The things that mold me

March 21, 2019

 

I think I have writers block when I am in Roanoke. I stay distracted with the kids’ sports, their school activities, their extra-curricular activities & work. It is so easy for me to just ignore all of the stuff rolling around in my head. That is, until I get behind the wheel of my car and head south. I assume it would be the same if I headed north, but I don’t ever tend to go that way. I always wind up South. Perhaps because everybody knows North Carolina is my favorite state ever and I will live here one day.

I packed up this morning, dropped the little one at Preschool, said goodbye to the others & headed south. I only got about 20 minutes from home before the thoughts bottled up in my mind just rushed to the center of my attention. I had a beautiful 3-hour drive to sort out how I truly and honestly feel about some things that I have tried so hard to ignore. Since writing is the outlet I use most, and by far the safest & most productive outlet I have, I’m going to write. I apologize in advance because I feel certain there will be a lot of skipping around.

 

I have a really bad habit of just stopping something when it gets too overwhelming for me. If I can’t stop (you know, like raising kids when they get too overwhelming) then I just tend to shut down & stop putting forth effort. It usually doesn’t last very long.  It dawned on me this morning that I have been a single mom now for almost 6 years. I never expected to be a single mom at all so most certainly I didn’t expect it to be 6 years. I suppose I haven’t really stopped to contemplate on that fact because I was in a relationship for almost half of those years. Recently, I stopped going to therapy, again. Things got tough. They got overwhelming because we were making progress. I was facing things. I was learning things about myself & learning things about what I have allowed to take over my mind and my life. I didn’t like it. So, I stopped. This isn’t the first time either. I did a 2-week intense day treatment therapy a few years ago and I felt like I really made a big leap in my recovery during that time, but instead of sticking to it after the treatment ended, I stopped because it was hard. It was emotionally draining.

 

I was talking to a woman that I met years ago during a very dark time in my life when we were both experiencing losses. She became such a wonderful and sweet friend. We were talking about this amazing new project she has started to do & about how she is feeling today, as tomorrow is her sons 5^th birthday & she was reliving what she was told 5 years ago on THIS day. That her son had no heartbeat. She began this terrible dark and painful journey. We were saying this morning how it’s a feeling you just can’t describe to others and we exchanged very few words about it because there just was no need. We both know the feeling. We both know the pain. There was no need for talking about it or re-living it out loud. It was as simple as “ I get it. I am thinking about you & praying for you”.

It made me think about the day everything changed for me.  Part of what is so hard for me in therapy right now is that my therapist wants me to acknowledge and accept the events in my life that changed me. In other words, acknowledge where I got stuck. ACCEPT the event that changed the course of my life. It’s hard to admit this, but, I have a very difficult time now feeling the feelings I felt back on that day in 2011. Not that I want to ever feel that way again, but it bothers me that I can’t really remember what the dark felt like. I remember the emotion. I remember every moment of the day. I remember the words that were said. However, I can’t feel the way I felt then. It makes me feel like I have lost that part of the boys. 

I believe that the death of the boys is the event that started my long path of self-hatred & co-dependency. I felt defined by their death. Somewhere in my subconscious, I convinced myself that I was nothing because I couldn’t give them life. 7 months later, that was confirmed to me again at the birth and death of Maddox.

Between June of 2011 and November of 2012, I went from a happily married mom of 2 growing and healthy boys, to a separated, mom of 2 hurting children and 3 dead children & in a high risk pregnancy, alone. I was searching for someone to make me whole again. I didn’t properly grieve the loss. I not only lost the boys, I lost my husband and best friend. I lost the ability to be a good mom. I lost the desire to care anything about myself. I wanted to feel happiness so badly that I filled my life with all of the wrong things. Then, when this pregnancy was a success, I didn’t know what to do with myself. Honestly, I didn’t expect to carry this child to term. I fully expected to be in the same place I was previously. I did not mentally or emotionally prepare to be a new mom again. Even more so, I didn’t emotionally prepare to be a new mom ALONE. I created all of these validating reasons in my head for why I wasn’t worth the ground I stood on. I couldn’t do what moms are supposed to do, and protect my kids. I couldn’t be a good enough wife to keep my husband and best friend, those things made me a worthless mom. Who would ever want a single mom of teenagers and a baby?

 

Skip ahead a few months & in the midst of having a newborn, I met someone. The day I met him, I knew that things would never be the same. We had so much in common. We had the same twisted sense of humor. He was everything I was not. He was incredibly smart, incredibly relatable. We had conversations that were just so profound, I learned something every time we were together. He challenged my mind. He always had the right words to say. We never argued, we never disagreed. He communicated better than anyone I had ever known. I felt safe. I felt complete.  Along with these great things, also came some challenges. We were polar opposites. Im a city girl, he was a back woods country guy. He knew survival skills; I knew how to call people if I needed something. He was hands on with nature and reptiles. I was hands OFF both of those things. I enjoyed learning about things that were important to him, but that was a mutual respect we had. He made sacrifices for me & I made some for him. It worked. As time went on, we had a few bumps in the road but my feelings stayed true thru all of it. I can look back now and see how wrong things really were. There are types of people in this world that just thrive on hurting others. They have this knack for finding people that are already down on their luck, and they abuse them for their own gain. Then there are people in this world that just aren’t strong enough to demand better of others. I am that person.

I was getting the attention I so badly wanted in my life. I accepted all of the things that weren’t perfect because I just wanted to be whole again. Disclaimer: I was NOT a perfect girlfriend. I am not placing blame anywhere.

Less than a year ago, we were looking at wedding venues. I had found a wedding dress, we had looked at flowers & started making plans. We had even looked at houses and land to move our new big family into together. But, just as quickly as it started, it ended. Confirming my worthlessness, I wasn’t his only girlfriend. Within days of figuring it all out, he had moved her into his home.

 

That was another type of very dark place for me. I allowed myself to be treated like the worthless person that I felt that I was. I forgave way more than I should have. I overlooked a lot of behavior that I shouldn’t have. I sacrificed in other parts of my life to make him happy. I thought having him was what completed me.

I not only lost that relationship, I lost another family. I fell in love with his kids. They were treated like my very own. I fell in love with his family.

He moved on with his life, replacing me with someone else long before our relationship was even over. Once again, I was left watching his world keep spinning & it felt eerily the same as going thru my divorce 5 years ago.

Its like good things start to happen, I start to feel happiness again and it gets stripped away in a harsh and unforgiving way. Every time. My heart is cracked in so many places that I just feel too exhausted to try some days.