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Shut The Door

Now that the “cat is out of the bag” so to speak, I can also say that the drama was just getting started back then. How so much has changed in almost two months. Never in a million years would I have imagined having to witness some of the stuff that I’ve had to recently. I also never pictured being the person who sat silently while their ex poured their heart out about a baby and his disastrous relationship with his girlfriend, K. Even during some of the conversations we have now, it sometimes feels like an out of body experience. “Will K be coming to Thanksgiving dinner? Do they need to plan for the kids to be there?” and “Maybe she’s not the only one that needs to grow up if your relationship is going to work?” are two statements that have come out of my mouth tonight alone, and it feels so trippy. Sometimes, I sit and playback the conversations in my head and wonder who the hell I am and where the fuck did I misplace my dignity & self-respect? Then I remind myself that this isn’t just about me anymore.

So yes, things have been rather intense lately. There was a threatened miscarriage & hemorrhaging. Em was finally given the news about K’s pregnancy and she wasn’t exactly thrilled. Then there was police involvement, and a CPS investigation opened up on K, which is still active. Also, the reason why I can’t say much, just in case. There’s been an order of protection put in place and it came to light that there were also false accusations that were made. This was followed up with a breakup, a court order, and then K moving away. There’s been a lot of lying in between, and some pretty ridiculous behavior from both of them. Death threats were made against Beau by an ex of K’s and not so shockingly they mentioned knowing where I lived. That was a whole other ordeal. Beau’s house was broken into and a lot of things were doused in gasoline. Not even joking. Appointments were set with lawyers, and there have been visits with Beau’s probation officer. Police were called for a second and third time. Then, last week there were threats of abortion. Because, you know, treating a baby as a pawn in a game is totally healthy. And throughout all of this, Beau & K are off/on depending on the day. To add to the chaos I was also informed by my counselor that I could be pulled into the CPS investigation because K mentioned that Beau had another child. So, if they decided to look into both parties a bit deeper then they could very well show up at my home. And even though I know I’m not doing anything wrong, that is the LAST thing that I need right now.

This is why I’ve done the best that I can to move forward, and stay out of Beau and K’s business. As in, not putting my two cents in or giving advice. I’ve made myself compartmentalize all of my feelings about the situation too. Back in October, it took me a good two weeks of processing before I felt okay again after being informed about the pregnancy. Thankfully, one of my best friends sat with me through some of the darker days. Forcing me to purge all of the thoughts and feelings I had, without judgment. They patiently sat with me to watch countless cheesy movies while also allowing me to cry when I was feeling really sad. And they served as a tether that pulled me back down when my mind started drifting off. A grounding presence when everything around me felt like it was self-destructing with every move I made. I am forever grateful to this best friend of mine because without them I feel like I would have let my depression consume me a lot longer. But after two weeks of grieving and having some really amazing support from those closest to me, I was finally able to move past the sadness and anger. I fully accepted that this was out of my control. And the only thing I could really do was just be there for emotional support if either Beau or K needed it. Not that K would ever accept it, but I still needed to be open to her. I also needed to pray for this baby that was about to come into the world. That nothing bad would happen going forward, and that he/she was able to come into this life as healthy as possible despite K’s lack of self-care during this pregnancy.

By nature, I’m a worrier. I stress over things, and I go over so many different scenarios. I obsess over tiny little details and get fixated on what could have been done differently. Unlearning this way of thinking, and trusting that God has a plan has been one of the hardest things for me to do. And saying little prayers here and there is one of the few things that have been helping me get through it. It’s allowed me to think more positively about the future. It’s allowed me to accept that sometimes we don’t get what we want. Instead, we receive what we NEED. Everything comes on its own time, and when I start to feel those overwhelming emotions I just need to let them go. Instead of dwelling on them, I pray for my family. For Beau and K. For my nephew and my parents. And I pray for my daughter and her soon-to-be half-sibling. That they are allowed to be in our lives, for my daughter’s sake as well as their own. It’s also made me realize that I needed prayer for myself as well. And to be okay with asking others to keep me in their prayers during this time. Because I’m going to need God’s help in whatever comes next. As accepting as I am about the situation now, I know that there are still certain things that will come up that will feel like someone is pouring salt on an open wound. Like the day I was shown the sonograms. That was a pretty intense moment. Then there was the moment when I had to see K with a baby bump and knowing that I’d probably never get to experience that ever again definitely stirred up some hurt. Jealousy and anger too. But the next milestone will be finding out the gender, and I’m not sure if I’m ready for that yet. If K’s having a boy I feel like that will hurt me so much more than if she were to have a girl because I wanted to be the one to give Em a baby brother. As if I had any kind of say in that, to begin with. So, I’m constantly having to tell myself that this is in God’s hands now. The only thing I can really do is pray and give it over to his plan. 

On top of everything going on, did I mention that Beau’s currently sleeping on my couch at night? Since K wasn’t paying the bills and hadn’t been for the past month, all of the utilities were turned off. When we had below-freezing temperatures last week I allowed him to crash on my couch and to store some of his equipment in my shed in the backyard. That’s when he informed me that two weeks ago he was told by his landlords that they would not be allowing him to renew his lease. Of course, none of this is my responsibility and I’m fully aware of this. I’m also not naive enough to believe that Beau had no idea that bills were not being paid. However, that didn’t stop me from feeling pretty bad about him not having heat, electricity, or running water. I did tell him that this was temporary, and only for getting rest at night. If he’s not here by the time Em and I are ready for bed then he has to find someplace else to go. I also made it very clear that I expected him to have a plan by this weekend because my couch was only available for so long. And I really need to get back to my own life. A life without all of the petty drama and negativity that he can’t seem to stay away from. But do you wanna know something interesting? Our time together has actually made me realize a few things. It’s shown me that the person who stands in my kitchen, who sits on my couch, who cracks jokes with Em, or occasionally, I catch watching me as I fold laundry - is not the same person I married eleven years ago. I can see the subtle changes in his face, his demeanor, and the more drastic ones in his eyes. He’s not the same person that I fell in love with all of those years ago. And while I will always love him, always wanting the best for him, somewhere along these past two months I did what I never thought I’d ever be able to do. I uncurled my fingers, wiped away the tears, and let “us” go. I let go of the possibilities and the “what could have been's”. And y’all, I survived it. I quietly, but firmly, shut the door on that life and I finally said goodbye. 

Thanksgiving Day 2016

Wordless Wednesday

Finality

written on 10/7/19

On Saturday night, I had the metaphorical rug pulled from underneath me. Again. It had already been an emotional day and I was just coming off of one pretty intense anxiety attack when my phone pinged. And just like that, I felt like my world was crumbling all over again. My heart felt like it was going to jump out of my throat, my hands went numb, and the tears just started to fall. I could taste the acid of my vomit stinging my throat as it made its way up and I clamped my mouth shut. My thoughts raced as I let out an angry growl, and I could feel the anger and sadness building in my chest. I felt sick to my stomach and I shook as I sat in my car. It took a dose of my anxiety medication, and a lot of deep breathing to finally calm down. I started trying to ground myself with anything that I could touch; the steering wheel, my necklace. I sat in my running vehicle just staring for what felt like hours. In reality, it was only thirty minutes because my phone pinged notifying me that it was time to put on a brave face and pick up my daughter. I had to swallow the pain and numb myself to the news I had just received. This was only the beginning of the hurt to come, though. But I couldn't allow myself to breakdown in front of Em again.

There were a lot of “I’m so fucking sorry.” and “I don’t want this.” There was, “We don’t even know if it’s mine.” and “She’s not even a mom to her own kids, I don’t want her having one of mine.” And the one that drove a knife right through my side was, “They’re not my family. She’s nothing. I don’t even like them; you and Emery are my family.” And the only thing I could think to say was, “It’s too late to take it back now…” You see, about the middle of September, Beau seemed to have this realization. He called in the middle of the night, and he asked about getting help. About how he wanted to do better for our daughter. He had said that the life he was living was not the one that he wanted. At 2 am, these all seemed like really positive things and they gave me a bit of hope. Not for us, but for him. That maybe he was finally starting to see that the path he was on was only going to lead to more bad things. And if he actually got help, then maybe a few years from now we could try to put some of the shattered pieces back together. Not necessarily in order to get back together, though I may have been open to it later down the road I wouldn't really hold my breath. Instead, I just wanted him to be better. Happier and healthier. Because I want him to be in a good place. I don’t want to see him addicted to drugs or struggling. I can’t stand to see him hurting. Hell, I can’t even be angry at him for any of what has happened, including this. Instead, I just break my own heart, over and over again, because I know that there is very little that I wouldn’t do for this man. Even now. 

In all honesty, my initial reaction was not one that I’m proud of. “Well, there are three options,” I thought to myself when Beau said, “I don’t want this.” Later, I asked for forgiveness because, in my heart, I know that there are only two. This was just my knee jerk reaction of “fixing” his problems for him. But if I'm being honest, deep down, I always knew that this would happen. I just thought I’d have more time. More time to move on, and be okay. More time to get used to this new life. I was barely in the process of getting information on the annulment process. I was finally off of all my medication. I was starting to feel calm and happier. I felt really good about the boundaries I had set up while still being there for him in reasonable ways. And I knew in my heart, that one day he’d probably find someone that he loved just as much as I had loved him. That they’d get married and have kids. But this? I didn’t want it to happen like this. For a child to be brought into this world by off/on addicts. To have a young girl for a mother who already puts her other children off on anyone who is willing to take them. They bounce between dads, relatives, and friends because she can’t bother to be a full-time mom. And I didn’t want Em to have a half-sibling that she may not ever be able to see or have in her life because they could get taken away or sent off elsewhere. And if I’m being really, really honest, I never wanted to have to share the gift of motherhood that he gave me, with anyone else. At least not yet; not now. But here we are...

The timing of this just seemed so cruel to me and I felt myself slipping right back into my depression. I’ve spent the last 48 hours crying. It comes in waves and sometimes I have no idea why the tears choose to come at the most inconvenient times. Like yesterday morning, when I decided to run bleachers. My vision became blurry, I suddenly felt like I couldn’t breathe, and it was followed by a lot of sobbing. When I finally got to the bottom of the last row I just slumped over. Snot running down my nose; eyes swollen. Then when I went to my parents' house in order to get Emery about forty minutes later and my mom asked me, “What’s wrong? I can feel that there’s something really wrong.” I couldn’t keep my composure for more than five minutes. I just stood there in front of her with tears running down my face as I prepared my coffee. Shaking as I stirred the liquid in my cup for what seemed like hours. And she hugged me as I let it all out. “Oh, mija, we all hoped. We prayed for you and Beau to be a family again someday. But now you really have to let go,” she said between my sobs. And somehow that made me feel both better and worse.

Later that night, I sat in a daze just staring out the window with my thoughts racing. A baby with someone else makes our end so final. Permanent. It extinguishes any flicker of light that was still glowing. And I have no one else to blame for these hurt feelings but myself. Because this is what hope gets you. This is what the painful side of loving someone unconditionally looks like. And this is the hurt you go through when it’s unrequited. This is so much more painful than I ever imagined. And I’m so tired of feeling it. Of dealing with it. I’m so tired of hurting. I just want it to stop. I want this to be over.

Listen

No One Tells You

Photo by Kelly Sikkema on Unsplash

written on 8/9/19

When I realized my marriage was deteriorating, I kept thinking about something one of Beau’s uncles told us during our California trip several years ago. He said, “I’m proud of you both. I’m proud of you for sticking through it. For not giving up. Family is such an important thing and you’re doing this for her. She’ll grow up with two parents who love her and she’ll have a family. So, I’m really proud of you.” And those words stayed with me during that entire trip. They still linger in my heart to this day. When Beau and I first got together I was welcomed into his family with open arms. In the blink of an eye, I had double holidays, birthdays, and cookouts to attend. I had gained an extended family and in case you haven’t noticed, my family is a really big deal to me. 

So, I carried those words with me. With every slamming of a door. Every object thrown in anger. The names and the yelling. The drugs, affairs, and altercations. I would think back to those words and I’d tell myself, “Not yet. You can’t let go yet.” I kept trying and trying to make things work. To put a bandaid over what was happening, and tell myself that if I just stayed the course everything would work out. It would get better, I just had to be patient. But it wasn’t. And when the time finally came to uncurl my fingers I felt like I had let them all down. I told myself, “This is it. You’re going to lose so much more than just him.” And I wasn’t necessarily wrong. I was told so many times, “It doesn’t matter, you and Em will always be family.” I wanted to believe those words every time I forced myself to smile through the sadness. I wanted to believe that one of them would tell B, “You may not want her in your life but she will always be family to us.” Not surprisingly, other than with my sister-in-law, this didn't ever happen. Instead, I slowly started hearing less and less from them. And I knew that things were going to change, but even when you expect it, that pill can still be a hard one to swallow. 

You see, no one tells you how much it hurts to be slowly pushed out of a family. Sure it’s one that you married into, but there are still bonds that you create with them. No one tells you how much it sucks when texts go ignored and plans you ask to make never actually happen. No one tells you how much it hurts to find out that not only is your former spouse replacing you, but eventually, so will their family. Soon this other “woman” will be the one invited to dinners, holiday get-togethers, birthday celebrations, and cookouts. She’ll be sitting in rooms and taking up space that used to belong to you. And the only reason you’ll ever be contacted by that former family is to find out if your daughter will be allowed to accompany her father and his girlfriend to whatever family function is taking place if it's not his weekend. No one tells you how upsetting it can be to see your place within a family be erased. To see someone else fill that void as if you had never been there at all. No, no one bothers to tell you any of that at all.

Having to accept this truth, this untangling of our family ties has not been an easy thing for me to deal with. I hope that one day when the dust settles I’ll still have some of them in my life. At the very least, I hope Em still has them in her’s. But I also hope that we can all get through this awkward phase one day; this in-between. I hope that one day I won’t be sad over the ones who chose to distance themselves but instead be grateful for the ones who still found it in their hearts to love me when everything fell apart.

Wordless Wednesday

My Brain is A Mess Right Now

It's November. IT'S. FREAKIN'. NOVEMBER. When the hell did this happen? We're about to close out 2019 and I honestly feel like my progress this year was very minimal. I stayed stuck for a long time. I closed myself off to a lot of things. And now that the year is coming to an end I kind of feel like, overall, everything is a jumbled mess. I'm trying to make up for all of the lost time even when I know it's impossible. When I know that it's probably for the best that I just slow down instead. But that's just not in my nature, unfortunately. 

I've gone back and edited several of my drafts, so you'll see several of those going up within this month. They're not the greatest, but just know they were coming from a pretty raw place. And I've edited them to a point where I'm comfortable with the information that I'm sharing. Also, I have an extremely generous friend in my life that recently gifted me a Canon camera which has been soo fun to use! The pictures come out so beautifully detailed and I'll definitely be throwing up some of those photos soon. I currently work on a Chromebook, which if you know anything about them then you know my struggle right now: minimal storage space; horrible editing software. So, the editing processes has been a pain in the ass and extremely slow. BUT I'm grateful for what I have. Just know that this is why it may take me a little bit more time to get things edited, but it's worth it to me in the end. 

Creatively, I feel a bit burnt out. I have a lot going on in my life right now and the stress has been at an all-time high which totally zaps me by the end of the day. I feel drained with little to no motivation. I finally got myself a little writing desk in order to have my own little writing space in my home. However, sitting down to let it all pour out of me has been the hard part. I struggle with oversharing and shooting from the hip. Unfiltered and emotional. I usually give myself days, if not weeks, to decide whether I want to put a post out there into the universe. Because...once it's out there...you can't take it back. I've struggled with this a lot lately. There's such a fine line when it comes to privacy and telling my story. Especially when I'm only telling one side. It can often be hard for me to tell what the boundaries are which can make things..interesting. And recently Em asked why I didn't share more of her: her stories, her pictures, & her face. And the best answer I could come up with was that privacy was something we wanted to keep for as long as possible. And that statement is something that's been weighing on my mind lately. 

All of this to say that I have a plan. Sort of. I know that I need to get back on track with setting time aside for my writing. For December, I'm thinking of doing another "social media detox" as that normally helps me with getting myself balanced. It forces me to get outside, to pay attention more, and it allows me to write about things in a clearer way. I tend to read more books and take on more DIY home projects too. And it usually helps get rid of all the extra noise which is a good thing. Something I feel I need more of as each day goes by. So, there's a plan in the works, y'all. A plan to get my focus back on what I want, especially with the new year fast approaching. And here's to getting my ass into gear, yea? To a great, and hopefully slowish, November for us all.