Archive | April 2012

FWB, anyone?

 

“Friends with benefits? More than friends? Don’t sample the goodies unless you’re willing to risk addiction and withdrawal.” 

~Ann Landers~

This weekend, a few friends and I got together for movies and junk food.  We’re all pretty much broke as a joke, so yeah, we improvise!  We watched ‘Clerks’ and ‘Friends with Benefits’ while gorging on pepperoni monkey bread, chips, dip and rice crispy treats.  There was an ice cream cake as well, but we never got to it.  Sad, really.  But, I am certain it will not go to waste.  Anyway, we watched ‘Friends with Benefits’, and it got me thinking– can one REALLY have an arrangement with someone that is purely physical?  NEITHER party develops feelings at some point?  Is it possible?  I know people who are married and have an FWB on the side.  I know people who are single –with no desire to ever change that status– that have an FWB.  I know people who are exclusive with one person but without the relationship–simply a FWB.  I also know people who have tried to have an FWB, but couldn’t continue due to developing some serious feelings for the other person.  It’s a tricky thing, this FWB arrangement.

I will admit it, after my separation, I attempted to have one of these said arrangements.  I didn’t know it was going to be that, but just kind of morphed into it, I guess.   We were just two lonely people who enjoyed each others company, and could have a blast out on the town together and with friends, or just hanging out on the couch watching movies all night.  For a while, it was fine.  Nothing weird– no complications– no expectations.  But, after a few months, I began to realize that I was WAY more involved with ‘us’ than he.  I don’t know why I thought that if I was developing feelings, then, surely, he must be as well….. right?!?  No…… No, he was not.  Well, wait– he was– just not for me.  It hurt a bit, but being the type of relationship it was, I was able to put things into perspective quickly and easily.  I suppose that I believed it was one of those silent, but mutual agreements, that while we were ‘together’, we would be monogamous.  I have since learned that these types of relationships simply do not work that way unless the stipulation is brought to the table right from the beginning.   Today?  We are still awesome friends.  We hang out with our friends like nothing ever happened.  It was weird for a little while, but we’re just not willing to let anything come between our friendship.  And, I’m glad about that.

I do realize that there is, often times, more pressure from the girl to turn the arrangement into a relationship.  And, yes.  I am guilty of trying to make a relationship out of nothing.  But, I’m curious to know if there are guys who entered into one of these said arrangements and found himself falling for the girl.  If so, does he tell her?  Do they convert from arrangement to relationship like you see in the movies?  Or, is it easy for him to keep emotions out of the physical act of sex?  From my own experience, I know that it’s damn near impossible for me to be physically involved with someone and not have an emotional connection with him.  Chalk it up to being a stupid girl, I guess.  I have never been able to separate the two.  I know that I would be better off if I could separate the two, but I suppose I keep hoping that I will find the man who is equally attracted to me physically and emotionally. 

Is that really so much to ask?  Uggh.

I remember after my separation my father told me I would eventually want to be with a man again.  I told him he was crazy.  I didn’t need a man.  I have my Chilton’s book, my appliance owner manuals, and my tools to fix stuff on my own.  He said, “yes, and it’s great that you can fix things on your own.  But a Chilton’s book won’t keep you warm at night.”   He was right, of course.  Eventually, I did want to begin dating.  I did wish to find the right guy for me.  I did want to find my “happily ever after”.  Almost 3 years later…….  I’m still looking.  I thought I had found him twice.  The first time– this man is simply awesome.  We can talk about anything.  We can laugh, pick on each other, hang out.. he even lets me just sit on the phone and cry.  Did I want something more with him than I had?  Absolutely.  But I wouldn’t give up what we have now for the world unless circumstances changed considerably and allowed for more.  The second time?  Yeah.. he’s the reason I started blogging.  I was so very sure about him and our future.  I wanted nothing more than to be with him.  I wanted a lifetime with him and our combined 6 kids.  I was truly shattered when he left……. via text message.  It’s been over a month now, and while I’m healing and beginning to see the many red flags that were waving all around me, it still hurts.  Badly.  And it has completely turned me off of dating.  Ever.  It scares me how completely disinterested I am in attempting to date again.   My friends keep telling me this, too, will change, but I don’t know.  I honestly do not know if I can go through this heartache, or, disillusionment of beliefs, again.  I keep saying it is going to take one hell of an amazingly awesome man to convince me I need to go out with him. 

So, of course, the conversation of obtaining a FWB comes up with one of my BFF’s.  I say how it sounds like a good idea– that’s all I need really.  Someone to use and lose.  Blah. Blah.  Blah.  The fact is… I already know that I cannot separate emotions and sex.  So, therefore, I wouldn’t be able to have just a FWB arrangement– I’d end up falling for the guy and get my heart broken all over again when he doesn’t fall for me!  Uggh.  I just don’t know.

What do you guys think?  Is it REALLY possible to have a strictly physical relationship for BOTH parties?  No emotional involvement AT ALL?  If so… share your tips!  haha!  🙂

 

 

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Hmmm.. will a babysitter take one of the kids as payment?!?

Seriously?  Has anyone SEEN what sitters charge these days?!  I’d have to sell a kidney to afford some of them!  I’m losing my favoritist summer sitter this year, as she got a ‘real’ job.  Can’t blame her, really.  She is almost in college, and needs to pay some bills!  Plus, I’m sure she’d like some conversation that doesn’t include barbie dolls, bakugan and tween drama.

So, yeah, the sitter search…..  unreal!  I joined SitterCity to locate some possibilities for child care–summer, evening (for dating, of course, when I’m not disgusted with men anymore…), and after-school care once the ex-husband leaves for some crazy school thing in the fall.  I became disheartened quite quickly as I read some of the profiles of the sitters and their salary requirements.  A lot of them are barely qualified to take care of my fish, let alone my children, and are looking for $15 an hour!!  Now, I am not cheap… but I AM a single mom and simply cannot afford to pay a fortune for sub-par child care.

On a good note, I did have one young lady apply to my post, and after some additional stalking  research with the help of my co-worker, she seems like a keeper!  We’ve emailed back and forth a few times already, and will be meeting next week to see if she is a good fit for my family.  I’m excited to meet her after our few exchanges– she seems to have a great personality, a plan, education… I think she will be good for my kids.

My question for all of you is…. how have you found child care?  Friends?  Family members?  Placed an ad somewhere?  Church/religious community?  I’d love to hear ideas, as I’m always on the lookout for a sitter, and well, considering I joined a site similar to an online dating site… I could use the help!!!

The Choking Game- Scary stuff, indeed.

So, when I was a kid, I used to do this fun trick on the bus on the way home from school.  I do not even remember who taught me, and, I cannot recall how old I was– maybe 6th grade?  I can say that I was in one of the very back seats, so I had to be one of the older kids on the bus.   I remember everyone thinking how cool it was that I could do it.  “Teach me,” they’d say.  Being a parent now, I am horrified that I ever did this, and pray to whomever will listen that my children never, and I repeat, NEVER even consider doing it.  I can honestly say that I’m sure my parents never heard about it, as I always made it home safely, but I know if they had heard– my posterior would likely still be sore!!  (Sorry, Dad.. I swear I’ll never do it again!!  🙂 Promise!)  It’s been hitting the news a lot lately, and I feel the need to put the word out.

What is it, you ask?  It’s called the Choking Game–only, when I did it, I don’t think it had a name– it was just.. ‘Hey.. Hey.. Look what Pam can do!!  Show’em!’  All I would do is kneel down in between the seats and take a whole bunch of really fast, really deep breaths to make myself feel light-headed.. and then I’d stand up.  And then, I’d pass out back into my seat.  That was it, but everyone thought it was so very cool.  I did, too, until I started passing out for real because of really painful migraines and would smash my head into things like the wall, the side of the tub, the door, or the floor.  Needless to say, I didn’t perform my fun trick after that started happening. 

The newest version of the game is, apparently, considered a free and easy way for kids to experience a ‘high’ without the use of drugs or alcohol  according to GASP (Games Adolescents Shouldn’t Play). Basically, what happens is this:  the child will purposely cut off oxygen and blood flow to the brain in order to achieve the brief feeling of the blood rushing back into the brain–the high.  It causes a ” warm and fuzzy feeling” which the child views as a ‘high’.  I can imagine that many people (children included) can compare it to the sexual fetish play of auto-erotic asphyxiation, where strangulation or suffocation is used to induce or increase sexual sensation and pleasure.  The Choking Game is the same in that the participant will either induce hyperventilation, suffocate him/herself, use chest compression, or compress the arteries in the neck to achieve the desired ‘high’.  Problem is, though, many do not have the strength or mental capacity about them after having cut off oxygen and blood flow to the brain, and cannot stop the process.  Or, perhaps, they have a friend ‘helping’ them and the friend freaks out and leaves.  This can turn deadly.  Quickly. 

There are no concrete statistics out there, as there really aren’t any groups to monitor the events, but, in 2008, the Center for Disease Control did release a report with some estimates (and many disclaimers) which stated:

Because no traditional public health dataset collects mortality data on this practice, CDC used news media reports to estimate the incidence of deaths from the choking game. This report describes the results of that analysis, which identified 82 probable choking-game deaths among youths aged 6–19 years, during 1995–2007. Seventy-one (86.6%) of the decedents were male, and the mean age was 13.3 years. Parents, educators, and health-care providers should become familiar with warning signs that youths are playing the choking game (2). 

This report was intended to cover years 1995-2007.  If you take a look at Gaspinfo.com’s statistic page, however, it shows 605 occurrences.  Their statistics are “gathered from what we consider reputable sources but there could be errors and omissions.” 

So, who knows what the real statistics are?  I’m not sure.  But the fact is, this IS an issue.  Our children ARE being exposed to this. 

And it’s dangerous.

Many kids, much like myself back in the day, may not see the dangers.  They may not understand that every time they participate in this ‘game’, they are damaging brain cells, and could cause long-lasting damage, if not death.  We all need to speak to our children about this ‘game’.  Let them know it is not cool.  It is not fun.  It is not healthy.  It is dangerous.  Let them know to come to us if they know their friends are participating so that we can step in and possibly save another parent from having to bury their child.  Make your schools aware.  Inform the community.  Do Something. 

 I know that I will.  

Will you?

My joys are many, and my regrets very few.

Too many people overvalue what they are not and undervalue what they are.”

~Malcolm S. Forbes~

It’s funny how a simple, harmless conversation with a friend can sometimes spark unintentional deep thought and introspection.  In between bouts of hysterical laughing (I’m certain at the expense of someone NOT present in said conversation) there tends to be more serious  not-as-comical conversation about life and its many adventures.  During one particular conversation last evening, a gentleman friend of mine very bluntly stated that  I, uh, I mean, people “need to just chill out and be who you are supposed to be.  Stop worrying about everything you can’t do and be proud of what you can.  No one should have to make themselves become something different to make anyone else happy.”  While our conversation wasn’t about anything in particular–(read–I was NOT complaining about my ex and how I wasn’t good enough.  No, honestly, I wasn’t… haha) it actually opened up a sore spot within me.  He has no idea that he even started me thinking–which is probably a good thing because if he did he would never let me forget that he had a meaningful thought process.  :/

This sore spot has been around for many, many, many years.  I  have to believe it began in high school, as that is the first time I can recall feeling inadequate.  I remember having visited my mother one summer and for whatever reason, I ballooned up in weight.  I was a cross-country runner, so this was a huge no-no.  I think the weight came about because a lot of my interaction with my mother had to do with food while I was there, and even after I left.  She would send me ‘care packages’ when I returned home– full of my favorite bags of potato chips from her area.   I began to eat.  And eat.  And eat.  I would eat until I threw up.  Over and over I would do this.  When I ran out of stuff from her, I’d ride my bike 3 miles to the nearest store that sold junk food and buy myself bag after bag of garbage.  And I would eat.  And eat.  And eat some more.  And then I’d throw up.  It got to the point that I got so grossed out by all the junk food (even though I’d just throw it all up anyway) that I’d make myself run.  So, now, I’ve ridden my bike about 6 miles (to get the food), eaten it all and thrown up (leaving my stomach empty), and now I’m out running.  It’s no wonder I went from 150 lbs to 117 in a matter of 3 months.  I can see that today, but back then?  I was certain it was because I was throwing up.  Hence my five-year battle with bulimia and binge eating began.

I look at myself in pictures from back then, and while, yes, I was  ‘pretty’, I looked sickly.  There was NOTHING to my body.  I was simply skin and bones.  I remember by my senior year, I had gotten down as far as 110 lbs, and being 5’7″, it is not a stretch to say that my rib cage protruded further than my boobage.  Bracelets fell off my wrists… rings slid off my fingers..  I was too skinny.  And yet, I believed I was still too fat because I couldn’t get a boyfriend, or I wasn’t part of the ‘popular’ crowd.  If I was skinnier, I’d run faster.   I suppose it didn’t help that my senior year was my best ever in Cross Country–I even placed in a championship race!   It never occurred to me that I was attempting to be what I thought others wanted me to be.  I just believed if I could be something different that what I was– I’d find happiness.

Fast forward to present day, and I still haven’t found that elusive happiness.  I keep blaming it on life– life dealt me some crappy cards, and because of it, I’m barely getting through each day.  I had to stop running due to injuries to my hips (Bursitis in both joints.. OUCHIE!!) and, therefore, my weight crept on.  I left New Jersey, my family and friends, and a job I loved to move to New York to be with the man in whom I believed I was in love, and end up a single mother of 3 children in a state I do not particularly enjoy and unable to return to the place that makes me feel whole.  My regrets are many, and my joys very few.  It is time to reverse that statement.

My joys are many, and my regrets very few.

The question begs, however, HOW do I do this?  HOW do I reverse the beliefs that have defined my being for more than half of my life?  Where do I even begin to undo all of the damage that life did NOT do to me, but rather, *I* did to myself?  Am I crazy to even attempt such a seemingly unwinnable battle?  Will I sink even further into depression rather than unveil that happiness I so desire?  I suppose the only reasonable answer to these questions is…… I really don’t know.

I know that the opening quote suits me quite well.  I DO spend an awful long time focusing on what I am not.  I DO NOT give myself credit for all that I am.  Again, I need to reverse those things.  So, in an effort to begin just that, I am going to start a list of things at which I AM capable and good, and of the things I like about myself.

  • Being a mommy.
    • Certainly I am not the best, but I am far from the worst.  I am so proud of my children and who they are becoming.  They are talented, extremely intelligent, unbelievably adorable (Biased?  absolutely.  True? Also absolutely.), crazy, moody, caring, empathetic, sensitive, inquisitive, and capable of creating more laundry then I ever thought possible among other things.   They are, without a doubt, the reason I am alive today.  I am so very blessed to be their mother, and, even though I am no longer with their father, I know if I had NOT made the choices I did back then, I would not have these exact three children.  So, for that fact alone, I am thankful to him for making me their mommy.
  • Ability to learn and absorb information.
    • I am always reading.  I love to learn new things.  I am actually excited to (hopefully) be attending a training seminar for work (Information Technology).  I like to try new methods of doing things–such as cooking.  I am attempting to learn about different faiths and spiritualities.  I’m exploring a different way of nourishing my body and I’m intrigued at how it is responding, and, therefore, am researching different foods and their impact on the human body.  Science excites me.  Technology excites me.  People excite me.  Nature excites me.
  • Ability to cook.
    • I’m not a 5 star chef or anything, but I am pretty good at creating some palatable meals!  I like to take on new recipes… new ingredients… flavors I’d never imagine trying before.  I make a kick-ass chicken noodle soup from scratch using a whole chicken and cooking it for hours.  I ‘cook a good pig’ according to my 7-year-old twins.  I have had numerous requests for my ‘Ethnic Food’ or, as we normal people call them.. enchiladas.  I’ve recently ventured into new territory with clean eating and juicing.  I’m still learning, though, and some of my creations are, uh, interesting?  But, the fact remains… I’m a pretty darn good cook.  Now, ask me to bake something?  Yeah.. not happening.
  • Seeing the good in others.
    • Sure, this happens to get me into a lot of trouble at times, because, I tend to see ONLY the good and not the blazing red flags staring at me ready to slap me upside my head.. but, hey, I still think it’s a good quality.  I do not wish to change it, actually.  I believe that the minute you allow yourself to see the bad in someone right off the bat, you lose your opportunity to meet some truly amazing individuals.  First impressions do make a huge impact, but in my eyes, they’re nothing more than impressions.  I do not judge people because I am the LAST one that should be doing so.  I give everyone the same opportunity to enter my life– and until my trust is broken, or my impression flawed, I consider them a contributing part of my existence.  I get chastised for this trait.  I’m told I give too many people the benefit of doubt that do not deserve it.
  • I’m very trusting.
    • Again, another thing about which I get chastised.  I suppose it could appear to some that I am gullible.  And, perhaps, I am.  I trust implicitly unless given a reason not to.  I want people to trust me, and in exchange for that, I must trust them.  At least that is how I think.  I know that I’m risking getting the proverbial screw over….. and I know that I’m inviting heartbreak into my life…. but I simply cannot change this part of my personality.  No.  Scratch that.  I WILL not change this part of my personality.  I love this part of me.  I love that I am able to trust people regardless of how many times I’ve been hurt, disillusioned, or betrayed.
  • I have amazing friends, and in return, I am a great friend to them.
    • I listen.  I laugh.  I advise.  I feed.  I comfort.  I share in joys and sorrows.  We have created a lifetime of memories.  My friends are my better halves.   When we are together, I am unstoppable.  I have few friends, but the ones with which I choose to keep close I am inseparable.  It makes no difference if they live 5 minutes from me or 5 hours.  My best friends in the world are my best friends wherever I happen to be.  I wouldn’t be near as sane as I am today without them.  Lorraine, Kelly, Mike, Chris, Steve, Amanda, Eric, Kevin, Lisa, Jessica, Rob– You all know I’d do whatever I could, whenever I could, wherever I could to help you out if you asked….  Thank you for always doing the same for me, and for bringing me out of some of the darkest days of my life.
  • I beat bulimia– and gained a party trick!
    • Ok, Ok, so it is not really that funny that I can throw up on command— but it is awesome that I no longer do it to keep my weight in check.  Are the urges there now that I am attempting to regain control of my eating and weight?  Absolutely.  But, I’m strong enough to beat them, and (mostly) know what triggers them.
  • I’m beautiful no matter how much I weigh.
    • This one is huge for me (no pun intended).  I am not comfortable at my current weight, and know that I am not the healthiest I could be either, but, I am no longer obsessing on my delusion that somehow the number on the scale defines my beauty.  I believe my beauty is a combination of my appearance AND my personality.  I happen to think I have an AWESOME personality!
  • I am independent.
    • As a kid, I was ready to take on the world.  No one could do anything for me, because I could always do it myself– or better than they could.  For the duration of my marriage, though, I felt dependant upon my husband to do even the simplest task.  Calling the utility companies was too much for me to handle.  I have since re-created myself, so to speak, and have taken back my ability to accomplish things on my own.  I can now fix the furnace, the water heater pipes, my car, the toilet, the sink, disassemble and reassemble the washer, and many other things!  I mow my own lawn, care for my home, tend my own gardens, work full-time, parent full-time, and yet– I still manage to be AWESOME.  Yes.  That’s right.  I’m that good.
  • I am a Girl Scout leader– and I enjoy it!
    • Yes.  I am a Girl Scout leader.  I have had a troop for going on 3 years now.  We’ve gone from Brownies to Juniors, and are currently working on our Bronze Awards for Junior Scouts.  I am good at it.  The girls are great, and like to participate most of the time.  Some days.. none of us are really ‘there’.  haha.  I love being active in the troop and helping to shape these young girls into strong, confident, independent young women.  I like to believe that I make a difference in their lives.

Well, there are my first ten things.  I will keep adding to them, though, so that I can better reverse my self-defeating ways of thinking.  I will stop worrying that I am not the skinniest person in the world, or that I yell at my kids sometimes.  I will forgive myself for eating those deliciously wretched mozzarella sticks every Saturday afternoon with Kelly.  I will not worry that I may not run that 5K in June, and, instead, reframe my goal to better suit my body and its ability to re-adjust to running.  I will continue to further my education.  I will not stop exploring spirituality. and, even though my opinions are often very jaded on this very subject, I will do my best to keep an open mind.  I will not go in search of that ‘perfect love’, but will, instead, allow it to find me.  I cannot, and do not, expect perfection in the worldly definition, but I wish to be the perfect ME that I can.

*I*, alone, will be held accountable for my own personal happiness.

I would love to hear from others– what do you like about yourself?  What disillusionment or self-depreciating behavior will you decide to reverse?  How will you do it?  Please feel free to use your comment as an item of accountability!

I must be crazy– or financially ruined!

I have decided, as I previously blogged, that I’m taking this time since the breakup to get myself healthy both physically and emotionally.  It is certainly quite the effort since I have let myself go for so long.  I have become attached to so many bad habits that I am struggling to figure out where to even begin.  Some days, I wake up so utterly exhausted I can barely drag myself out of bed by the fifth round of the snooze button.  Other days, I wake up so ready to start my day with an awesome workout on Tread followed by an awesome high protein breakfast or delicious fruit/veggie juice combination.

I suppose this is better than even just three months ago.  I was sleeping no more than an hour or two a night.  I was smoking approximately a pack of cigarettes a day.  I ate junk food for breakfast– usually some packaged goody I picked up at the local convenience store–if I ate breakfast at all.  I would start my day with a diet soda and a smoke.  I absolutely did not exercise.  I was a walking disaster.  I fell asleep randomly throughout the day.  I felt narcoleptic.  I felt nothing short of completely out of control.  As awful as it sounds, and absolutely is, there were days I wished I would not wake up.

No one should every feel like that.  Ever.

One of the things the ex-boyfriend and I had agreed to do together was get healthy.  While that obviously fell through, I remain determined to make it happen.  I do, after all, have three amazing little people for which to care!  So, I push myself to get out of bed in the morning and get the kids off to school.  I push myself to get on the treadmill.  I make myself eat or juice.  I work.  I pick up the children and begin the nightly routine of getting things ready for the next morning, taking care of the pups, getting the kids to bed, and then getting on the treadmill again.  It is a battle of willpower, and unfortunately, willpower is not always the victor.  I can say, though, that my desire to finally get rid of this excess weight and the medical complications that have surfaced because of it is getting stronger by the day.

It better be, or else I will never be ready to run that 5K in June!!  AAACK!

But, see, I have an issue with this whole health kick thing.  How the heck is a single mother with a not-so-financially-sufficient job supposed to afford it?!?  I received a letter from the insurance company– apparently Diabetic education is NOT a covered service.  I suppose I should be thrilled that they only let me go two times before informing me they weren’t going to be paying for any of it.  Uggh.  And this healthy eating crap?  Yeah.  About that….

There’s kale, spinach, red cabbage, white cabbage, celery, cucumbers, ginger, mint, carrots, oranges, mangoes, strawberries, pears, red apples, green apples, pineapple, bananas, spaghetti squash, grapefruit, grapes, kiwi, cauliflower, green/red/yellow peppers, lemons and limes.   This trip to the grocery store produce section cost me a pretty $130.  Not sure what the kids will be eating…. 😉  Actually, the kids are loving being able to make juice concoctions!  So far, their favorites are straight grape, kiwi/strawberry, and carrot/pear/apple/cucumber.

I am looking forward to the farmers markets where I can purchase all these yummy fruits and veggies.  It makes me happy to stroll through all of the booths and support local farmers rather than the big name grocery stores.  I’d actually like to start a community garden where we all work together to produce a bountiful harvest.  Not only would it provide me with home-grown sustenance, but it would provide a much-needed boost of neighborly interaction.

Has anyone tried this before??  I don’t just mean the community garden idea– but the life transformation from unhealthy and icky to healthy and hot!  I’d love to hear from everyone what they did and what sparked their decisions…

My terrible, horrible, no good, very bad day…..

This is a purely self-centered post, and I’m not ashamed to admit that fact.  I’ve had a rotten day, and, for whatever reason, writing helps.  Do I expect anyone to continue reading beyond this sentence?  Absolutely not.  Do I believe we all take comfort in knowing someone else’s day was just that much crappier than our own, so we’ll keep reading?  Absolutely.  And that is, in my book, quite alright.  I’ve done it.  Many times.  And it always tends to make me feel better if I’m able to offer some sort of words of encouragement, empathy or  understanding.  It also makes me feel better if I can simply have a giggle to myself and say “Wow.. it really sucks to be him/her right now, but I suppose that’s what he/she gets for being a dbag.”  Is that last bit productive or even nice??  Nope.  But, I can honestly say that no matter how much I try to be nice to every single person I encounter, even I have my breaking point.  And today was that day.

It started in the middle of the night last night.  I was sleeping– which as many of you that know me understand is a rarity– but at some point in the night, my apnea mask broke and decided to dig into my forehead.  Uh, yeah, that hurt.  I ripped off the mask and threw it across the room.  Needless to say, the remainder of my sleep was quite craptastic.  Then, I figured I could make it all better by having my regular morning date with Tread.  He tends to make me forget about everything else except how my body feels.  I decided to begin my intervals of jogging/walking as June isn’t getting any further away and if I’m going to be running that 5k, I need to start getting focused.  I was into my third round of intervals when Tread’s belt decided it wanted to slip.

Imagine the scene– me zoned out– focusing on my breathing and proper form so as to not wreck my hips again– and all of a sudden.. WHOOOOOOSH goes the belt.. and down I go.  I try to grab onto the bars to stabilize myself.  Epic fail.  So, I try regaining my footing– or at least step off the belt.  Bigger Epic Fail.  My foot gets on the side rail, but, apparently, that’s the side to which the belt decided to slip.  The edge of my sneaker was still on the belt and it wasn’t stopping anytime soon.  Now I’m sideways, barely standing.. grasping at bars, the wall… instead I fall backwards off the damn thing and have to somehow avoid falling onto the child that was sitting on the floor next to me playing WII as I worked out.  It was quite the two-step jig!  I ended up on my rear with one foot on Tread and the other twisted somewhere behind me.  Ouch.  But I finished my workout– just without the jogging.

So, then, I had the battle of good vs. evil– or Kids rule, Moms drool.  Apparently, attempting to instill values and a sense of responsibility are simply unacceptable objectives in this household.  Apparently, chores are NOT necessary.  Neither are respect, appreciation, self-control, acknowledgement, or compromise.  The only acceptable course of action in this household is chaos.

Well– as I stated before– there’s only so much a person can take.  I lost it.  I screamed.  I bellowed.  I threw stuff.  I removed every electronic device from their possession. I gave them MORE chores. I became Demon Mother.  I was someone I had never seen before in my life.  And I hated it.  I had to remove myself from the household in order to keep myself from becoming physically violent, and while I am glad that I had enough wits about me to realize I was that far gone,  I’ve never reached that point in my life.  It was the most frightened I’ve been in forever.

Then I noticed they ate every single piece of candy from their Easter basket. Every. Single. Piece.  In under 12 hours.  SIX bags of candy.  Gone.

That was the final straw.  I blew my lid at my oldest.  Somehow managed to get her to softball practice on time even though her father was late to pick up her siblings.  I still have no idea how I didn’t wreck the car… or the two of us.

And that’s when the panic attack happened.  I drove to work fighting back the tears.  Got to work and saw my coworker and just spewed forth the days ridiculousness and then started scratching.  Because everything itched.  My skin was swelling in the strangest places.  The top of my right hand.  The inner forearm of my left arm.  The left side of my neck.  What a disaster I was.

And yet… my coworker listened to me cry.  He listened to me beat myself up for breaking apart.  He listened to me go on about how I am a failure at motherhood, relationships.. and pretty much everything else I attempt in life.

Then he told me to stop.  That I had come too far to let go of my progress.  That I have two choices– accept who I am, or change who I am, and at the end of the day– know that I’ve done what I’ve done to the best of my abilities.

Gosh, I love my friends.  ❤

So, at the end of this horrid day, I can simply say– sometimes we need to break into tiny little pieces and spend the time it takes to put ourselves back together.  The finished product may never look the same, but it’s one of which to be proud.

 

 

Beliefs

“A person’s heart never breaks. However beliefs do,,, and when they do,,, it can be emotionally painful.   When a partner cheats on us, or breaks up with us, our beliefs about who they are, what they mean to us, and beliefs about our future break. We call it heart break but it is really a disillusionment of beliefs.”

So, I read this today.  And I cried.  And then.. I cried some more. I have been feeling heartbroken since ‘Sweatshirt’ left.  Absolutely, horribly, uncontrollably heartbroken. I have run it through my mind a million times, and couldn’t for the life of me understand how anyone can walk away from someone they claim to love so completely….. How anyone can make promises, and break them as if they mean nothing……  How anyone can use a text message as an appropriate means to turn another persons world upside down…. How it’s nearly a month later, and barely any communication (verbal, text, email) has occurred to either start anew and begin to rebuild at a much slower pace, or to officially close the door and allow for healing.  I, for one reason or another, have held out hope for the former, because, well, apparently I’m a fool for loving this man when the signs were blazingly clear to those close to me that while he may have had strong feelings for me, his intentions were never to ‘stick it out’.  His intentions were not to learn my idiosyncrasies and embrace them, but to hold them against me as reasons for his departure.

It’s funny how things like this work.  I truly felt my heart ache when I thought of him.. saw a picture of him or his awesome kids.. or thought of the future we had planned out together.. or see his belongings still in my bedroom (which had not been shared with another since my husband and I split)..  or see his name appear on my phone with a random all business text from him.. or when I’m about to go over the edge and I instinctively grab the phone to call him because his voice can calm me (which I did today.. caught myself before it dialed, however.)  My heart aches.  But the statement above is absolutely true.  My heart isn’t broken.  It’s confused and disheartened and angry that I not only fell head over heels in love with this man…. but that I BELIEVED every word he said to me.  I BELIEVED he loved me.  I BELIEVED he wanted to share his life with me.  I BELIEVED he was okay with my crazy OCD tendencies (mostly because he told me they made him love me more..).   I BELIEVED he wanted to marry me on the Jersey Shore and have all of our closest friends and family join us for the barbecue of a lifetime.  I BELIEVED he wanted to co-drive with me across the country when our children are all grown and on their own, keeping our trailer (with a double lot so I could have my garden) for ‘vacation’.  I BELIEVED he wanted to be my confidant– my shoulder to cry on– my corner to hide in when the world became too much for me to handle.  I BELIEVED he wanted our future together as much as I.

It isn’t that I do not love him any longer, because I absolutely do.  I am the kind of person that loves deeply and passionately once that wall is brought down.  I suppose I invite the heart ache… the disillusionment of belief… by being the type of person that I am.  I give freely.. willingly.. without question.  I love unconditionally.  I do argue.. and I can be mean.  I try not to hold a grudge, but I need some more work in that department.  I give, and I give, and I give, and I give.. and I BELIEVE that while the other person is taking, it means they love as much as I.  It never crosses my mind until after they have left that there was never going to be reciprocation.  And it hurts.  I cannot blame anyone for this except for myself.  It’s a flaw in my personality to be trusting, and giving, and, apparently, gullible and naive.

So, what is the solution?  I suppose I need to change who I am.  I never thought that being a trusting, giving, emotional being was a bad thing, but it has proven itself to be detrimental to my emotional well-being.  It leaves me with few options– I can continue to be who I am and welcome the ‘broken hearts’, I can continue to be who I am without allowing a male companion into the mix, or I can change who I am and become less available emotionally, and, therefore, less connected socially.  None of these options makes me too anxious to wake up tomorrow morning, if I’m being perfectly honest.  Just saying.

A very dear friend of mine told me today that I have people who love me— for who I am right now.  And that I need to be okay with that.  He said that I have come so far from the person I was while my husband was still around to the person I am today.   And I BELIEVE him.  I know in my head, and my heart that he WILL NOT lie to me.  He DOES accept me for who I am–just as my two best girlfriends in the world do as well.  I BELIEVE that my life is full, and that I have been blessed with many people who have become staples in my life and introduced me to things of which I would otherwise be oblivious. I BELIEVE that I am a good person.  I BELIEVE that I deserve to be loved as deeply and as passionately as I love.  I also BELIEVE that it may never happen for me.

And, believe it or not….. as much as I hate to think I will be the proverbial crazy cat lady who spends her life with 200 cats with not a man in sight….. I BELIEVE I am okay with that.   It is going to be a difficult process of learning which of my beliefs are healthy and which are unhealthy, but it is a challenge in which I must partake.  The only way to combat the disillusionment of belief is to know–without doubt– that my beliefs are healthy and putting me in a position to raise my children, support the four of us, and maintain my health.  I need nothing more than that.