Tuesday Night Ramblings

I've been doing a lot of thinking the past few weeks about how I've come to be in this particular place I'm at now. I've always viewed life as a hamster maze. I'm the hamster and I've traveled this path of closed doors and dead end streets for the vast majority of my life. Every time I've hit one of these dead ends or closed doors, I always readjust, find a new path and so on and so on. However, depending on the type of closed door, I have a difficult time readjusting. Now is one of those moments. Adjusting to my circumstances and surroundings seems to be an insurmountable task. The woman who always had a backup plan, the woman who never let anything hold her down, is being held down. I feel like a bird with its wings clipped. I find myself to be frustrated, angry, overwhelmed and annoyed.

I dislike when my heart and mind are in a struggle. My heart knows what it wants but my mind knows what I need. I think that's the problem with most people, we let our hearts override our minds. At this given point in time, I'd gladly shoot my heart, lay it to rest and go on with my life heartless. It seems like the heartless ones are those that always come out on top. Maybe if I didn't care so much, I'd be able to brush of the nonsense and move on. Maybe living my life according to the golden rule was a mistake. It's done nothing but make me "weak" in the eyes of  some people. I hate hurting the feelings of others, however, in an attempt to save them from sadness, my feelings get trampled.

The problem isn't that I don't love myself. Deep down inside, I know I'm a beautiful person. I love who I am. I don't want to change me to fit society. The problem is, I get frustrated with NOT having the coping skills to deal with people. I don't tell people no. I don't stick up for myself. I let too many people take advantage of the giving side of me.  It's a shame when one feels like they have to become an uncaring individual in order to get any place in life. I refuse to let the world steal my sparkle. I am who I am and will remain who I am.

Just for one day I'd like save my heart from sadness. I'd like to be the one who walks away with no scars or scratches. But, how does one go about doing that without changing who they are? I bear the weight of 40 years of scars on my mind, body and soul. At any given point in time, it's too much to carry. Right now, it's too much.  

My goal out of life is to just be happy. If I could, for one moment in time, just be happy, everything would have been worth it.  

I'm a Mother. It's what I do.

Feeling like even though I'm doing all the right things, I'm always made out to be the bad guy. I haven't done anything to anyone but still, I'm to blame. I was told that I need to take a long look at myself in the mirror. Well, I did. Do you want to know what I saw? I saw a woman who loves her kids. A woman, who contrary to popular belief, is capable of making good decisions. When no one wanted to help me. When I was struggling to keep a roof over our heads, I did it... alone. I begged. I borrowed. I prayed. But I did it. Those four little kids are who they are because of ME. I did it. I sacrificed. No one else. Me. How dare anyone tell me I'm the mother I am because of money. When I had no money, I was the only person they had. No one was paying me to sit down every night and help them with homework. No one paid me to take them to the doctor. No one paid me to take Nate to football. No one paid me to get Isaiah a speech therapist. No one paid me to help Elijah through his depression. No one paid me hug Jaliyah a little bit tighter the night she was violated. I did it free of charge because I'm a mommy and it's what I do. It's my obligation. I'm a mother. It's who I am. You would think that the news I got would have them rejoicing but alas, it has them lashing out. Nothing is going according to their plan. It all backfired.  All the allegations have been proven unfounded. There's nothing keeping me from getting my babies back. I don't smoke. I don't drink. I don't do drugs. I don't party. I don't go to clubs. I cook. I clean. I do homework. I wash clothes. I'm a mother. It's what I do. I don't ask for compensation.  I don't expect compensation. I gave birth to them. They're mine. God blessed me with them because I was the best Mommy for the job. Before you tell me to look in the mirror, remember, when you start pointing fingers, there's one pointing at me but three pointing back at you.
I'll never let you take away my proudest accomplishments. I was a single mother, raising 5 kids on my own. No child support. No father who wanted to be involved. No one... but me. You can insult my character. You can insult my morals and values, but don't you ever insult my capabilities as a mother. You may be able to buy them all the greatest toys. You can make sure they have the coolest clothes and give them allowances for doing their chores...However, you will never buy their affection. At the end of the day, I'm Mommy. They love me because they KNOW who I am and what I've done for them. I wear the name proudly.

I'm a mother. It's what I do.

Time

I've always had the uncanny ability to single handedly dissect and over think any situation that I'm faced with. If you ask me where I get it from, I'll say it's a defense mechanism that "protects" my heart against the forces of evil. The forces of evil being anyone who has the unfortunate luck of knowing me. Yes, I said, unfortunate luck. I seem to wreak mental havoc on unsuspecting victims. Lord only knows how I can look sweet and innocent but pounce like I'm the FBI, CIA and Secret Service all in one seemingly tidy package.  My outlook is that everyone has a motive and it's to hurt me. I guess when I look back at my life I can't blame myself for concocting the notion. My track record speaks for itself. However, I don't want to talk about the past. I'm so tired of talking about all the stupid things that have made me a mental train wreck. Let's talk about now...

I'm sad. Just sad. I cry everyday. I sleep. I sleep because it's an escape from my reality. My reality is these four walls. They trap me in my thoughts. They torture me with what I should have done or could have done but didn't. They make me think. God, I'm so tired of thinking. Just for one day I'd like to take everything at face value. I want to believe that there is good in people. Just when I think I have a handle on things, my mind interferes and beats whatever it is I'm facing into the ground until it looks like hamburger meat. Do you know how hard it is to hear the words, I love you when you feel in your heart you don't deserve it? What does he see that I don't? Why can't I see it?  I feel so abnormal and twisted . I sometimes feel like I'd be better off alone. That way I won't hurt him. Maybe my kids ARE better off where they are. Maybe everyone knows something that I don't. I'm just not seeing it. I'm so tired of being broken hearted. Just one day I don't want to cry. One day, I'd like to wake up and NOT put on my game face. I don't want to have a plan. I want to just...be. I'd never let anyone walk my path. It's a scary place.

I've said it before and I'll say it again. "They" say time heals all wounds. What the hell do "they" know? "They" don't live my life. "They" don't see through my eyes. "They" don't love with my heart. "They" don't know me. "They" have no idea what time does for me. Time gives me more time to think. Thinking is what I try to escape. Time is not my friend.

I've learned that the world doesn't stop spinning and time doesn't stop ticking. My greatest fear is that I'm going to wake up one day and realize that I missed out on my life. I'm afraid that I'm going to lose my one amazing love because I couldn't truly see him for the wonderful, sweet and absolutely beautiful person that he is. My love. My protector. My provider. My strength. My best friend. My God given solace. The man who keeps my feet on the ground when I want to float away. I'm afraid the longer my kids are gone, they're going to forget me. They're not going to remember. Their innocent little minds will be clouded by what's going on and they'll be happy some place else. Time is not my friend.

I'm being held captive by my thoughts. I'm drowning and no one knows it.



“You never know beforehand what people are capable of, you have to wait, give it time, it's time that rules, time is our gambling partner on the other side of the table and it holds all the cards of the deck in its hand, we have to guess the winning cards of life, our lives.”  
~~José Saramago

Time Has A Way Of Changing Everything

When I was younger, I wasn't necessarily the prettiest, cutest, most fashionable, skinniest or even somewhat popular girl. I remember growing up and listening to my brothers and sister call me names like, "Tons of Fun or Miss Piggy", obviously making reference to my weight. To make matters worse, growing up "poor", Mom and Dad didn't have enough money to buy us new clothes for school. So, in essence, I was the poorly dressed, fat girl in school. I never wore make up or did my hair. Not a great combination. I was only given reference in school because I was my brother's sister. I had one friend and for the majority, spent my "free time" in school, talking to my favorite Criminology teacher. I was never one to get in trouble because in order to get into trouble, one needed to have some type of social life, which I didn't. I always remember thinking I was invisible. I even, at one point, resigned myself to never being married or having kids. Boys never paid me any attention. Back then, fat white girls were NOT the thing. I'm not saying it to diss anyone, just speaking MY truth. I hated myself. I hated the way I looked. I hated the way I dressed. I hated everything about my life. I remember day dreaming about the day I'd find my Prince Charming and he wouldn't call me names and he wouldn't care that I was fat. However, reality always had a way of creeping in. The loneliness and solitude were always so unbearable. Who would ever want a girl like me?

Fast forward thirty years later...

It's funny how things change. That lonely fat girl with no hope of ever being noticed, turned into a woman who can't escape the eyes of admirers. I'm not one to pat myself on the back... I don't think I'm better or worse than anyone else. The one thing that kept me enclosed in my own misery is the thing that has made me desirable. Gone are the days of being called "Tons of Fun". The term "Miss Piggy" has been replaced with "Curvy, Thick, Gorgeous, Beautiful, and Stunning".  I have absolutely no problem getting attention. I can walk out of my house wearing nothing more than a pair of shorts and a tank top and have some random person either asking for my number or wanting to give me theirs. However, Lord only knows, I will probably never see what others see when they look at me. I always knew it was going to take a very special man to chip away at my flaws to reveal the woman I really am.

Fast forward to my reality...

All the attention in the world doesn't mean a thing unless it's from the one person who means it. Being pretty is ok but being loved is what I want. I don't need a contact list a mile long because most men see just a pretty face or curves. No one wanted to delve deeper to see who I was on the inside. That once fat girl has turned into a woman who tries to see the glass as half full. She sees the good in everyone, although her eyes may be clouded. She gives her heart to those who appreciate it, loves without boundaries, and wants nothing but someone to understand her in return.

Time has a way of changing everything....

New Chapters

Wow, it's been a while since I've sat down at this laptop and blogged. I'm not exactly sure what's brought me here today but something was nagging at me. Maybe subconsciously I have something to say and this is the place to put the words out in the open. I've always found writing to be quite therapeutic.
It's been almost 6 years since my ex-husband and I split. I've faced more than my fair share of challenges in the adventure I call my life. I've struggled with relationships and being a single parent. I've struggled financially, emotionally, physically and mentally. For the majority, I've faced my struggles alone. I think deep down inside, I chose to face them alone. In doing so, there's no chance to be let down or disappointed by the actions of another person. Sometimes it's just better that way, right? As my "therapist" says, I have a tendency to self sabotage my life and my relationships. I have this, "I'll hurt you before you hurt me mentality." I guess that's just the defense mechanism I've managed to conjure up in my head within the last half a decade. It did it's job. I successfully remained completely single for 6 years. Sense my sarcasm?? I spent so much time being skeptical and cynical, that I forgot to slow down and smell the roses. I kind of feel sorry for those who have legitimately tried to get to know me. I had this wall up the size of a small country... without the perfect set of keys, no one was allowed to break the barrier. Which leads me to this....
Somewhere in this so called tragic roller coaster ride I call my life, God gave me a fairytale. Yup. Out of nowhere came this guy with the perfect set of keys that fit my safety net. He came in quickly...he became my rock. He soothed my fears, dissected my problems...he became my protector and provider. I sit back and giggle a little bit because he knows me. He knows my quirks, my thoughts and even my emotions just by reading my text messages. He's the one person that I know in my heart of hearts will never leave me... He's no quitter. He's strong, amazing and willing to go to bat for little ole me...the one person who I thought wasn't worth any man's time. I say all this with 100 percent certainty. There's no nagging voice in my head that says he's going to hurt me. There's no hesitations or second guessing when it comes to him... There's nothing but trust. Trust that he's the man I've always prayed for. Trust that he'll move a mountain to make sure I'm OK. Trust that he's my...everything. "They" say time heals all wounds... I say the right person willing to be patient does.
So, where am I now? Hmmm... I'd say, for the majority, I'm in a good space. I'm a work in progress. I can't say I'm "better" or "well"... however, I can say I'm better than yesterday but not as good as I can be tomorrow. I can go back and reread the chapters of my life but I'll never be able to rewrite them. The things I've experienced, happened. As brutal and sad as the reality is, they occurred. They'll forever be tattooed in my mind. However, I've decided to erase them from my heart. I'm turning new chapters. New chapters filled with positive adventures and energy. Trust me, I struggle every day. I try my best to put the negativity from my mind. I'm just very blessed to have someone in my life willing to be patient and realize that underneath this exterior, there's a woman who just wants to be happy. There's a woman inside me that's trying her damndest to break out of this untrusting exterior. I'm so very thankful for the chance he gave to me. I'm thankful that through all my "thinking" and "over thinking" that he's willing to fight for me. I'm thankful that he sees what others in the past haven't seen... for that, I can't do anything but smile :-)

A Father's Worth

This blog probably has nothing to do with the physical pain I went through when I was with my children's father, but, I think it fits nicely into the topic of domestic violence.

For the past week or so I've been feeling really bad because I'm unable to provide financially for my children. We struggle daily for basic necessities like toilet paper, sneakers and clothes.  Now that school is upon us, so are the stresses of September birthdays, school shopping...and eventually the holidays. I get down on myself quite frequently because as a mother, I should be able to provide these things.  Ask me how I've managed to keep my lights on and I'll tell you by the grace of God. I've become quite good at surviving by bare minimals...after my calculations, I'm not ashamed to say that my bills equal approximately $200 a month...and that's on a bad month. However, what kind of parent am I where I can't come up with $200 dollars? More times than not, I feel like the scum of the earth...inadequate...useless...pathetic..and shameful.  

I know if I were healthy, I wouldn't be in this position. I'd be able to work and give my babies everything that they need. BUT...circumstances have dictated that it's not possible. I'd trade my illness for the opportunity to walk out my door on any given day to work. Alas, my colon less body forbids it. It would rather have me vomit in the morning because my stomach refuses to digest my meal from the night before, and have me in the bathroom all day because my body can't or just won't digest any form of healthy food...than to lead any kind of functioning life. Just in case the thought popped in your head that I'm just lazy...please dismiss it because lazy, I am not.

Fast forward through my disability denials and the denials of any state aid because bureaucracy is the wart on the ass of society...Apparently a doctor saying that I'm unable to work just isn't good enough for the Gods of social services. According to them, I'm not disabled because Social Security has yet to deem me disabled. While I'm being denied help..A) my kids go without, and B) I can't afford the $15 dollars I need to pick up my 5 prescriptions that I desperately need to function on a 10% level...which I've been without for the past 2 months. However, my needs are a mute point at this time.

Fast forward again, to the actual purpose of this post... My children's father's inability to act and do as a father should. If he would put on his big boy undies and act like a 49 year old man, instead of 20 year old child, maybe...just maybe...my kids would have the things that they need.  Since when is it only one parent's responsibility to provide for any child? If that was the case, I would have gotten myself pregnant. So, because said "loser" would rather smoke crack, beat his girlfriend and drink himself to death, MY kids go without. He'd rather go to prison at the age of 49 than act like a grown man and take care of his responsibilities. If people would stop enabling his sorry ass, maybe he'd have to stand on his two feet. Please save the, "OMG, I can't believe she just said that" speech because ya'll know it happens. He deserves to be humiliated. He deserves to have people look at him like HE'S the scum of the earth...inadequate...useless...pathetic...and shameful. He's lucky I don't plaster his name and social security number all over my blog and say, have at it...BUT I'm not like that. I have a good heart. I do the things I have to do as a parent. I provide EVERYTHING within my means for my children. I DO IT!! I may feel bad because I wish I could do more...I may feel worthless and shameful..but I know in my heart of hearts...I'd do anything for my kids. I may not be able to sleep at night because I worry constantly about them; but, as long as I know I did what I could for that day, my guilt is forgiven. I wonder how many men can say the same.

In the words of Albany County Family Court Judge Margaret T. Walsh, "You can't make a man be a father."

No, you can't, but you can make him pay for his children.  

So I ask the question, "What is my children's father's worth?" Please don't have me answer. He's right up there next to my biological father...

Fooled Yet Again...

As much as we'd like to believe that our past experiences help us make better decisions in the future, I'm here to officially say that's not always the case.  Unbeknownst to most of my friends, up until a few short weeks ago, I was seeing this guy for a while.  After I left my ex husband, I promised myself that I'd never let another man abuse me; whether it be physical, emotional or sexual abuse, it was never going to happen to me again. Well, in theory that sounds like a splendid plan. Can't you just see the headlines? "Woman leaves abusive ex-husband a stronger and better person," Yeah, not so much. I found myself in a "relationship" with someone who never physically harmed me; but, would mentally torment me.  I wasn't skinny enough, smart enough, wealthy enough or beautiful enough. I wasn't all the things that he hoped I'd be. I wasn't perfect. I somehow mustered up the strength to end it before it turned physical...but I sit here with even more emotional scars and mental wounds.

I applaud women who are strong enough to realize that they're worth so much more. I wish with everything in my soul that I was one of them. My life is filled with so many broken dreams, broken promises and empty words. Do I have a sign on my heart that says, use and abuse me?

I don't know what hurts worse. Is it the fact that I actually believe all those things or is it the fact that I learned absolutely nothing from my ex? Do I want to be loved so much that I'd sacrifice myself for it? Am I destined to be this pathetic weak woman that others see me as? I can't seem to see past the nose on my face tonight...I feel so alone surrounded by so many good people.

What scares me the most is, no matter how hard I try, I can't seem to figure this out.