Replacements-

Nearly everybody knows that you can’t technically replace the people who have been in and out of our lives. it’s pretty impossible, since everybody is so different.

So, after the breakup with the ex, i never once thought to ‘replace him’. What i thought about instead, was how i could replace the home, the cars, the gaming systems…. how could i get back to the place that i was when i was with him? what could i do to ensure my stability to that end?

there were people in and out of my life at the time that could give me those things, but never once did i think about if i loved them or if they loved me. perhaps it could come in time. but… in this, they were looking for fun. sex. no strings attached. no replacements there.

i was ok with that, but what bothers me now, is why i never wanted to have the love that i thought i had lost. did i think it was impossible? was i too scared of being hurt? why was i being so materialistic when i have never really been materialistic in my life?

then my bf came along… he never promised me cars or a house… but he pursued me…. he lusted after me. he wanted me. even in our first months of pseudo dating, he knew he wanted to be with me.

and while it’s true that he may never be able to ‘replace’ my ex, he’s definitely made a great addition to my life, and has been a better man than my ex ever could have hoped to be.

 

 

*note…. i am not using the term ‘replace’ in a negative way. i am only saying that people cannot be replaced like material possessions can be- you can’t just go to the store and get another nearly exactly like it.  in our lives, we do no strive to replace the awful people with exact replicas (at least we shouldn’t- i know i am guilty of this with the father thing)… we want to ‘replace’ with something better…. it is also to be noted that sometimes there are no replacements at all, and that’s ok.

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being small

a thought has occurred to me over the years. the anxiety and the panic, and the ptsd, comes partly from my fear of being in the way.

my whole life i felt like a burden.. so much so, that when i was 12 i was attempting suicide.

so i suppose, when things ended with the ex, it was the last straw. that’s around when the panic started, at least to the point that it is today.

and everything since then, whether i put myself in the situation or not, has had an effect. something that made me want to try to be as small as possible, at least financially. I don’t wear makeup or regular clothes (night clothes) day to day- special occasions or dates. maybe. if somebody sees me in jeans they’re lucky.

so if i make myself as small as possible, i’m the least burden that i can be.

until it comes to my writing… then i want to be seen. 🙂

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Let’s see…

Therapy today went well. I used to have a standing appointment on wednesdays, because i liked the predictability of it. Nowadays, I take what I can get- i hide from therapy, and only make an appointment when i really feel the need-

For example- how you know whose face and voice just shows up in my head whenever he wants. compelling me to be aroused and/or touch myself. wanna talk about sick? that’s sick. (not as sick as him, surely). she told me that was incredibly normal, because at that stage in my life, i was becoming naturally sexually curious (as well as the curious of a probably already sexually abused girl) so i was, biologically, turned on.

like a long-acting, long-release poison pill. it got inside my brain and my body and twisted me up.  it made me so fearful of the idea of children that the guy and i tried for about two months, then quit. (you might have followed the “i might be pregnant” dilemma). i want them, but i don’t want them to suffer. and to be in this life is to suffer, horribly.granted, i am speaking from a malnourished perspective. i just think about all the predators that are undoubtedly out there, and no matter how well i try to prepare my kids, it can still happen to them. they can get raped, kidnapped, killed…. that’s not just ‘criminal minds’ talking. that’s reality. not to mention that i don’t want to be that mom who turns into super overprotective bitch mode when she sees her daughter hugging a man she likes/loves. platonically. fatherly.

the one who starts blaming the child for her very natural behavior. “Get away from him you little slut!” accusing that she is leading him on.

i don’t want to be that, but i desperately want to protect her. i don’t know how to do that; i didn’t ask to be born into this life, and he/she won’t have either.

it’s little consolation to know that her life would be better than mine, because it feels the risks are too risky.

on another note, as dr b is prone to do, i was more validated today. not that the guy doesn’t validate me, but let’s face it, he’s a bit of a smart ass and sometimes it’s hard to tell if he is joking or not.

dr b told me that something in me, in my life and childhood, made me decide that i wanted to fight. to be a survivor, and to make sure i was not the cause of anybody else’s pain; at least the kind of pain i suffered. I’m usually quick to apologize if i am being bitchy or if i play-slap too hard. i try not to condescend, but i know we are all guilty of that. i try not to use people, or abuse their presence in my life.

she even said how when i first started coming to see her, she was amazed at how much of a “phenomenon” i was. because of my background, statistically speaking, i should have ended up in a gutter. Drugs, alcohol, rape, prostitution…. killing.

and that, apparently, really surprised her. that’s kinda my shining moment of the day.

last thing….

i have been noticing, that there seems to be a bit of a trend on facebook to only validate and appreciate positive things in a person’s life/statuses.

everybody wants to support my losing weight, or lowering my blood sugar, but who is there when i am throwing up randomly at 5am? (other than bf). nobody. nobody even told me they hoped i feel better, or asked what was wrong (not that i knew).

so what’s the deal with that?

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Ugh, Men

FB Post

 

“just another venting; no accusations.

the problem with men is that they don’t focus on the issue; i say that i feel uncomfortable and don’t like that he is hangs out with a female ‘work friend’ more than he does me, and he says “i’m not gonna stop hanging out with her” i never asked him to stop, i just brought it to his attention that it was more than with me. when you spend 1/4 of your day with your girlfriend/fiance, only sleeping and eating, gaming, another 1/4 (or so) doing work stuff, and the rest of the time with another girl? no matter her age, looks or attractions? i see that as a problem. it doesn’t fix it to try to split your time. that looks even worse. i’ve seen the symptoms before; don’t make me live through that again.

also, don’t try to buy me off with jewelry >< that’s tacky. and suspicious as fuck.

however, feel free to buy me pretty sparkly jewelry just for the hell of it.”

 

rationally i understand that he’s hanging out with this work chick for work advice, or so that he can smoke inside and avoid the heat/humidity.

but when he continues to get so defensive over her, and keeps spending so much time with her like he does, it never makes me feel any better. i don’t know what is going on with him lately.

he also seems to think that i want him dead just so i can get his life insurance. WTF is that about? have i EVER seemed that fucking shallow? granted, there was one time we were in a fight and i said, as he was slamming out of the house, “i hope you crash!” but that was the one and only time i have ever said it and i felt horrible for it.

so where the hell is he getting these ideas?

why does it feel like he is avoiding me like the plague?

i have a friend i vent to once in a while, who seems to think i am in a verbally abusive relationship, because the defense mechanism the guy resorts to ends up making me feel like crying, if not making me cry outright.

i spent like 20 minutes crying the other night because i don’t know where this relationship is headed… i know we both want it to head towards a mutual future with children, maybe.

but i’m too old to be feeling jealousy like a goddamn school girl. if he doesn’t want me to think he is being suspicious, it seems like he would make more of an effort to prevent it. i can only do so much; i can’t believe him on my own. if he gives me reason to be suspicious, it seems moronic to just ignore it.

i also admit i have issues of my own- i saw a lot of the same behaviors in my ex before things ended…. i kinda ignored them… look what happened? things fell apart, and i still have no idea why. i know i wasn’t perfect, but he still never gave me any closure over it. i cried myself to sleep for months before it actually ended, and then for months afterwards.

the guy has never made me cry in our whole relationship as he has in these last few months.

he keeps saying if i just came up and hung out with him and the girl i would see i was worried about nothing. that’s not really the point. the point is, he is hanging around with another woman more than he is with me. this is his approximate schedule:

 

sleep, wakes up around 2-3, games or watches stuff with me til around 4:30/5, when he takes his shower for work…. in the office from 6-8, then with her from 8-?; i have literally been able to watch a full season of a show, or 2-3 movies, in the time he is with her. yes, in that time he is also working, but who does he go back to? her. not here. sometimes he is back around 10ish to eat, but then he is out again to do work around 10:15, then i don’t see him sometimes til 12-1a. not because he was working necessarily, but because i recently found out he’s been upstairs with that goddamn woman. i had been under the assumption that she went to bed early. because that’s what he told me. apparently not always. then, by the time he gets back, i am pretty much ready for sleep. know why? cause he spent all of my fucking goddamn awake time with her. not that it would make it any better for him to do it while i’m sleeping. which he does, at times.

if he wakes up any earlier than 2-3p, he goes into the office, then goes upstairs to her room- sometimes i am awake, sometimes i am not. when he is done up there, it’s usually in enough time for him to come down and take a shower to get ready for work… 6-8…. and the process starts all over.

now, here are some other facts, that i know should make me feel at ease, but don’t. she is 52, meth-mouthy, a smoker, has like 3 grown children…. these issues don’t make me feel any better. after all, he likes older women and wants kids. not to mention he has a bit of a fantasy about black women.

i have nothing against their friendship and i have nothing against the woman, personally. i have an issue with him spending more than half of every day with her. what he told me recently was that he was going to try to even up the time a little more. that he was going to try to make the time lean more in my direction.

EVERY DAY. if he really views this woman as a mother figure, why is he spending so much time with her? enough to make me jealous?

i’m too old and too tired for this kind of shit.

the only time i ever told him to stop hanging around somebody was when i witnessed, first hand, the abuse of a woman by one of his friends.

and i am not telling him to do that now- because i don’t see any reason for them not to be friends.

the point, as i wish to just drive home right now, is that he spends more time with her than he does his own fiance, then tries to distract me from the issue with the idea of jewelry.

if that doesn’t sound like the most suspicious thing at all, i don’t know what does.

 

ps, though- i’ll take the jewelry if it’s “just because” …. otherwise, i’m going to know/feel he is only doing it because he feels guilty for something.

 

 

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Lisa’s Box

There was a picture of my mother that i hadn’t yet decided whether or not i wanted to keep in that box that my sister dropped off for me… well… i decided i wanted it, so i had to dig through all the junk again. well, i actually took notice of what some of the papers were saying. They were love letters and crushed dried flowers of a relationship (marriage) my mother had after she left us… I don’t know what i am supposed to feel about that.

happy because she had somebody to make her feel happy and safe? or should i feel angry because she didn’t even have enough love to stick around for us? and that brings up other questions, such as…. should i be happy she left us because she DID love us enough to leave?

and honestly, right now, i just want to get plumb plastered… but… i am resisting the temptation. that was part of the problem of the people i grew up around. and, apparently my birth-father was alcoholic and i don’t want to fall into that trap…. drinking to make the pain go away… i want to confront it head on…. in a safe environment…. sorta….

i’m part wondering if i should at least keep the letters until i can see Dr. B again… hopefully she hasn’t given up on me, too.

I don’t know… i want to know… i want to fix it…. but… what if i can’t be fixed? or what if i get fixed and then i don’t know who i am anymore without all the pain and suffering? without all the mental anguish?

I mean… I’m so freakin screwed up i can’t even hold down  a job. every time i start to think i can handle it, i freeze and take a step or twenty back. i hide in my hole because i am not meant for society. i want to write my stories, poetry and books and be safe and sound in my own place. why is that too much to ask? maybe it’s not owed to me, but i think i deserve it… we all deserve a safe place.

 

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Surprise Visit

It appears my sister knows where i live, despite the circumstances. Either she’s keeping up with my blog, or keeping up with the bf’s facebook. she’d all but cut ties with me, and that i did for her. taking her off my facebook ensured i was no longer susceptible to her drama, hatred, excluding… whether inadvertent or not.

She dropped a box by the front office while the bf was checking somebody in and said rudely, “make sure ______ gets this.” No hellos, no how are you, no see you soons.

the box was full of our mother’s stuff…. and a note from her that showed none of the disdain or disgust she’d showed me in previous text messages. she signed it “take care, love, _____” and i don’t get it. i really don’t. i understand that she’s being respectful of the fact that the woman was my mother too, but she didn’t even wish me a happy birthday. she can’t even drop me a text now and then?

anyway…. going through our mother’s stuff was … kinda cool. turns out i am a lot more like her than i thought. artsy, whimsical, fantastical… very in tune with our spiritual side (most of the time). i came across an old report card… you know, those blue folded cardboard numbers. 1989…. i was in third  grade. and my grades proved what kind of turmoil i was in at home; even my reading/writing scores were apparently below average.

anyway…. i pretty much have everything i want of our mother, so i will likely toss the rest. there are candle/soap molds, a bunch of hair things, a few purses…. even a couple pictures of people i’ve never seen, and two of her. i don’t know. is it finally time to cut ties with her, too?

i can’t…. and as much as i think i had, i can’t with my sister, either. we’re all tied to the past, and as much as we hate to say so, the past is part of what makes us who we are.

and you know what? if my sister DOES read this… i do love you… more than anything. i forgive you for most everything, and have always looked up to you as my hero and idol…. i really only began to look at you as human, but that doesn’t make me think of you any less. and you know what? tricking me into getting drunk and then throwing those questions at me, so that you can get the answers you wanted or were expecting? not cool.

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emotions are real

have you ever comfort eaten until you wished your stomach would explode, and then some?

i’ve  been feeling that lately. the last two days….. or so.

i can sort of pinpoint why- i mean, i’m missing having a family… and the friends i consider my family are sorta drawing away from us for some reason. we only live 15 minutes apart now… they have two cars…i have none, and no license.

but it’s more about family … i’m going to feel like a part of me is missing. yes, i could get caught up in “i make my own family” “my friends are my family” …. all that, which i do, mostly. but i still have a god-damn hole in me.

i have a lot of god-damn issues, and every time mother’s/father’s day comes along, that hole gets a little bigger, and i feel that much more hollow.

add to that the fact that i not only erased my ‘sister’s’ number from my phone, i finally took her off my facebook list.

i’ll be damned if i let her continuously hurt me with her statuses that purposely cut me out of her family, and things that she will never answer me about (‘my physical pain is gone, but my emotional pain is still here’) … really? don’t fucking post things you don’t want people to comment on. i think i mentioned how she called me “negative” in her life…. and never said what the FUCK that meant.

i only ever tried being there for her. SHE’s the one who ignores me and takes the word of other people over mine. there was the one time, when we were precariously housed, that she actually wrote some kind of letter to the people we were staying with, dogging and belittling me, telling them to ‘be careful’ of me…. whatever the hell that means.

and it’s hard to see that she’s cut her ties with me, without explanation, when i try. i put forth the effort, and she’s just .. done. i mean, even when i was with the Bitchies, i NEVER cut her or our brother out, and she so obviously is determined to do just that. i always was very proud to include them into my family, as i was proud to include the Bitchies.

I don’t really know… I feel so very lost, all the time.

the last thing i want to do is have children to try to fill that hole or to try to redeem the sins of the fuckholes who screwed me over.

i want to feel full and loved… and my bf gives me that, as do my two or three friends; when they are around.

i want more friends, i want more family… i want to be needed more than i am. it’s just not enough anymore.

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wow… how long has it been.

quite some time, i would imagine.

well…. i suppose you know there’s a new damn roommate in the picture. in case you need to catch up, though, she was being kicked out of the ‘apartment’ off the back of our house, and was given only 10 days to vacate. the fiance and i, being the good people we are, said she could have our couch for a few days until she got her shit together. well, a few days turned into her moving in, with the promise that she would be out by october, no later, and to not worry about our night-time rituals (hanging out, drinking, smoking, whatever), because her daughter would only be here twice a week, and she had earplugs….. october came and went, and she said, “oh it will be just a little longer.”

fine… whatever… none of the rest of us are heartless, you know this.

well, now it’s november (practically december) and she’s still here. she’s still not taking care of her shit, her daughter is here at least four times a week now, waking up early and running around the house screaming…. the little twerp doesn’t even know how to wipe herself though her mom claims she’s potty trained. know how i know this? me and the fiance (and the others, a few times, other than her mom) have been woken up by her screaming, at the top of her lungs, “Mommmy!!! MommY!!!!! MOMMYYY! I MADE POOPY!!”

she has walked into peoples bedrooms, and into the bathroom without knocking… and, yes, i admit, the poor girl has nightmares, but she is up late much of the time, squealing and screaming. the other night, i heard her whimpering and whining, “no, mommy… why mommy! what are you doing mommy!” which of course sets me off, which triggers me to ask on facebook for advice (a very VAGUE QUESTION). the mom got paranoid and asked me about it, so without giving her too many details, i apologized and told her i was just concerned, and if she could clear it up for me that would be great.

she cleared it up for me then demanded i remove the post. Of course i don’t remove it. a) it’s my goddamn page, b)i am only friends with one person on fb that she is, that might even remotely read into it, c)i didn’t even name names (which i wouldn’t do anyway). it’s my post, if i want it on my page, i have that right. otherwise, un-friend me. get out off my page, out of my life, pack your bags… whatever it takes for you to feel comfortable. if you don’t like it, that’s your problem, not mine. I’m tired of stepping on eggshells. I feel i have been more than understanding and generous with my time and patience.

dishes were in the sink (both sides) for at least a month… she leaves shit all over the stove, she takes over any and all open space on shelves, in the fridge, the freezer…. and then complains it’s not enough room. The good roommate and i have both attempted to remedy this, but to no avail. this chick is like an evil, manipulative little sponge.

and half the time i like her, i think she’s a cool chick and i’m sympathetic to her and her daughter. but there is a line. she crossed the line at least three times this week.

once with the dishes, and twice with her daughter… she fucks her boyfriend and smokes pot in her room while the kid is in there with her, she drugs the kid so the kid will sleep. the little girl said, while the two were getting busy  and moaning, “I know what you’re doing to mommy, daddy.”

it’s disgusting.

Not only that, but the damn girl is wanted for FTA or some shit… the law is looking for her, and I’m trying to be understanding but one of these days i *will* call on her.

there have been a number of times where she has bitched about being in the shower when she comes home from work, since we should automatically know when she will be getting home and when she will want to take said shower (though she spends at least an hour in there every day, and leaves her child in the bath unattended). She tries to make sure we’re all quiet in the house so that she and her daughter can sleep, though they do not return the favor. I changed my entire night-time routine for this bitch… because i didn’t want to be a nuisance. what the FUCK.

so… yet another one we have turned against us. somehow. i guess expecting people to return the respect we give them is too much. At least the good roommate is working out well.

 

on the other hand, i am trying to determine whether or not i want a baby, and the fiance wants one, which is fine. i have been doing a lot of thinking about it, and we have decided to try, once i get my iud out. however, once i announced this, the sister who could basically care less about me any other time (she still hasn’t congratulated me on my engagement, still won’t answer my drunk texts), decides to message me and say some shit about how i shouldn’t have a baby, because i’d be picking up a loaded shotgun. not because of my mental health, mind you, but apparently because i’m a big fat whale who would die if i had one.

on one hand, i see the point, but on the other, shouldn’t she be trying to help? not only that, but i have lost fifty lbs since january. so fuck you, sister.

last thing is something that happened last week…. my fiance was out of town for the night, looking for a new car (our friend from jail is out now and picked almost right back up where he was before finding and flipping cars), and they found one. now… there was still work to do, so he stayed through the next day. the morning of that day, i was surfing facebook, and found something i thought might be inspiring… it was actually depressing. It was about rape victims who were holding signs of the things their rapists said to them…. many of the them hit close to home, and made me sad, but the real shock came when i read a sign that said, “You have no idea what you do to me.”

now this phrase, upon reading it, threw me.

i had heard it before, and completely blocked it from my memory. when i read it, i immediately had a flashback and began to cry. i was upset to the point of trying to overeat (i’ve been doing well), and cutting myself. during that time, i kept myself from doing either, but went back over all the memories i have of telling people what happened to me.

that phrase was something i’d never told anybody about, because, apparently, it was so traumatic and painful…. i don’t even know how i could have forgotten that.

i still can’t understand why it wasn’t anywhere in my databanks when i was telling the police, and the therapists and the court. how could something be so… scarring?

i wanted to die.

i still haven’t been able to talk to the fiance about it, although he and the good roomy helped me through it without knowing too many details. so this is the first time he is hearing about it, and i suppose the best… considering if i were to utter the words, i actually *would* die.

 

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falling

for as long as i can remember (in my adulthood), i have been taking in strays. strays meaning animals or humans, take your pick.

in this case, i mean humans. i don’t mind helping people who need it, especially since we were helped (the once) when we were homeless. but why? is it because i feel guilty for being a foster child and this is my way of paying back the system? is it because i know what it’s like to have nothing and therefore feel the need to give?

in my younger days, i had no problem giving a friend a place to stay, but as i’m getting older, and more frustrated with my recovery, i’m finding that i am too worried, or too paranoid to do this. (this btw makes five people plus a little one some of the time)

yet i still am. and i just want to hide.

i don’t want to be around her, or her daughter, despite the progress i have made. i feel maybe there is too much pressure to be social, or to offer my services as a babysitter (which i can no longer do… not for long periods of time). i just don’t have the patience for it. especially if the child requires more attention than i have or care to give. yes, i know that’s horrible to say, but it’s not anything personal. it’s the fact that i’m old(er), fat(ter), and have other things i’d rather be doing.

for example, today, i’ve kinda been on a writing spree, and i cannot write when i am taking care of a child… not even my own! so i’m finding i’m worried i will grow to resent the very people i (and the bf) are trying to helP!

i feel the house getting smaller, and the rope around my neck squeezing… forcing me back into the hole i’ve been trying so hard to crawl out of. people are getting upset with me again because my panic attacks are returning to the higher extreme with force.

i still want to look for work because i can’t stand not having any money of my own- it all goes to bills! every once in a while if we scrimp i can use my money for a meal here or there, or maybe to buy a friend a gift or card…. but i need freedom while also retaining my safety net.

and i have no idea how to do that when i’m actually THROWING myself back into it.

i feel weak sometimes because while i’m confronting a lot of my childhood fears and anguishes, my adulthood suffers. my independence is gone.

i haven’t been to see the therapist in a long while now, and it’s partly because i don’t know where to go from here. i’m stagnating.

i’m supposedly losing weight, i’ve been out more to swim/exercise, to sing karaoke and drink… but what is that in the scheme of things?

i constantly question my love and my relationship, comparing it against those i feel are better and more secure than mine. do i really want to get married because i love him and can see myself long term? or is it because i want the excitement of marriage and leading up to it? do i know whether he’s the one?

i don’t know. nothing is so certain to me, and i wish it would be.

i want to be the girl who knows, beyond the shadow of a doubt, no matter what their past is. i want to be damaged but still know that yes, this man is mine, and he is my world and i love him!

but i don’t! and the problem is, i don’t not know, either!

just because i love to take care of him and do for him, doesn’t always mean it’s “right”… it just means that’s all i’m good at.

i’m a great domestic… but… where does that leave me?

 

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mother/father day

i love that people have these mother’s/father’s day sentiments, but i’m definitely very jaded and bitter about these days. why should i celebrate people who were never there and left in the most crucial moments of my life?

yes, i say i have closure over my mother, and care no more about finding my father, but… i think i’m really just lying to myself.

not only that, but every mother and father i’ve had since them, have been serious let downs. grooming, abusing and trying to fuck me? not to mention the Bitchies who were masters of manipulation.

so do i wish mothers and fathers out there a happy day? you bet.

do i feel left out because i have neither, and am not a mother myself? yep.

will i ever feel complete?

time will tell.

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