managed to keep growinh. With each failed endeavour I learned something more. It was a new outlook. A new perspective. I was no longer this broken girl, I had hope and a future. In the midst of my self growth high I thought I was ready for another relationship. I don't even know what to call him anymore. So we're just not gonna say. Oh, but buddy, was I wrong. He was fake from the start. My life had taken on this fairytale sheen with all the happy feelings that come from growth but not accepting the full picture. And he played that to his full advantage. You all know the story. Or maybe you don't but I'm definitely not getting into it here. He played me for the fool I was. But even then I was blessed to a degree. My baby boy is still a joy, even if loving him means dealing with his father. But I'm getting ahead of myself here. When the fairytale good vibes fell apart I hit an all time low. I lost sight of my journey because of fear and anger. I went back to Voldemort. Oh, what a nightmare. It didn't take me long to realize the mistake I had made. He was even more controlling, more manipulative. He had lost control once and he was determined not to lose it again so he continuously tightened his grip. Except this time I saw it for what it was. Took me a minute, but throughout this journey I had slowly started to see myself in the mirror. I rallied those tentative friendships around me that had shown themselves to be true. And finally I broke free. Never again, I said. Never again. It was the final straw. I took off the rose colored glasses and saw the world. I saw myself and the mess I had made of my life. The mess I was turning into again. But, wait, there's more. I drug a poor kid into my self destruction. I knew he was no match for my demons. He was too young, too whole. And of course he tried to save me. He tried to hold on for dear life through this life of mine that was more like a roller coaster. I saw it though. I will always feel bad for hurting him, but I knew we would never work and I wasn't willing to continue going down that road. And that's when I knew. Over the course of the next few weeks I spent a lot of time by myself and surrounded by friends that weren't afraid to make me look in the mirror. I was open and honest for once. I was able to breath. No more hiding. No more hating myself. I finally began to accept myself for who I was, what I had been through and the decisions I had made thus far. I bared my soul for the world, knowing that at times it would hurt. But also knowing that if I couldn't deal with the occasional hurt I would forever suffer. I'll take a little pain (though at times its felt unbearable) for those moments of true happiness just around the corner. I still struggle a lot. I get lost or backtrack. I start to ignore the mirror. I get depressed, though not near as much as I used to. There are good days and bad. But now I know myself better. I know what to look for and I've learned enough through my experiences to most times at least be alright. I'm proud of my progress. It took a whole frickin lot to get here. It takes a lot to stay here and continue to learn. But every day I grow. I can look in the mirror. I see myself and I don't hate the reflection. My perspective has changed these past few years. It's no longer self hate or hiding in fear. It's understanding that there will be good and there will be bad. It's acknowledging my mistakes, learning from them and trudging forward. It's falling down but being open enough to let others help me back up (when needed). It's not being afraid of the hurt or letting others down or being too afraid of someone else walking away. It's accepting that we're all on our own journeys, being there to help others on theirs but being strong enough to step back and say no if it starts to pull me off mine. I am the owner of my happiness. I create it in my heart. And when I get down that's what I have to remember. I'm lucky enough to have people around I can ask for that reminder. It took a lot of hurt and lessons learned to figure out who they are. It isn't about being strong. It's about balance. Being open to being vulnerable, because that's how we learn from others. Being open to possible hurt or disappointment, because if the door is closed love can't get in either. Being open and honest even when it's hard, because if not you'll die a thousand deaths from unspoken words. Being open and accepting towards others emotions, because they're on their own journey too and it's not always what's happening on the surface that matters. That one is my biggest struggles these days. I see others emotions and I've studied so much and worked so hard I can usually see where those emotions are coming from (not always, and I'm not afraid to admit that I'm sometimes wrong) but it makes me want to fix their hurt. I can't though. I'll just join them in their misery. Just like nobody could save me until I was ready to save myself. It's a battle we each have to fight for ourselves. All we can do is be there for each other. Openly, honestly, and without trying to force change for someone else's journey. And that last sentence I think it's why I was Inwood to right this. I needed to remember those words...another lesson learned (or re-learned; )

Today

In the past half hour I've wasted about 9% of my battery prolonging actually beginning this. Today though, I chatted with someone I knew long ago and not only was I greatly blessed -I was also rather enlightened and inspired. You see, normally a day like today would have completely drained me. It would have left me feeling inadequate, overwhelmed, and probably more than slightly crazed. But not today. I don't know if it is indeed the solar eclipse, or maybe it was just God's way of answering prayers. Or maybe both of those are one in the same. Regardless, the effect has been greatly felt. For today I know the effect I have on others and I am inspired to let that bring out the true me. The me that often hides behind worry, fear, and a feeling of inadequacy. The me that often smiles without the light touching my eyes. Today was chaos in its purest form. The baby didn't sleep last night, which means neither did I. No nap, 7 months pregnant, chasing an 18 month old and trying to accomplish several tasks all in one day. But you know what? Recently I haven't laughed more, felt more, had my heart so overflowing as I did today. I felt more like myself than ever. I've forgotten so much how much I absolutely adore being home with my babies. And the dirty dishes are still in the sink from dinner, the laundry has reached an alarming amount, the toys are still scattered about the living room floor. Our rooms are messes, my bathroom sink is dirty. The wardrobe was not indeed moved upstairs. But you know what? I don't care. And days like today are absolutely beautiful. Most of you know that having bipolar 2 and an odd form of OCD are part of my every day life. On top of being mother, wife, and jack-of-all-trades. Even earlier I was talking to my sister and asked "was there always this much to do? How did I do it all AND work?!" I thought for a moment I had lost my superwoman mojo. But I didn't. I regained it. My house is a wreck and I'm still happy. Still overflowing with joy. To me this is one of the biggest triumphs, a true reason to rejoice. Today, and maybe not tomorrow but definitely today, I have overcome. I have touched hearts and allowed mine to be open to being touched by others. I have not melted down into a cesspool of despair. I am not crawling all over because there is a speck of dirt. No, today I am wholly myself and full of love and victory. I laughed with my children. Danced in the living room. Kicked that giant red bouncy ball a thousand and one times. Sang silly songs. Taught life lessons (or at least tried to). Reconnected with people that seem from another lifetime that I didn't even realized I missed until they reached out. Today I lived. I played in the sunshine, encouraged exploring the unknown, soaked up the proud moments of learning a new "trick" on the bike that still has training wheels (this is apparently a huge thing to a kindergartener). I've listened to babbling stories, and even just incoherent babbling with the greatest of attention. Still managed to cook dinner while dancing over the toys scattered over the kitchen floor. I have embraced every moment of the chaos. I have kissed my husband in the few moments we could spare, longed for his embrace with an essence exhaustion often times places on the back burner. I have craved him as my friend and the amazing man he is. I have admired as he came home from a long day at work to immediately and JOYFULLY jump into the chaos running rampant through our home. And I have never been more proud. I have never been more full of love. For the way he looks at me when he thinks I'm preoccupied, or the joy across my children's faces at spending so much time with me, for the minor victories of the day that are actually quite great. I'm full of it all. And I feel great. Exhausted, yes I am. But feeling great never the less. And I am praying I can continue to dine through tomorrow. Maybe even the day after. The stress is still there, the fears and worries. Yet somehow today love has overpowered the fog that rolls in with them and allowed me to feel joy. This is the universes magic. This is what we call a miracle.

An open letter to my baby boy's other mom...

There's this side of me that prays you one day read this with an open heart...sadly, I know you probably won't. But I'm going to write it anyways. I'd like to start it at the beginning. The day we met. I tumbled into my doctors office in a fit of giggles with a friend. Two women you had never met. One of those women obviously pregnant with your boyfriends unborn child. I had no idea you'd be there. And at first a white hot flash of anger went through me. How dare that coward bring another woman to my appointment? For my baby? But as the appointment progressed I only felt pity for you. He didn't even have the balls to introduce you. And looking back sometimes I feel like I should have introduced myself. But pride stood in the way. I refused to offer my hand to a woman linked to a boy I despised. To this day he is a coward in my eyes. And out of respect for your relationship with him I will probably never divulge my reasons for that. Oh, but I'm sure he's told you absolutely everything about how bad I was to him. I have no doubt really. He pulled the same wool over my eyes about the woman before me. A woman he is now again "friends with". I could hardly imagine him being friends with someone who put him through what he says she did. So there I sat, pretending like you didn't exist. Knowing in my head and heart the battle that would surely ensue but praying all the while it didn't. I never introduced myself to you that day. I pitied you though. At the time. Even went as far as messaging him telling him it was pathetic he couldn't even introduce the girl he brought to my prenatal appointment for our son. And I was worried. You were so young. How could this all work? Were you mature enough to handle the situation when he so obviously wasn't? Were you already against me with every fiber of your being? Could we all get along for the sake of my son? And there is the ugly truth. The beginning of your resenting my very existence. Your now husband had a child by me. Instantly, I became the worst. So now here we are over a year later and you can't even stand to see my face. It's written plainly across your features any time we cross paths. I'm the terrible one. The one that's made your life so hard. If I just didn't exist things would be so much simpler. If I was more of this or less of that, it would be so much easier. But hear me. I don't hate you. I dislike the side of you I've seen but I know there has to be more to you than that. I know, because of my son. I know because of the way he smiles at you. The way he let's you hold him in your arms. And I will not lie. Any time I see you with him there is a flash of white hot rage that runs through me. But it isn't what you think. You've shown me disrespect at every very turn. You've thrown fits when you haven't gotten your way. Answered for your husband multiple times (you're smarter than him sweetheart, I can tell the difference) when he wasn't handling an argument between me and him the way you thought he should. You've stomped from court rooms when the judge didn't say what you liked. You've snatched my own son from my arms, like you had a right to take him from me. And I'm not completely blameless in all of this. Believe it or not I have struggled too. You see, as a mother it is hard to see your son in another woman's arms. It is hard to know that he loves her too, possibly as much as he loves you yourself. It is hard knowing that when he is away there is another woman calling herself his mother. In the beginning I tried to see past all of that. I tried to get you to understand that I don't hate your existence. I don't envy you being with my ex. I am sad at the lost time with my son but I am grateful he has you there. You see, I don't have much respect for his father. But upon hearing the news that you two were getting married I thought "wow. She's gotta be pretty strong. She's gotta have a big heart to put up with all of that." You see, I know this journey has been hard for you. Walking into a relationship with a man who has an unborn child by another woman? Excuse me being frank, but that takes balls. Especially at your age. But it doesn't mean you have to be bitter. It doesn't mean any of us have to be bitter. It's no secret that I don't care much for your husband. But I am trying. Not for you. Not for him. Or even me. But for our son. And yes I mean our. Not just mine and his but we all share him. We all love him. I know this isn't how you imagined your happily ever after. Wouldn't it be easier to adjust those dreams though if we could both lay down our pride and actually accept one another? I accept you as his bonus mommy. I don't like the way you've treated me but I know how you treat our son. That's the side of you I want to see. I don't envision us ever walking hand in hand talking about our boy but we CAN coexist peacefully. You see, it's been hard for me too. I've always been mommy. The ONLY mommy. But I've had to come to terms with myself and realize he's yours too. Whether I like you or not. Whether you like me or not. We both (and our husbands) play a huge role in his life. Parent, step parent...it doesn't matter. All he should know is love. From all of us. Not underlying resentment towards the other parents. Not tense transitions that leave him confused. And he'll pick up on it even more as he gets older. Not the constant thought of "I'm better than your other parent. This would be easier if it wasn't for her." Because trust me, even if you never speak it in words it will show. So here I am still praying that one day you'll move past that resentment, move past what you've heard and get to know the real me. Not so that we can become friends, but so that our son can see two strong women who love him enough to at least try to like each other. That's all I'm asking. Respect me and I'll respect you and together the four of us can raise this little boy, this little joy...believe it or not we can all do it together. And it won't be peaches and cream. There will still be arguments, still be times we don't like each other or agree. But if we can build upon a foundation of respect we can make it through all of that and realize that the ugly isn't really so ugly anymore. That we're all his parents and we all love him. Because that's the bottom line. The only reason we even know each other. Let your love for him outweigh your resentment towards me. Let your love for him heal your broken dreams and mend together a more fulfilling life for our son. Like it or not, I'm here forever. He's my baby boy. But I'm willing to admit he's yours too. I'm willing to lay down my pride and work through my fears for his sake. I'm willing to view you as an equal and go through this hard yet oh so rewarding journey of motherhood together. Wouldn't it be easier if we at least tried to get along?

Try

I put on the cutest clothes I can fit into. Fox my hair. Do my makeup. Well it ever be enough? Look at me. Look through me. You used to. I used to be vivid in your eyes. And now mine burn with unshed years. Did I put too much on your plate? Become dull with everyday wear? When did I become nothing more than another casualty in your life? You used to spark madness in me at the slightest touch. Now I rarely feel your touch anymore...I've spent my whole life being people's light in the dark. But now more than ever I just want to be yours...

Expectations...

I'm trying so hard not to be angry with you. But the truth is I'm livid. And I keep telling myself it's because of all these expectations I've got set in my own head. I know this. Yet it's not any easier to bear. So now I've fallen into this depression. And I'm trying so hard. But it doesn't seem to get me anywhere. A baby step here, a half step there. It's all too much. And I keep saying that it'll be okay. We can make it work. But I'm so tired of working and working and working. I won't give up. This I know. They always say that when one is weak the other is their support. What happens when we're both weak though? What happens when we've both hit the floor? I keep saying, pick yourself up. Get moving. Trudge a little further. But I don't want to. I want you to stand up. I want you to move forward. I want it to be your hand reaching down to pick me up off the floor. I am tired. I am scared. I am worried. I am doing my best not to complain but I also feel like I'm two seconds from shattering. I can handle this alone. I've done it before. But that's not how it's supposed to be anymore. We're supposed to be partners. Lifting each other up. And so I'm angry with you. I've fallen yet nobody is here to pick up my slack. I have to keep going through the motions. Watching as you struggle too. "I wish I was strong enough for both of us". But I'm not. Not right now. I need your strength. I need your embrace. I need your reassurance. I need you to step up where I've been knocked down. But that's not how this works. So what I really need is to pull myself together. It's just never been this hard before...the weight of not only my world, but three others, is on my shoulders. And I so badly want to say "come hold me, this is supposed to be our burden to share". But it isn't. It's mine. And I knew this from the start. So how do I let go of those expectations? How do I regain my confidence in myself rather than silently begging for your support? I've gotta get up...I've gotta put another foot forward...

"I'm fine"

There's so many things I wanna say, so much left to do. But at the end of the day it's just me and you. We're supposed to be best friends. There for each other til the end. Yet suddenly all too soon we're drifting apart. I can feel the million pieces of my breaking heart. I'm tired and I'm scared. Wholly unprepared. So won't you lie with me? Remember who we're supposed to be? I've been lied to, abused, shut down and neglected. It's you that I've chosen, you that's been selected. You promised to nurture me, hear my woes and remind me to breathe. Yet here I am drowning and you don't even see...

Argh

I feel like I'm losing my shit. I'm constantly fighting tears, completely exhausted and stressed the fuck out. I feel nothing like myself and I hate being like this. And everyone around me is being so patient and so kind. I feel like I'm failing them all...