Tuesday, March 29, 2011
Christina Perri - Jar of Hearts Official Video
I spent a lot of sleepness nights being very angry and bitter. I was angry about my relationship with Chris. I was mad at myself for letting it go on the way it did. I felt so stupid and embarrassed. I was mad at him for throwing away his chance at a family. Mad that he's never seen Tristan and only seen Kiana twice. When I look at them I can't believe that anyone would not want to be a part of their lives as much as possible. I can't say I was ever clinically depressed but I was angry for a very long time. Sometimes I still get angry when I'm by myself and there's nothing to do but think.
Every once in a while I talk to Chris. He's always very apologetic and regretful. He tells me he'd be better if he got another chance. He wants very much to try again. To his credit I do think he's a different person than the one I knew. He says he's been taking therapy and getting help for the last 2 years. He promises me that he would be everything that I want this time. I do think he's changed in a lot of ways but he's still Chris. Not everything is different. We would still clash a lot and I think I would be at home taking care of the kids while he's out playing all the time. He still has the same personality and it doesn't do well with my personality. Most importantly though, I'm still angry and bitter. We could never be together because I don't think I have it in me to let it all go and start over. It makes me angry when he asks for another chance. It's hard to explain so I'm glad Christina Perri explained it for me beautifully in her song Jar of hearts. I've watched this video countless times and there's no way I could say it better. This is beautiful and I hope you enjoy it.
Monday, March 28, 2011
I'm a Racist
Some people might say I'm racist. I've been accused of it before. I think the word racist is a little to strong for me. To be perfectly honest I only used that word because it catches a lot more attention than prejudice or stereo typing. The 2 latter words are probably a better description. I think everyone stereo types to some extent and I think everyone is even a little prejudice if not a lot prejudice. I know I am no exception. At first glance you would not think of me as racist because my ex was black and my beautiful children are half black. When people hear racist they automatically think of a white person hating a black person. That in itself is stereo typing. I honestly believe that anyone who says they don't stereo type are lying to you. Let me explain why people may think I am racist.
I would never live in a trailer park because I would assume that the neighbor was white trash. I just used a racist term. He would wear a dirty wife beater with huge armpit stains. He would shave once a month if that. In one hand would be a cigarette and in the other a beer. He'd be yelling at his wife to get him another beer. If she didn't do it fast enough than the other racist term I used would come into play.... wife beater. His daughter would be walking around in daisy duke shorts and a belly shirt. She's also slept with half the men living in the park as well. I don't want neighbors like that so I would not move into a trailer park.
If I see a Hispanic name in my dog grooming book I would assume that they are going to be bringing in either a poodle or schnauzer. Half the Mexicans in Utah own one or another. The other half own chihuahua's but no one pays to get a chihuahua groomed. Besides young white girls who have never gets their hands dirty but got a little rat dog so they could look more like Paris Hilton and the rest of Hollywood. I also know they're going to be late dropping the dog off and picking him up.
When I see a black guy walking around like a penguin so that the jeans hanging below his butt don't fall off completely I assume he deals drugs and talks like an uneducated hoodlum because he's trying to convince his friends that he's hard core and gangsta. He's from the hood and wants everyone to know it. If he's ever spent any time at all in New York than he tells everyone not to mess with him because he's from New York.
When I take my kids to the park and I see a middle aged white guy watching all the kids and having no kids of his own I assume he's a pervert. I watch my kids very closely and keep an eye on him to make sure he doesn't leave with more kids than he came with.
When I see someone begging for money on a street corner I assume he's an alcoholic and a drug addict. He's willing to lie and manipulate to any extent in order to get his next fix. He chooses to be homeless because homelessness allows laziness. It also doesn't require you to get random drug tests and show up on time.
This is such a touchy subject that doesn't get discussed about honestly because people are afraid of coming off as racist or prejudice. Everyone wants to believe that they don't stereo type or judge at all. The truth is that if you've experienced much outside of your comfort zone than you've most likely picked up on some of your own stereo types. It can be exhausting to be politically correct all of the time. Most of the time we judge and stereo type for our own safety or the safety of our family. We have to be able to judge a little bit in order to make good decisions. When I lived in Texas my neighbors were crack heads. There was 14 people living in a tiny 2 bedroom house. None of them worked. They didn't shower or do laundry. If you walked into their house you needed to wear a gas mask because the odor was unbearable. They looked like they hadn't eaten in days and they were never hungry. I never actually saw any of them doing crack. I just didn't think anyone else but a crack head would live like that. Right from the get go I judged them and I didn't trust them. When one of the ladies came to my house asking for a glass of water because hers had been shut off. I automatically assumed she wanted to see the inside of our house and wanted to know if it was worth breaking into. I wouldn't let her in, I brought the water outside to her. That was suspicious on it's own. Making it obvious that you don't want people to see your possessions is just as dangerous as letting them see them. The next day our neighbors broke into our house while we were at work and sold all of our stuff to a local pawn shop before we had even come home. My point is that people judge based off of life experiences and who are we to judge them for making those judgments.
I know that not all people living in trailer parks chain smoke, drink and beat their wives.
I know that not all Mexicans own either a poodle, schnauzer or chihuahua and they're not late all the time.
I know that all young black kids wearing huge baggy jeans don't always deal drugs and talk like gangstas.
I know that not all homeless people are lazy and alcoholics.
I know that not every middle aged white guy is a pedofile.
It's important to acknowledge that we all stereo type regardless of our race or appearance. It's also important that we know we are wrong a lot of the time. Lets keep in mind that there are scum bags in every race, size, age and appearance. There are also many awesome people in every age, race, size and appearance. Don't do or say things just to hurt people and don't get easily offended. I could get offended every time someone said "you throw like a girl" because that's sexist. It's not necessary though. I think there is a big difference between being racist and having stereo types. Lets make judgments that help us keep ourselves and our family safe but treat everyone decent at the same time. There is a time and a place for everything. If we each really think about it and admit that we are prejudice some of the time than maybe we can better understand why and figure out if it's necessary or if it's just mean.
I would never live in a trailer park because I would assume that the neighbor was white trash. I just used a racist term. He would wear a dirty wife beater with huge armpit stains. He would shave once a month if that. In one hand would be a cigarette and in the other a beer. He'd be yelling at his wife to get him another beer. If she didn't do it fast enough than the other racist term I used would come into play.... wife beater. His daughter would be walking around in daisy duke shorts and a belly shirt. She's also slept with half the men living in the park as well. I don't want neighbors like that so I would not move into a trailer park.
If I see a Hispanic name in my dog grooming book I would assume that they are going to be bringing in either a poodle or schnauzer. Half the Mexicans in Utah own one or another. The other half own chihuahua's but no one pays to get a chihuahua groomed. Besides young white girls who have never gets their hands dirty but got a little rat dog so they could look more like Paris Hilton and the rest of Hollywood. I also know they're going to be late dropping the dog off and picking him up.
When I see a black guy walking around like a penguin so that the jeans hanging below his butt don't fall off completely I assume he deals drugs and talks like an uneducated hoodlum because he's trying to convince his friends that he's hard core and gangsta. He's from the hood and wants everyone to know it. If he's ever spent any time at all in New York than he tells everyone not to mess with him because he's from New York.
When I take my kids to the park and I see a middle aged white guy watching all the kids and having no kids of his own I assume he's a pervert. I watch my kids very closely and keep an eye on him to make sure he doesn't leave with more kids than he came with.
When I see someone begging for money on a street corner I assume he's an alcoholic and a drug addict. He's willing to lie and manipulate to any extent in order to get his next fix. He chooses to be homeless because homelessness allows laziness. It also doesn't require you to get random drug tests and show up on time.
This is such a touchy subject that doesn't get discussed about honestly because people are afraid of coming off as racist or prejudice. Everyone wants to believe that they don't stereo type or judge at all. The truth is that if you've experienced much outside of your comfort zone than you've most likely picked up on some of your own stereo types. It can be exhausting to be politically correct all of the time. Most of the time we judge and stereo type for our own safety or the safety of our family. We have to be able to judge a little bit in order to make good decisions. When I lived in Texas my neighbors were crack heads. There was 14 people living in a tiny 2 bedroom house. None of them worked. They didn't shower or do laundry. If you walked into their house you needed to wear a gas mask because the odor was unbearable. They looked like they hadn't eaten in days and they were never hungry. I never actually saw any of them doing crack. I just didn't think anyone else but a crack head would live like that. Right from the get go I judged them and I didn't trust them. When one of the ladies came to my house asking for a glass of water because hers had been shut off. I automatically assumed she wanted to see the inside of our house and wanted to know if it was worth breaking into. I wouldn't let her in, I brought the water outside to her. That was suspicious on it's own. Making it obvious that you don't want people to see your possessions is just as dangerous as letting them see them. The next day our neighbors broke into our house while we were at work and sold all of our stuff to a local pawn shop before we had even come home. My point is that people judge based off of life experiences and who are we to judge them for making those judgments.
I know that not all people living in trailer parks chain smoke, drink and beat their wives.
I know that not all Mexicans own either a poodle, schnauzer or chihuahua and they're not late all the time.
I know that all young black kids wearing huge baggy jeans don't always deal drugs and talk like gangstas.
I know that not all homeless people are lazy and alcoholics.
I know that not every middle aged white guy is a pedofile.
It's important to acknowledge that we all stereo type regardless of our race or appearance. It's also important that we know we are wrong a lot of the time. Lets keep in mind that there are scum bags in every race, size, age and appearance. There are also many awesome people in every age, race, size and appearance. Don't do or say things just to hurt people and don't get easily offended. I could get offended every time someone said "you throw like a girl" because that's sexist. It's not necessary though. I think there is a big difference between being racist and having stereo types. Lets make judgments that help us keep ourselves and our family safe but treat everyone decent at the same time. There is a time and a place for everything. If we each really think about it and admit that we are prejudice some of the time than maybe we can better understand why and figure out if it's necessary or if it's just mean.
Monday, March 21, 2011
Suicide or Manipulation?
I looked in the mirror. I didn't recognize the girl looking back at me. Her eyes were red, hair full of knots and her neck was bruised. She was weak and vulnerable. She let men use her and take advantage of her. Her eyes were empty and dark. She looked completely broken. Surely this girl staring at me wasn't me. I'm stronger than she is. I have fight in me. I would never let a man put his hands on me, at least not more than once. I'm in the Army for crying out loud. I grew up with 5 older brothers that tormented me. In elementary school I was better than the boys at football and hand ball. I was tough. I played sports in high school and made all star in softball. I was in a co-ed weightlifting class that only consisted of one other girl besides myself. I was the only girl in my metals class. No one ever tried to fight me because they were sure I'd win. I was able to put up a good front. I made it through basic training without ever crying and without ever taking a sick day. So who was this girl all red eyed staring at me?
I finally got all the knots out of my hair. I washed my face and tried to get rid of the redness. I just want to go lay down and pretend this night never happened. Maybe I can dream about something nice. Sleep was a good escape. Of course that depended on what I dreamed I suppose. I laid down on the very edge of the bed. I would like to sleep on the couch by myself but than Chris will give me the guilt trip and I'm just not in the mood to hear it. I'm surprised he's not in our room getting ready to tuck me in. After nights like this he usually tries to be all nice and make me forget about everything that just happened. I never forget though. I don't care what's taking him so long to get into bed. I just want to sleep. After about 20 minutes I hear a loud bang in the bathroom. Something fell but I don't know what. I get up to see what happened and the door is locked. I start knocking and asking what's going on. He won't answer. I look up and see the end of a leather belt hanging from the top of the door. It's been shut into the door. Suddenly it dawns on me. Chris must be hanging from the other side. Don't ask me how I knew. Most people wouldn't assume that at all but somehow, someway... I knew. I started banging on the door demanding a response and of course I get nothing. I threw my shoulder in the door several times and to my surprise it actually breaks down. Sure enough Chris falls to the ground with the other end of the belt around his neck. He's gasping for air and completely naked. It was like a scene from a movie. I rush over to him, take the belt off from around his neck and get him ready for bed. He must have climbed onto the shelf and than stepped off of it knocking things down in the process. We didn't speak a single word to each other. We just went to bed in silence.
The next morning we both had the day off. We were completely silent for half the day. I made him breakfast and watched him play video games. Finally I couldn't stand it anymore and I asked "what happened last night?" "What do you mean?" he said. "Don't you remember anything?" I reply. He tells me he took his meds and he was drinking so he as no idea what went on. Great he's using the stupid meds excuse. I have no idea if these meds make him forget anything at all or if it's just a convenient excuse. "Was it bad?" I tell him he got physical again and than I tell him he tried to hang himself in the bathroom. He still claims he has no idea what I'm talking about. I wish he could at least thank me for breaking down the door and saving his life. I honestly should have let him hang. What does it take to get some appreciation from him? I know I sound so selfish. I should be more concerned with why he would do something like that. I shouldn't be worried about myself right now. I can't help it though. I want something from him.... anything! I get nothing. He acts annoyed with me for trying to talk about it so I never bring it up again.
I still don't know what his motives were. Was this some sick form of manipulation? Was it a way to make me forget about what he had just done to me and put the attention on him? He's playing mind games with me, I know it. Doesn't he care at all what this sort of thing will do to a person? This was a way for him to remind me that his life was so much worse than mine. He always had to have it worse, always. What if I hadn't come? Would he really risk hanging just to mess with my mind? Is he that desperate to make me feel sorry for him, instead of myself?... Maybe he really wanted to kill himself. Maybe the meds and alcohol made him do things beyond his control. Maybe he really didn't remember anything that happened. Maybe I'll burn in hell because I hate him for putting me through that. I hate the manipulation! Why did I save him? I did it because I still loved him. No matter what he did to me I still loved him.
Have you ever seen or prevented a suicide? How did it affect you? As an outsider looking in what do think the motives were? I know this is very personal and I completely understand if no one wants to share. If you do have some input I would love to hear it. Thanks for reading.
I finally got all the knots out of my hair. I washed my face and tried to get rid of the redness. I just want to go lay down and pretend this night never happened. Maybe I can dream about something nice. Sleep was a good escape. Of course that depended on what I dreamed I suppose. I laid down on the very edge of the bed. I would like to sleep on the couch by myself but than Chris will give me the guilt trip and I'm just not in the mood to hear it. I'm surprised he's not in our room getting ready to tuck me in. After nights like this he usually tries to be all nice and make me forget about everything that just happened. I never forget though. I don't care what's taking him so long to get into bed. I just want to sleep. After about 20 minutes I hear a loud bang in the bathroom. Something fell but I don't know what. I get up to see what happened and the door is locked. I start knocking and asking what's going on. He won't answer. I look up and see the end of a leather belt hanging from the top of the door. It's been shut into the door. Suddenly it dawns on me. Chris must be hanging from the other side. Don't ask me how I knew. Most people wouldn't assume that at all but somehow, someway... I knew. I started banging on the door demanding a response and of course I get nothing. I threw my shoulder in the door several times and to my surprise it actually breaks down. Sure enough Chris falls to the ground with the other end of the belt around his neck. He's gasping for air and completely naked. It was like a scene from a movie. I rush over to him, take the belt off from around his neck and get him ready for bed. He must have climbed onto the shelf and than stepped off of it knocking things down in the process. We didn't speak a single word to each other. We just went to bed in silence.
The next morning we both had the day off. We were completely silent for half the day. I made him breakfast and watched him play video games. Finally I couldn't stand it anymore and I asked "what happened last night?" "What do you mean?" he said. "Don't you remember anything?" I reply. He tells me he took his meds and he was drinking so he as no idea what went on. Great he's using the stupid meds excuse. I have no idea if these meds make him forget anything at all or if it's just a convenient excuse. "Was it bad?" I tell him he got physical again and than I tell him he tried to hang himself in the bathroom. He still claims he has no idea what I'm talking about. I wish he could at least thank me for breaking down the door and saving his life. I honestly should have let him hang. What does it take to get some appreciation from him? I know I sound so selfish. I should be more concerned with why he would do something like that. I shouldn't be worried about myself right now. I can't help it though. I want something from him.... anything! I get nothing. He acts annoyed with me for trying to talk about it so I never bring it up again.
I still don't know what his motives were. Was this some sick form of manipulation? Was it a way to make me forget about what he had just done to me and put the attention on him? He's playing mind games with me, I know it. Doesn't he care at all what this sort of thing will do to a person? This was a way for him to remind me that his life was so much worse than mine. He always had to have it worse, always. What if I hadn't come? Would he really risk hanging just to mess with my mind? Is he that desperate to make me feel sorry for him, instead of myself?... Maybe he really wanted to kill himself. Maybe the meds and alcohol made him do things beyond his control. Maybe he really didn't remember anything that happened. Maybe I'll burn in hell because I hate him for putting me through that. I hate the manipulation! Why did I save him? I did it because I still loved him. No matter what he did to me I still loved him.
Have you ever seen or prevented a suicide? How did it affect you? As an outsider looking in what do think the motives were? I know this is very personal and I completely understand if no one wants to share. If you do have some input I would love to hear it. Thanks for reading.
Thursday, March 17, 2011
Funny facebook friends
I thought it was time to lighten up the mood a little bit so I stole this idea from my favorite blogger: Single Dad Laughing. I stole posts from several of my facebook friends and decided to share them all with you. This also saves me from having to think a whole lot. I'm also in a pretty good mood tonight and my writing just isn't very entertaining when I'm not angry at the world. Kinda like when Alanis Morrisette fell in love and started writing happy songs instead of man hater songs. She just got so boring! Enough of my rants. I hope these facebook stats make you smile as much as they made me smile. Thanks to everyone who gave me a good laugh. Enjoy!
St. Patricks day is celebrated by white people because the Polynesians swam to the Americas and the white ppl feared them and the Polys said no we just want something to eat and the white ppl introduced them to macaroni salad and the polys picked out the celery because it's disgusting and that's the reason for the season.
Justin (from the other room): "Josh can you turn the music down?" Josh: (turns the music down) "Is that ok?" Justin: "Yes" Josh: (Keeps singing) Justin: "Josh, now turn yourself down." ...... I guess Justin doesn't like my love for music, or my singing.... one or the other.
Oh Thin Mints... how do I quit you...
We need a good way of telling people they have bad breath without hurting their feelings, like.... "Well I'm bored, let's go brush our teeth!"
You should know, when someone pisses you off, it only takes 48 muscles to fown but only two to pull a trigger.
Superbowl? Nah, I'd rather clean a toilet... Gotta love how I'm spending my Friday!
If you were an emo kid and you were at the pizza place and your favorite song came on with no razor in sight could you slit your wrists with a pizza cutter. You know, in a pinch.
Support Bacteria, they're the only culture some people have.
AAAARRRRGGGGG POOP EVERYWHERE!!!!!!!!!!!! I am so done with this.
Yeah I think that since 2012 is coming fast you should get rid of all your worldly possessions... and I will watch over them till the apocalypse.
We're @ the grocery store waiting for some people to move and let us by and they start speaking spanish. Tyler yells, "Move it! Vominos!"
To men who say "Why buy the cow when you can get the milk for free?" 80% of women wont marry you because "It's not worth buying the PIG to get a little sausage!"
St. Patricks day is celebrated by white people because the Polynesians swam to the Americas and the white ppl feared them and the Polys said no we just want something to eat and the white ppl introduced them to macaroni salad and the polys picked out the celery because it's disgusting and that's the reason for the season.
Justin (from the other room): "Josh can you turn the music down?" Josh: (turns the music down) "Is that ok?" Justin: "Yes" Josh: (Keeps singing) Justin: "Josh, now turn yourself down." ...... I guess Justin doesn't like my love for music, or my singing.... one or the other.
Oh Thin Mints... how do I quit you...
We need a good way of telling people they have bad breath without hurting their feelings, like.... "Well I'm bored, let's go brush our teeth!"
You should know, when someone pisses you off, it only takes 48 muscles to fown but only two to pull a trigger.
Superbowl? Nah, I'd rather clean a toilet... Gotta love how I'm spending my Friday!
If you were an emo kid and you were at the pizza place and your favorite song came on with no razor in sight could you slit your wrists with a pizza cutter. You know, in a pinch.
Support Bacteria, they're the only culture some people have.
AAAARRRRGGGGG POOP EVERYWHERE!!!!!!!!!!!! I am so done with this.
Yeah I think that since 2012 is coming fast you should get rid of all your worldly possessions... and I will watch over them till the apocalypse.
We're @ the grocery store waiting for some people to move and let us by and they start speaking spanish. Tyler yells, "Move it! Vominos!"
To men who say "Why buy the cow when you can get the milk for free?" 80% of women wont marry you because "It's not worth buying the PIG to get a little sausage!"
Tuesday, March 15, 2011
Life After Divorce
Is there such thing as life after divorce? If you've been divorced than you know exactly what I'm talking about. If you haven't been divorced please try to imagine for a moment how it would be if your spouse told you they wanted a divorce. How would it be to know that you will never wake up next to them again? How would it be to find out that they don't love you or they may have possibly never loved you? What if they wanted to take your kids away from you? What if they wanted to be with someone else? How would it be to realize that all the work you've put into your spouse and your family has been in vain? Would you be able to function after that?
I was never married. I wanted to get married but he didn't want to marry me... thank goodness! I practically lived with my ex during our year in Germany and than I moved to Texas with him for 2 years. After that we had a long distance relationship for 2 years. I never had to deal with all the legalities of a divorce. I don't have to go to court and fight for my kids. He's to lazy to try and take my kids from me. I got lucky as far as that goes. Let me tell you though, breaking things off with him felt like getting a divorce without the paperwork. I gave him everything I had for 5 years. I had 2 kids with him. Well, I can't really say I had 2 kids with him because I did that by myself. He was a good sperm donor though. I left my family and my friends for him. I sacrificed everything for him, and for what? So I could be alone? So I could raise 2 kids by myself? I've dedicated everything to making us work. If there is no more us than what is there?
I recently heard someone say that divorce is the closest thing you can get to hell without actually being in hell. Divorce sucks. There's no nice way to put it. It's hard on you, it's hard on your parents and it's life altering for your kids. How do you recover from something like this? Will you ever be able to love again? Will you ever find someone as good? Did you just leave "the one" and is there anyone else out there that could make you forget all about this hell you're going through? I think the answer to all these questions is yes. It sounds so cliche but I think the only way to bounce back from something like this is to truly be happy with yourself. You have to be content with your life. Stop looking to others to make you happy. Stop waiting for your knight in shining armor before you'll be able to function like a normal person. Look at your life and realize that you are happy just being you. You're happy because God has blessed beyond measure. Look at your kids and see the love in their eyes. Look at your friends and your family and know that someone out there always has it worse and they find a way to be happy. It's way easier said than done. It took me a long time to get to that point. Until you realize that you are just lucky to be you whether you're married or not you will not see that there is life after divorce. No one else will make you happy unless you are able to be happy without them. People fall in love and think that they will never be happy with anyone else. As sweet as this sounds I think it's a load of crap! Thank goodness it is a load of crap because with divorce rates soaring at least 50% of us would never be happy again.
I want to make it very clear that I am not encouraging you to go file for divorce. I feel that divorce is used as a first resort instead of a last resort and that is sad. I think you should exhaust everything you have to stay married. Go to counseling. Start a date night. Read books. Communicate with each other for crying out loud! Do everything you can to keep your promises and vows you made to each other. On the other hand, if you are in danger or your kids are in danger than please run for the hills and never look back. A friend of mine growing up once told me that she didn't want a big wedding because she will probably have to get married 2 or 3 times and she doesn't want to waste all her money on the first one.We were 7 years old when she told me this. What has this world come to when our 7 year old's don't believe in happily ever after anymore.
If divorce is the only option than please know that you will be able to live again. The secret to discovering life after divorce is not in another persons arms. It's not in a bottle of vodka. It's not in the local bar or strip club. You will discover life after divorce when you discover that you're pretty great all by yourself. Love yourself and you will live again. It may take a long time to get there but you will get there.
I was never married. I wanted to get married but he didn't want to marry me... thank goodness! I practically lived with my ex during our year in Germany and than I moved to Texas with him for 2 years. After that we had a long distance relationship for 2 years. I never had to deal with all the legalities of a divorce. I don't have to go to court and fight for my kids. He's to lazy to try and take my kids from me. I got lucky as far as that goes. Let me tell you though, breaking things off with him felt like getting a divorce without the paperwork. I gave him everything I had for 5 years. I had 2 kids with him. Well, I can't really say I had 2 kids with him because I did that by myself. He was a good sperm donor though. I left my family and my friends for him. I sacrificed everything for him, and for what? So I could be alone? So I could raise 2 kids by myself? I've dedicated everything to making us work. If there is no more us than what is there?
I recently heard someone say that divorce is the closest thing you can get to hell without actually being in hell. Divorce sucks. There's no nice way to put it. It's hard on you, it's hard on your parents and it's life altering for your kids. How do you recover from something like this? Will you ever be able to love again? Will you ever find someone as good? Did you just leave "the one" and is there anyone else out there that could make you forget all about this hell you're going through? I think the answer to all these questions is yes. It sounds so cliche but I think the only way to bounce back from something like this is to truly be happy with yourself. You have to be content with your life. Stop looking to others to make you happy. Stop waiting for your knight in shining armor before you'll be able to function like a normal person. Look at your life and realize that you are happy just being you. You're happy because God has blessed beyond measure. Look at your kids and see the love in their eyes. Look at your friends and your family and know that someone out there always has it worse and they find a way to be happy. It's way easier said than done. It took me a long time to get to that point. Until you realize that you are just lucky to be you whether you're married or not you will not see that there is life after divorce. No one else will make you happy unless you are able to be happy without them. People fall in love and think that they will never be happy with anyone else. As sweet as this sounds I think it's a load of crap! Thank goodness it is a load of crap because with divorce rates soaring at least 50% of us would never be happy again.
I want to make it very clear that I am not encouraging you to go file for divorce. I feel that divorce is used as a first resort instead of a last resort and that is sad. I think you should exhaust everything you have to stay married. Go to counseling. Start a date night. Read books. Communicate with each other for crying out loud! Do everything you can to keep your promises and vows you made to each other. On the other hand, if you are in danger or your kids are in danger than please run for the hills and never look back. A friend of mine growing up once told me that she didn't want a big wedding because she will probably have to get married 2 or 3 times and she doesn't want to waste all her money on the first one.We were 7 years old when she told me this. What has this world come to when our 7 year old's don't believe in happily ever after anymore.
If divorce is the only option than please know that you will be able to live again. The secret to discovering life after divorce is not in another persons arms. It's not in a bottle of vodka. It's not in the local bar or strip club. You will discover life after divorce when you discover that you're pretty great all by yourself. Love yourself and you will live again. It may take a long time to get there but you will get there.
Sunday, March 13, 2011
Why does she stay?
We all know someone or have heard of someone who stays in a relationship that is very toxic and we can't figure out why they do it. Looking at something from the outside gives us an advantage that they don't have. We see things logically and clearly. We are not blinded by love or hope or manipulation. It's so easy for us to judge people when we are not in the middle of the horror. I can only try to explain why I stayed and even that has been very hard for me to understand myself. There are many reasons why people stay so I would love some input from others to see why they think people stay in toxic relationships. So you can try to better understand my conclusion I will give you a quick history lesson on myself. I know you're all excited to hear this. ;)
When I was 12 we moved from Spanish Fork to Mapleton. It wasn't much of a move but it still meant a lot of changes. I was actually excited to go to a new school and meet new people. This was kinda fun for someone with ADD like myself. I was going to be a different person here. Maybe I would start wearing makeup and even shave my legs. I might attempt to get a brush through my dirty hair. In the new school I will be pretty and popular. I wont be just another tom boy who can throw a football better than the boys can. I had lots of friends in Spanish Fork but I was excited about the possibilities in a new school. Springville was not at all what I had expected. The boys didn't notice me. The popular kids didn't give me a second glance. The nerds were to smart for me. I wasn't very pretty and I wasn't even skinny enough. I had no idea how clickish people could be. I didn't fit in anywhere. Jill was the first person to befriend me even though she was smarter than me. She didn't care what kind of clothes I wore or what my GPA was. I still didn't feel like I fit in with her group and I don't think her friends liked me much. To her credit she didn't care what anyone thought of me and to this day she is a loyal friend. She's also my first and one of my few followers on this blog. Unfortunately one friend wasn't enough for me, I wanted lots more. I finally found a group of kids that were nice to me. Many of them were rebels, punks and underpriveledged kids. I didn't care though, they were nice to me. That was hard to find in this school. For the first time in my life I started to open my eyes and see what the world outside of my bubble was like. I realized that not everyone grows up in a religious home with 2 parents that love eachother. Not everyone grows up with loving siblings who are excellent examples. I was making friends with kids who grew up with single parents and broken families. They had parents who were on drugs and drank way to much. Why is it that the kids who have nothing are the kids who treat me the best? They have more reason than anyone to be angry and mean to people but they are the nice ones. One person that stands out is Kevin. He was the funnest person to be around. He was always positive and friendly. I remember a few times where I caught just a little glimpse of what his home life was like and I couldn't understand what he had to be so happy about. Yet he was. Jessica also comes to mind. She had a terrible childhood and still found a way to be better than she was taught. I finally found a group I felt good in. I can't say that I could relate to them but I was going to try. I still needed to fit in with them somehow. I had to start rebelling like they did. I stopped going to my classes. I even tried drinking a few times. I dressed like a little punk who needed attention. I made a lot of mistakes in high school for the sake of having friends. When I turned 16 I realized I wasn't going to graduate at this rate. I wasn't going to make it out of high school without getting pregnant. I needed to make some changes. That's when I decided to move to Gunnison with my sister and her family. I knew I wouldn't change if I kept my same friends so I needed a new start once again. I was able to play sports and I was getting good grades. I made some good friends even though I always felt like an outsider in this little town. Annika was a foriegn exchange student from Germany so we could be outsiders together. She is my one other follower on this blog. My oldest sister Becky was very good to me. Her husband was and is one of the nicest people I know. I was creating a better life for myself but I never forgot about my friends from Springville High. I wish I had kept better contact with them. Especially the ones like Kevin and Jessica. Since than I have always had a soft spot for the underpriveledged kids. I have always rooted for the underdog and had a great deal of respect for the ones who start out with nothing and beat all the odds. This leads me to the reason I was so drawn to someone like Chris. This is why I stayed with someone who was very emotionally and physically abusive. Someone who is manipulative, controling, disloyal and angry. I wanted to save him. I wanted to show him happiness and treat him better than anyone had before. I wanted to show him that not everyone leaves. I was going to make him happy and he was going to love me for it.
Chris has been through more than I would wish on my worst enemy. This made me love him. I wanted to save him from the terrible world he knew. The only way I could do that was to forgive him every time. I made sure I was always waiting for him when he came home at 4 in the morning. Every time he kicked me out over a stupid fight I would come back the next day when he told me to come home. Everytime I had to wear turtlenecks to hide the marks on my neck I accepted his apology. I showed him that no matter what he does I would never leave. I gave him permission to use me. I gave him permission to put his hands on me. I gave him permission to cheat on me. I had to let him do this if I was going to show him that I loved him enough to stay. This is the closest explanation I can think of. It's taken me years to figure out why I stayed and to be honest I still don't have it figured out completely.
I still love the underdog. Now I have way more respect for the people who know how to cope and deal with stress. I love the person who had an abusive alcoholic father and decides he will never hit his own kids. I love people who have been with cheaters and decide they will never cheat on their significant other. I love the ones who beat all the odds. My biological grandpa comes from a very long line of abusive parents. I call him my biological grandpa because he was not the grandpa I knew, we simply share blood. However, he decided to stop the cycle and never lay a hand on my father. As a result my father will never lay a hand on me and I will never lay a hand on my kids. I don't know him but I love him for stopping the cycle. My brother in law Larry decided to stop the cycle. He treats his kids wonerfully and now they know how to treat their future kids. I want to thank everyone out there who decides to stop the cycle. I want to thank everyone I mentioned because you had a greater impact on my life than you realize. I am very blessed because of the people in my life and I appreciate the people you are and the people you strive to be.
Once again I would like some input so we can all try to understand eachother better. Let us know why you think people stay. Lets do our best not to judge and try to understand one another.
Thanks for reading and I hope you didn't find it to boring.
When I was 12 we moved from Spanish Fork to Mapleton. It wasn't much of a move but it still meant a lot of changes. I was actually excited to go to a new school and meet new people. This was kinda fun for someone with ADD like myself. I was going to be a different person here. Maybe I would start wearing makeup and even shave my legs. I might attempt to get a brush through my dirty hair. In the new school I will be pretty and popular. I wont be just another tom boy who can throw a football better than the boys can. I had lots of friends in Spanish Fork but I was excited about the possibilities in a new school. Springville was not at all what I had expected. The boys didn't notice me. The popular kids didn't give me a second glance. The nerds were to smart for me. I wasn't very pretty and I wasn't even skinny enough. I had no idea how clickish people could be. I didn't fit in anywhere. Jill was the first person to befriend me even though she was smarter than me. She didn't care what kind of clothes I wore or what my GPA was. I still didn't feel like I fit in with her group and I don't think her friends liked me much. To her credit she didn't care what anyone thought of me and to this day she is a loyal friend. She's also my first and one of my few followers on this blog. Unfortunately one friend wasn't enough for me, I wanted lots more. I finally found a group of kids that were nice to me. Many of them were rebels, punks and underpriveledged kids. I didn't care though, they were nice to me. That was hard to find in this school. For the first time in my life I started to open my eyes and see what the world outside of my bubble was like. I realized that not everyone grows up in a religious home with 2 parents that love eachother. Not everyone grows up with loving siblings who are excellent examples. I was making friends with kids who grew up with single parents and broken families. They had parents who were on drugs and drank way to much. Why is it that the kids who have nothing are the kids who treat me the best? They have more reason than anyone to be angry and mean to people but they are the nice ones. One person that stands out is Kevin. He was the funnest person to be around. He was always positive and friendly. I remember a few times where I caught just a little glimpse of what his home life was like and I couldn't understand what he had to be so happy about. Yet he was. Jessica also comes to mind. She had a terrible childhood and still found a way to be better than she was taught. I finally found a group I felt good in. I can't say that I could relate to them but I was going to try. I still needed to fit in with them somehow. I had to start rebelling like they did. I stopped going to my classes. I even tried drinking a few times. I dressed like a little punk who needed attention. I made a lot of mistakes in high school for the sake of having friends. When I turned 16 I realized I wasn't going to graduate at this rate. I wasn't going to make it out of high school without getting pregnant. I needed to make some changes. That's when I decided to move to Gunnison with my sister and her family. I knew I wouldn't change if I kept my same friends so I needed a new start once again. I was able to play sports and I was getting good grades. I made some good friends even though I always felt like an outsider in this little town. Annika was a foriegn exchange student from Germany so we could be outsiders together. She is my one other follower on this blog. My oldest sister Becky was very good to me. Her husband was and is one of the nicest people I know. I was creating a better life for myself but I never forgot about my friends from Springville High. I wish I had kept better contact with them. Especially the ones like Kevin and Jessica. Since than I have always had a soft spot for the underpriveledged kids. I have always rooted for the underdog and had a great deal of respect for the ones who start out with nothing and beat all the odds. This leads me to the reason I was so drawn to someone like Chris. This is why I stayed with someone who was very emotionally and physically abusive. Someone who is manipulative, controling, disloyal and angry. I wanted to save him. I wanted to show him happiness and treat him better than anyone had before. I wanted to show him that not everyone leaves. I was going to make him happy and he was going to love me for it.
Chris has been through more than I would wish on my worst enemy. This made me love him. I wanted to save him from the terrible world he knew. The only way I could do that was to forgive him every time. I made sure I was always waiting for him when he came home at 4 in the morning. Every time he kicked me out over a stupid fight I would come back the next day when he told me to come home. Everytime I had to wear turtlenecks to hide the marks on my neck I accepted his apology. I showed him that no matter what he does I would never leave. I gave him permission to use me. I gave him permission to put his hands on me. I gave him permission to cheat on me. I had to let him do this if I was going to show him that I loved him enough to stay. This is the closest explanation I can think of. It's taken me years to figure out why I stayed and to be honest I still don't have it figured out completely.
I still love the underdog. Now I have way more respect for the people who know how to cope and deal with stress. I love the person who had an abusive alcoholic father and decides he will never hit his own kids. I love people who have been with cheaters and decide they will never cheat on their significant other. I love the ones who beat all the odds. My biological grandpa comes from a very long line of abusive parents. I call him my biological grandpa because he was not the grandpa I knew, we simply share blood. However, he decided to stop the cycle and never lay a hand on my father. As a result my father will never lay a hand on me and I will never lay a hand on my kids. I don't know him but I love him for stopping the cycle. My brother in law Larry decided to stop the cycle. He treats his kids wonerfully and now they know how to treat their future kids. I want to thank everyone out there who decides to stop the cycle. I want to thank everyone I mentioned because you had a greater impact on my life than you realize. I am very blessed because of the people in my life and I appreciate the people you are and the people you strive to be.
Once again I would like some input so we can all try to understand eachother better. Let us know why you think people stay. Lets do our best not to judge and try to understand one another.
Thanks for reading and I hope you didn't find it to boring.
Friday, March 11, 2011
Therapy continued
I had a full blown panic attack while I was typing this story last night. I've never experienced anything like that, it was very scary. I even feel a little silly for reacting the way I did. I will learn from this and not type my blogs in the middle of the night when I am emotionally more vulnerable.
Back to my story. The next sound I heard may have saved my life. It was the beeping sound that is triggered every time you open the doors to the store. "What does that mean?" he asked. "It means there is a customer here." I said. This is when I should have started yelling help and I should have fought him. The customer would hear the commotion and run over to help me. The two of us would have beat him up and called the police. They would show up to a beaten man laying in a pool of blood. That's what I wish had happened. Instead I stayed frozen. He told me to be quiet and he would go tell the customer to come back later. I was told to not make a sound and no one would get hurt. I stayed silent when he left. I waited to hear somebody yell for help or yell out to see if I was okay. Everything was deathly silent until I heard the beeping signaling the door had been opened again. I was sure he was able to get the customer to leave and that meant I was alone with this man yet again. Finally my brain started to work and I was desperately trying to think of a way out. I decided to make a run for it and leave out of the emergency door in the back. I don't have time to put my shoes and my pants back on. What if I open the door and he's already on the other side. I'll need something to defend myself with. The only thing I could find in the bathroom was a toilet brush. That's right, I left the bathroom with a toilet brush in my hand. I was going to beat a man to a bloody pulp with a toilet brush. Luckily no one was on the other side of the door and I made a run for it in nothing but a 7-eleven shirt and a toilet brush in my hand. I ran down the street and for some reason I was sure the man who robbed me would jump in his truck and come after me. I didn't think I could make it home before he caught me so I ran to the nearest house. I banged on the front door as loud as I dared. No answer. I could see headlights coming down the street so I ran into the bushes and waited for the vehicle to be out of sight. I sprinted to the next house and banged on their door. No one is going to answer their door in the middle of the night in this neighborhood. If they do it will probably be with a bat in hand and I may end up in even worse condition. I see more headlights so I hide behind a fence until they disappear. At the next house someone opens their door. It's a big black man with nappy hair and a dirty wife beater on. I wonder if I should start running again. The man that just attempted to rape me was black and I instantly hate this man standing in front of me because he is also black. I don't say anything to him. I just stand there like a deer in headlights until I see his wife behind him. I know who she is, she comes into the store all the time and she's very nice. Seeing a familiar face was all I needed to snap out of my frozen racist moment. I break down crying and tell her someone is after me. She tells her husband to let me in and call the police.
After hours at the police station one of the officers drives me home. Chris wakes up startled to see me home so early. He can tell I'm upset and he asks what's going on. I break down in the kitchen and explain everything. I spent the rest of the morning in his arms. Maybe this will make him love me more. Maybe something like this needed to happen so he will care about me more. This could be a blessing in disguise and save our relationship. Maybe he'll stop hurting me and he'll appreciate me more. I was safe in my home but the truth is, my home was not any safer than working the night shift at 7-eleven by yourself. I've replaced one abusive man with another. Instead of being in the arms of a robber and rapist I find myself in the arms of a woman beater. He's black as well, I don't have much luck with this race. Maybe it's time for me to find myself a nice white boy.
The point of this blog is wrapped up in the title of these posts. I need therapy. A lot of us need therapy. So many of us are ashamed of what's happened to us in the past or happening now that we keep it secret from everyone who cares about us. We bottle it up inside because we are embarrassed to admit we allowed someone to treat us this way. We don't want to be judged for staying in an abusive relationship. We don't want people to hate our abuser and tell us to leave. We know we should leave but we don't want to hear it. We don't want to feel stupid for staying and we don't know how to answer the age old question of why people stay in abusive relationships. We hide everything until it destroys us from the inside out. I want this blog to become a safe place for people to come and share stories and relate to one another. Think of it as an online support group. Share your stories or just read the stories. If you've survived something traumatic let others know so that they may be able to see the light at the end of the tunnel. I want this to be a safe place where people can open up without feeling judged. I need this for my own therapy and I know this could help others as well. If you know of someone this could benefit please let them know about my blog and I encourage you to comment and share your thoughts and stories. Thanks for your support and I look forward to hearing from you.
Back to my story. The next sound I heard may have saved my life. It was the beeping sound that is triggered every time you open the doors to the store. "What does that mean?" he asked. "It means there is a customer here." I said. This is when I should have started yelling help and I should have fought him. The customer would hear the commotion and run over to help me. The two of us would have beat him up and called the police. They would show up to a beaten man laying in a pool of blood. That's what I wish had happened. Instead I stayed frozen. He told me to be quiet and he would go tell the customer to come back later. I was told to not make a sound and no one would get hurt. I stayed silent when he left. I waited to hear somebody yell for help or yell out to see if I was okay. Everything was deathly silent until I heard the beeping signaling the door had been opened again. I was sure he was able to get the customer to leave and that meant I was alone with this man yet again. Finally my brain started to work and I was desperately trying to think of a way out. I decided to make a run for it and leave out of the emergency door in the back. I don't have time to put my shoes and my pants back on. What if I open the door and he's already on the other side. I'll need something to defend myself with. The only thing I could find in the bathroom was a toilet brush. That's right, I left the bathroom with a toilet brush in my hand. I was going to beat a man to a bloody pulp with a toilet brush. Luckily no one was on the other side of the door and I made a run for it in nothing but a 7-eleven shirt and a toilet brush in my hand. I ran down the street and for some reason I was sure the man who robbed me would jump in his truck and come after me. I didn't think I could make it home before he caught me so I ran to the nearest house. I banged on the front door as loud as I dared. No answer. I could see headlights coming down the street so I ran into the bushes and waited for the vehicle to be out of sight. I sprinted to the next house and banged on their door. No one is going to answer their door in the middle of the night in this neighborhood. If they do it will probably be with a bat in hand and I may end up in even worse condition. I see more headlights so I hide behind a fence until they disappear. At the next house someone opens their door. It's a big black man with nappy hair and a dirty wife beater on. I wonder if I should start running again. The man that just attempted to rape me was black and I instantly hate this man standing in front of me because he is also black. I don't say anything to him. I just stand there like a deer in headlights until I see his wife behind him. I know who she is, she comes into the store all the time and she's very nice. Seeing a familiar face was all I needed to snap out of my frozen racist moment. I break down crying and tell her someone is after me. She tells her husband to let me in and call the police.
After hours at the police station one of the officers drives me home. Chris wakes up startled to see me home so early. He can tell I'm upset and he asks what's going on. I break down in the kitchen and explain everything. I spent the rest of the morning in his arms. Maybe this will make him love me more. Maybe something like this needed to happen so he will care about me more. This could be a blessing in disguise and save our relationship. Maybe he'll stop hurting me and he'll appreciate me more. I was safe in my home but the truth is, my home was not any safer than working the night shift at 7-eleven by yourself. I've replaced one abusive man with another. Instead of being in the arms of a robber and rapist I find myself in the arms of a woman beater. He's black as well, I don't have much luck with this race. Maybe it's time for me to find myself a nice white boy.
The point of this blog is wrapped up in the title of these posts. I need therapy. A lot of us need therapy. So many of us are ashamed of what's happened to us in the past or happening now that we keep it secret from everyone who cares about us. We bottle it up inside because we are embarrassed to admit we allowed someone to treat us this way. We don't want to be judged for staying in an abusive relationship. We don't want people to hate our abuser and tell us to leave. We know we should leave but we don't want to hear it. We don't want to feel stupid for staying and we don't know how to answer the age old question of why people stay in abusive relationships. We hide everything until it destroys us from the inside out. I want this blog to become a safe place for people to come and share stories and relate to one another. Think of it as an online support group. Share your stories or just read the stories. If you've survived something traumatic let others know so that they may be able to see the light at the end of the tunnel. I want this to be a safe place where people can open up without feeling judged. I need this for my own therapy and I know this could help others as well. If you know of someone this could benefit please let them know about my blog and I encourage you to comment and share your thoughts and stories. Thanks for your support and I look forward to hearing from you.
Thursday, March 10, 2011
Therapy
It was a night like any other. I was working the night shift at 7-eleven and I had the usual variety of customers you get working the night shift. By usual I mean they were all very unusual. The people that came in were alcoholics, clubbers, strippers, cross dressers, druggies, beggers, womanizers and prostitutes. Ocassionally a "normal" stand up citizen would come in. I may be exaggerating a bit. Point is, it was an interesting place to work. Don't get me wrong, I had a lot of regular customers I really enjoyed. I was kind of like a bartender in that total strangers would come in and tell me about their crazy Jerry Springer lives. My customers were the worst part about my job and the best part about my job. Tonight one customer was going to make this the worst job I had ever had. He came in earlier that night kinda acting strange. He tried to make conversation with me but I was not interested. He looked all around the store and he and his "father" ended up leaving without buying anything. Yeah it was weird but like I stated earlier, most people were weird. This time when he came in he asked for a hot dog. I left the front part of the register to go prepare the hot dog for him. He walked behind me and I assumed he was looking at the juice and milk that was stored behind the grill. That's when I felt something on my back and a voice told me to get on the floor. I turned to tell him that he shouldn't come back here and I will prepare his food for him. Than I saw what was touching my back. It was a butchers knife and he told me to get on the floor again. I finally realized what was going on and I layed on the ground. He told me to keep my head down and don't look at his face. Doesn't he know I've already seen his face? Does he think I forgot what he looked like? I do as I'm told. I don't care enough about 7-eleven to try and fight for anything. I just want him to leave. He has me get up so I can put in my password and open the register and than he has me lay down again. He takes the money (all 26 dollars worth) and a few cartons of cigarrettes. When I think the man robbing me has what he wants and will leave I am very mistaken. He leads me to the back office with the knife still pressed to my back. I think he's trying to steal the tape or take more money from the office. He makes be bend over and from behind he reaches in my apron and steals my wallet and my phone. Maybe this time he'll leave. Once again, I'm wrong. He starts to feel my butt and I completely freeze. Why can't I think of something to do right now? Something scares him and he decides to make me go into the bathroom instead. I can see him standing behind me in the mirror. "Don't look at me! Put your head down!" Idiot, I know what you look like! Again I do as I'm told. The idiot has me bend over again and take my shoes and my pants off. I can feel his hands all over me. I'm still frozen. Think Shalese! Do something for crying out loud! At least try to move. No matter how much I tell myself to do something, I do nothing.
Even as I type my fingers are starting to freeze up and I am starting to have an anxiety attack. I may have to finish this blog later. It's getting harder to breathe. I don't know if I can physically go on with the story, my fingers are literally freezing up. I am going to settle my nerves and come back to this in the morning. I'm sorry.
Even as I type my fingers are starting to freeze up and I am starting to have an anxiety attack. I may have to finish this blog later. It's getting harder to breathe. I don't know if I can physically go on with the story, my fingers are literally freezing up. I am going to settle my nerves and come back to this in the morning. I'm sorry.
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