Broken

Many of you know that my ex came into town not too long ago. It had been 4 years since I had seen him. I was incredibly nervous, anxious and just wanted to get it over with. Tristan was a little shy at first. Chris played some pic-a-boo with him and his shyness completely went away. Kiana ran off the school bus and didn't even bother saying hi to me. She ran right past me and started yelling for dad. She ran into his arms and gave him a huge hug. It was as if he had been around the whole time. He filled in a hole that the dogs kept digging and he played with the kids while I showered. I realized this might not be so bad after all. The kids love him, he's being incredibly helpful and he's respectful. He came to Kiana's tumbling class and was very social with all the other tumbling parents. He videotaped her class and she kept looking over and waving at him to make sure he was still watching. He was having such a good time with them that I suggested he try to change his flight plans and stay longer. When I suggested it earlier he had not even given it a second thought. Once he met the kids he tried really hard to extend his trip but it was just gonna be too expensive. After the tumbling class we went shopping for Kiana's party and he paid for all of it and he bought the kids whichever toy they wanted I've never seen my kids so happy and excited. You could tell they just seemed complete. Like they finally had everything that every other kid got. It's hard to express the joy that they felt.
This was a side of him I had never seen before. I started to long for that fantasy I held onto for so many years again. The fantasy where he's a good, chivalrous, respectful, family man. This was something I so desperately wanted for so many years. I have never been so passionate about anything else in my life. I just knew that if I tried harder, loved more and gave everything I had that eventually he would become that man. It never happened. Now all these years later it's like he finally flipped the switch. I watched my old fantasy play out in front of me and for a short time I desperately wanted it again. I keep reminding myself that it's not him I want, it's the fantasy I want. I had to keep reminding myself that getting back together with him will only lead to hurt, pain, betrayal, drama and lies. I couldn't and still can't believe these old thoughts are even running through my mind when it wasn't very long ago that I wanted him to die a very slow, painful death. Okay that was a little dramatic but you get the point.
The most frustrating realization was when I realized I have never felt this way about anyone else in my life. No matter how good the guy is the passion I once felt for Chris isn't there. Sure I get infatuated once in a while and when the hormones wear off I have nothing left for them. I have no desire to make anything work with them. How can I not feel anything for good, decent guys but still have these old feelings for the man that has hurt me more than anyone else ever has or even could? Do I have a mental disorder? There is seriously something wrong with me. I have issues. It feels as if I fell in love with Chris at a time when I was still naive, gullible and still believed in fairy tales. I was able to be vulnerable and open my heart up. He took that part of me when I left. I seem incapable of feeling that way again. I want to be vulnerable, I want to put my heart on the line, I want to have my happily ever after but for some reason I can't meet anyone that makes me bring my walls down....... except Chris. He still brings those feelings out in me even though I choose not to act on them. I must be broken.
The correct answer is that I'm not broken, I just haven't met the right guy. I really hope that is the case but I can't help but be doubtful. How do you let yourself fall in love again once your eyes have been opened and you no longer believe in fairy tales?
My own mother who seems to have a very healthy marriage said "If I had known what marriage would've been like I would have gone down the aisle in fear and trembling." It seems we only get married because we don't know any better. I have dozens of friends that have been divorced and are able to find love again. Or at least in appears that way. I can't help but wonder if they are forcing it. Recently someone asked "How many times has your heart been broken?" on a singles fb forum. I couldn't believe how many people answered 2 or 3 times, 5 times, even countless times. How do they do it? How do they keep allowing their heart to be broken? I admit that I have been disappointed many times but my heart has only ever been truly broken one time. I don't know how to allow it to be broken more than that. I am broken.  

I Have PTSD

After I was robbed and nearly raped at 7-eleven I had to go to a psychiatrist in order to get workers compensation. She had to tell them that I was mentally unable to go back to work. I didn't enjoy going to therapy and I didn't feel like it helped. But I convinced her I was crazy so I got my workers comp. :-) She diagnosed me with PTSD. I laughed. POW's get PTSD. Not people like me. I served one tour to Germany. While I did see a lot of war casualties since I worked at the hospital it was not nearly enough to suffer from PTSD. I felt like I would be insulting soldiers who had been down range and watched their buddies blown to pieces, I would be insulting women who had not just had an attempted rape but were raped, sometimes repeatedly. Kids in foster care who have seen and experienced unthinkable things, refugees from Africa who watched their whole family slaughtered right before their eyes. Those are the people that deserve to say they have PTSD. I have hardly given it a second thought in all these years.
More recently I started having very vivid dreams reliving fights and feelings I had with Chris. I wake up angry, hateful and extremely hurt just like I did while I was with him. This is very frustrating because I've worked so hard to move on and forgive and get over it. I started to care for him and his welfare again. I finally got to the point where I didn't want him to get hit by a bus. Why am I having all these vivid dreams causing me to relive all the feelings I once had? About a week ago something in the house woke me up. That wasn't unusual. I frequently have anxiety at night and little things wake me up easily and I have a hard time calming down and getting back to sleep. This time when I woke up scared I was sure someone was breaking into my house. I was back on 2909 Taft St in Texas. Not only was someone going to break in but they were going to hurt me. I was a sitting duck just waiting for something terrible to happen. I started to have a panic attack and I couldn't breath or move. I was waiting for Brandy to start barking and scare the intruder away. She never did. It felt like I laid there for an eternity frozen and scared before reality finally started to sink in. I haven't lived on Taft St in 6 years. Brandy has been gone for 3 years. I'm in a safe house in a safe neighborhood and if anyone was trying to break in my dogs would be going crazy. I finally calmed down enough to move and when I did I felt Kiana sleeping next to me. Oh yeah! I have kids now!
This was something completely different than anything I had ever felt. It wasn't a dream. I was wide awake and my mind literally went back 6 years in time to the worst time of my life and I didn't know where I lived, didn't know I had kids, didn't know I was single now. It was terrifying. After the attempted rape I caught the guy who did it and he went to prison for 25 years since it was his third felony. His friends approached me afterwards and told me that they heard what I did to their friend. That one sentence instilled more fear in me than anything else I can think of. His friends knew I was responsible for putting him away. They knew where I lived and they lived right around the corner from me. They knew what I drove and they knew that I was left alone from 4 am until 9 am every morning while Chris was at PT and meetings. I never slept during those hours. I laid there waiting for his friends to break into my house. I waited for them to get their revenge. This time they wouldn't let me get away. They wouldn't let me live after doing what they wanted with me. They wouldn't give me the chance to call the cops and help put them in prison. I never slept while I lived in that house or that town. I still have a hard time sleeping.
I started thinking back on why I had this experience where I went back in time, the dreams I kept having where I relived fights I had with Chris, the anxiety and panic attacks I get when I go to a neighborhood that reminds of the hood, the stereotyping I do when I see people that remind me of the scum I lived amongst. Than it finally hit me that the psycho lady was right. These are the symptoms of PTSD. I have PTSD. It feels good to say that without any apologies. I have PTSD.
There doesn't seem to be one defining moment that caused it. It seems to be the whole 2 years that I lived in Texas that caused it. All the events, drama, and tragedy that took place in such a short period of time proved to be too much for my mind to take in. 90 % of the time I am 100% fine. This seems to be a pretty mild case. It doesn't prevent me from working, going out, making friends, or functioning in general. The anxiety attacks are pretty calm and almost no one sees it happen. I'm not really sure where I go from here but I think I'll be going up.

There Are Worse Things Than Being Single

I ran for the door to get out. I was furious! I can't believe he has the nerve to push me into a wall. I'm the one that should be mad. He was the one flirting with anything that had boobs. I was sitting right next to him and these girls are all up on him. Not only is he not stopping them but he's encouraging them! He pulled me back in the barracks room by my hair and slammed my head against the coffee table. Than he picked me up by my neck. I can't breathe, I can't even fight him. It's like fighting against a rock. He really is as solid as he looks. Just when I'm about to pass out he releases me. I fall to the ground coughing and in tears. I run for the door again, once again he pulls me back in by my hair and once again I feel my head being slammed into the wall, locker, table, anything he can find. It's clear I'm not going to leave his room tonight. We're in a building full of other soldiers and there's no way he's about to let anyone else see what he's done to me. I can't believe what he's done to me. I guess I should've seen the warning signs. I knew he was capable of being violent but I thought I was the exception to his anger. I thought I was the one person in his life who could make him less angry at the world. I didn't realize I was about to become the person he takes his anger for the world out on. I stopped struggling to get away, it was useless. The more I fought the more beatings I took. Once I had no more fight in me he finally calmed down. He told me to get in the shower and get a hold of myself. I did as he said. I sat in the tub and sobbed. When I finally pulled myself together and came out and looked in the mirror. My neck was covered in red strangulation bruises. I had a terrible headache. I decided to wait until he fell asleep and than leave for good. That's exactly what I should've done. Instead I came out of the bathroom and he had made up the bed for me. I laid down and he laid down next to me. He started to sob. I had never even seen him cry before. He kept saying "I'm so sorry baby, I'm so sorry." I believed him and I stayed. In fact I enjoyed it. He had never told me he was sorry before. He was always able to manipulate every situation and convince me and himself that he had done nothing wrong. For once he was admitting that he was wrong and that he was sorry. I was going to be the best girlfriend ever and stay by his side. This experience was going to make us stronger. He was going to know that even though he beat the hell outta me I still stayed next to him. I wasn't going to be like everyone else in his life and abandon him. I was going to save him and it felt great.
I started this blog to help myself get over the hurt. I was angry and bitter and I needed an outlet. This was my way of telling my family and friends what really went on. Keeping it a secret was eating me up. It worked. Typing my experiences was such a release for me. Every time I made a post I felt a huge burden lift off my shoulders and I started to become happy. I haven't posted for a long time because I feel better now. I don't need the release as much. I'm posting this blog for all my new single friends. Many of you have been through hell and back. Many of you can relate to me and I can relate to you. If you're reading this I hope it helps you to realize that you're not alone. So many of us have lived through the abuse, humiliation, manipulation and embarrassment. If you take anything from this I hope it's that you can make it. There is a light at the end of the tunnel and you can be happy alone. You can be happy without the abuser in your life. In fact being alone can make you the happiest you've ever been.
I thought that was the end of the abuse. It was only the beginning. It progressively became more and more frequent. He would apologize and I would believe him. One night he had beat me so bad that I thought I had finally reached my breaking point. After he had choked me out to the point of passing out and slammed my head into every hard object in the room I felt like I finally had it in me to leave. Once he calmed down the abuse didn't stop there. He told me I was no longer allowed to use the furniture or the kitchen. He went as far as to give me a spot in the spare room floor and tell me I had to sleep there from now on. I agreed with everything he said. I didn't put up a fight at all. I didn't argue with him because I knew I was going to leave in the morning after he went to work anyways. He was going to come home to an empty house and I would be on the road driving to who knows where. It didn't matter where I drove as long as I got away from him. After he went to work I started packing my belongings. I was past feeling by this point. Not only was he beating me but he was an emotional manipulator (I think all abusers are). He was cheating on me, he was controlling my every move, he was throwing me out of the house for every little thing. I literally kept my bags packed because I knew it was only a matter of time before he'd lose his temper and throw my belongings out and I would be forced to sleep in my car or go to a friends house. I had finally reached my limit. Right before I was about to get in my car and drive away for good he showed up. He showed up with a diamond necklace. He must've known I was fed up. He gave me the necklace and asked me to forgive him. Once again I believed him. Once again I stayed to be abused some more.
It became a regular occurrence in our home and every time I had to wear a turtle neck to cover the marks or take pain killers to get rid of the pounding headache. Every time he became less apologetic and more abusive. I can tell you from personal experience that the emotional abuse I experienced was just as hurtful and sometimes more hurtful than the physical abuse. The attempted suicide I talked about in a previous post was one of the most hurtful manipulative things I've been through. After the attempted rape I spoke of in my first two posts he had convinced me that I was not doing enough for him emotionally and that I was selfish for not thinking of how the robbery and molestation affected him. We stay in these relationships because the abusers are masters at manipulation, guilt, control and brain washing. They make you believe you'll never be happy without them, no one will want you, you aren't capable of being alone and you're lucky just to be in their presence. I can tell you that you can be happy alone, someone else will want you and you will be lucky to NOT be in their presence. You can raise your kids alone. You are so much stronger than you give yourself credit for. Please find that strength and know that there will be better days. There will be happy days. There truly are worse things than being single!

Parenting in a world full of parent experts.

By the time I was 12 I was an expert on raising kids. I loved babysitting for my brothers and sisters and members in my ward. When other peoples kids threw fits and acted up I would always think to myself, "When I have kids they're not going to get away with any of that." I was simply going to discipline them the way kids needed to be disciplined and my kids would learn to behave. If they threw a fit in the store because they didn't get a treat than I would take them straight to the car and leave so they learn that fits don't work. If they start crying in the restaurant than once again we'll go straight home so they don't get to eat and magically they will stop throwing fits. When I was a teenager and started rebelling I became an expert on raising teens. If I listen to my kids when they are teens than they won't act out. If I'm approachable than I will always be their best friend. I knew how to keep my future kids from acting the way I did in high school.
How is it that an expert like myself gave birth to devil children!? Do you mean to say I don't know everything about parenting? When I was pregnant with Kiana everyone warned me on how hard my life was going to be after she was born. I was prepared for the worst and I was pleasantly surprised. As a newborn she was easy peasy. Of course I was sleep deprived and getting use to carrying a car seat everywhere I go but she was a good baby. I fell in love and she could do no wrong. I couldn't see what all the other parents were warning me about. This was fun! I guess I really am a parenting expert and my kids will be angels because of it........ and than she turned 2. She turned into a total diva. She didn't know that your whiny voice is not your regular voice. She screamed, threw things including her own head and kicked, hit, bit and cried. That's when I realized I know nothing! Than Tristan came along. He was the happiest, smiliest, funniest baby ever. That lasted for about a year. He hit the terrible two's early. Now I have two of the hardest children ever!
I have learned that all kids are incredibly and beautifully unique. Sometimes that uniqueness is also what makes them monsters. If you are lucky enough to have a well behaved, easy child than count your blessings and stop having kids cause your luck will run out eventually.  My mother raised 13 kids and always tells me how she had several easy kids in a row. She thought she had this parenting thing down. Than my older brother and I came along to show her otherwise. We turned her world upside down and she had already raised several kids. Shouldn't she know everything by now?
It's hard raising kids in a world full of judging inexperienced experts. When my kids hit, bite, pull hair and scream at each other I can feel their condescending eyes looking at me as if to say "Look at my baby, she's perfect because I know how to parent. You should really learn to control your kids." Sometimes I feel like I must be wearing a sign on my forehead that says, "Please tell me what I'm doing wrong with my kids because I'm clueless." I usually hold back when the experts like to give me their opinion but I would really like to say, "When you have raised at least 6 perfectly behaved angels past their teen years than maybe I will hear your opinion." Don't get me wrong, it's not that I don't want to better myself or that I don't think anyone has anything good to say. It's just that I already know my kids and I aren't perfect and I don't need to be reminded of it every time they act up. If you think you can do a better job than you are more than willing to take them for a while and fix them. I will go backpacking in Europe and you can just give me a call when they've turned into angels.  
I use to be an expert myself so I have to keep myself from judging the other experts of the world. In fact sometimes I turn back into the expert I once was and I have to catch myself.
At the end of the day when I put my kids to sleep and they give me a big hug and a kiss than I am satisfied with the job I've done. When my daughter puts her arms around my neck and tells me I'm her best friend in the whole world, all of a sudden I don't care what any of the parent experts think.

Joint Custody

The topic today is a little controversial and I'm kinda worried about expressing my opinions on the matter. If you don't agree with me I completely understand and I'm not trying to change your mind. I have no problem just agreeing to disagree. To be honest I'm still not sure how I really feel on the matter.
Divorce can destroy your children and the battles that come after the divorce can be even worse. I think the worst battle that children and the parents have to go through is the custody battle. Every case is different and every case has there own unique set of trials. It's hard enough trying to decide how often each parent gets to see the kids and what's fair for both parents. It's harder trying to decide what's fair to the children. It gets even more complicated when one parent doesn't think the other parent is fit enough to have the kids or when one parent lies about the other parent to make matters more complicated. There are so many different scenarios that complicate coming to a reasonable agreement. I think that often times the parents get so caught up on what they get and what they have to compromise that they forget to think about would be the best thing for the children.
I dated a man with kids. He was currently in custody battles with his ex wife and I got a little taste at how ugly it can be. The kids stayed with there mom until she went to work. She dropped them off with dad in the morning and dad dropped them off at day care a few hours later when he went to work. Mom picked them up from daycare after she got off work. The schedule didn't run like this every day. It varied quite a bit and I never completely got the hang of it. One or two days out of the week the two older kids got to stay the night at dads house. They still had not come to a final agreement and went to mediation several times to try and work things out. She was very determined to make sure he didn't get much time with the kids. She would rather have a babysitter take them than let him take the kids. She would have done just that if the court hadn't told her that he would watch the kids if he was available. Dad made all kinds of accusations against her saying that all she does is watch tv and ignore the kids all day. I got the feeling he wasn't completely innocent either. I think he got home from work and played video games the rest of the night while the kids watched movies. I don't know all the details and I could be wrong. The point is that both parents wanted the kids more than the other one did. After I got more of a feel for them I had to wonder if the motive was money. The more often dad had the kids meant less child support. If mom has them the most than that means she gets more child support. I began to question whether or not they just couldn't get enough of their kids or if they had become too obsessed with the money battles. Of course I never brought up my concerns. If I had questioned his true motive I think it would have been the end of the world and I would get the guilt trip from hell. In the meantime the kids were stuck in the middle and being hauled around like crazy. On the upside these kids will always know that both of their parents want them and love them. Many kids don't get that from one parent let alone two.
Most people believe that every kid should have a father...... but at what cost? When you hear about how hard he's working to have his kids as much as possible you would initially think he's awesome for being a good father. I have to wonder if he's really doing his kids a favor by fighting tooth and nail to have them more than the mother.
I have never had to do custody battles. Chris is way to lazy to embark on something like that. He would have to move to Utah and prove he's fit to be in their lives. It's not going to happen. He values his time way too much. I prefer my situation over many joint custody situations. I don't have to worry about my kids being passed around all the time. I don't have to worry about there well being while I am not with them. They are never disappointed because there father is not living up to certain expectations. They are very happy right now. It might be a different story when they are older and want to know why there dad doesn't seem to care. I think they are better off not having to be in the middle of custody battles.
Sure there are times that I wish I had some more help. It would be nice to take the kids to their father for a weekend and get a break. Every mom wants a break though, whether they are single or happily married. The break would not be worth the drama that would follow. I will not be pushing Chris to be more involved any time soon. I honestly Chris's laziness is doing my kids a big favor right now. Their lives would be much more hectic if he cared more.
When people find out my kids do not have their father in their lives I don't want them to feel bad for them or for me. My kids have more people than they could ever ask for that do care a whole lot and the missing dad is a blessing in disguise.   

A Gypsy No More

When I was 5 our family moved from Shumway AZ, to Spanish Fork, UT. It wasn't a big deal that I can remember. At that age your happy as long as you're with your family. I don't have many memories of Shumway but I wish I did. My older siblings talk about it like it's the greatest place on earth so I'm a little bummed I don't remember it very well. Spanish fork was good to me though. We lived in a very tight knit neighborhood. It was full of other little girls my age so I have lots of memories growing up with the other kids in the area. We could run around everyday going from one house to the next. We spent a lot of time playing in the alfalfa fields next to us, catching butterflies, pretending to be Indians and all kinds of other little girl things. All of our families got along with each other and had neighborhood parties, we helped each other out and it was a very good time in my life. I grew up thinking that this was the norm. I didn't realize how lucky we were.
When I was 12 we moved to Mapleton, UT. It was not very far from Spanish Fork at all but to me it felt like a whole new country. At first I was excited about the move because I have ADD anyways so a change of scenery is always exciting. The excitement went away pretty quickly. Friends are not very easy to make when your 12. That's the awkward age when you try wearing makeup for the first time and try shaving your legs without your mom finding out. Kids start to care about the clothes you wear and how pretty you are. It wasn't like when I was 5 and made friends with every girl my age because we didn't care about petty little things. Our new neighborhood wasn't much fun either. No kids my age and no unity between neighbors like we had before. To make a long story short I started hanging out with the wrong crowd and I ended up moving to Gunnison, UT with my sister when I was 16.
Gunnison was good to me. I got involved with sports. I loved my sister and brother in law and I was getting my life back on track. During the summer I moved back to Mapleton with my family and when my senior year started I headed back down to Gunnison to finish out high school and my beloved sports. After my senior year I went back to Mapleton.
This is the time in my life when I probably should have gone to college but instead I joined the Army. I spent about 2 months in South Carolina, 2 months in Virginia and another 2 months in Texas to complete my army training. Shortly after I returned home I was deployed to Germany for a year. Germany will always have a special place in my heart and I hope to return one day. After Germany I moved to Texas with my boyfriend that I met in Germany.
I spent 2 years of hell in Texas but that's a whole new story. If you've read my other blogs than you know all about that. After I left Texas I came back to Utah to have my first baby. I stayed with my mom for a few weeks in Mapleton before I found my own place in Orem, UT. Well kinda my own place, I rented a basement. My land lord was amazing and I'm so glad I became friends with her when I did. I stayed with her for 6 months and than I moved back home to save up for a business my sister and I were supposed to go in on together. That didn't work out as planned so I got my own place in Springville, UT. I stayed there for 6 months and moved up north to West Jordan to go in on another business. That went even worse. I rented a few rooms and after a few decided I needed my own place so I moved to an apartment in West Jordan. The business idea was turning out to be an epic fail and I had decided to break up with my long distance boy friend so I moved back home once more.
I stayed in my parents basement for over a year and now I have my own place in Spanish Fork about half a mile from our old house that I loved so much. That's right, I have lived in................ hang on I need to go back and count......... 12 different places and I've moved more than that. This time I'm not in a temporary housing situation until I figure out what to do. I'm not saving up for anything bigger and better. This is my bigger and better. It's a rent to own so I don't own it yet. I hope to own it by next year. My kids each have there own room. I have a beautiful back yard that they absolutely love. I grew up playing in this same neighborhood. The people are different now but for some reason I get this feeling that I'm home now, like I'm back from a long vacation. I love watching my kids play on there new trampoline in this awesome yard. I love watching them pick grapes off our vines and swing on the homemade swing I put on our big apricot tree. I feel like they are able to grow up the same way I did. My kids have never really gone without. They were spoiled rotten in my parents home and when I wasn't living at home Kiana always got everything she needed and than some. I've always worked hard to make sure they are well taken care of but this time it feels different. This time they are enjoying the pink and blue rooms that I provided for them instead of my parents guest bedroom in their basement. They're enjoying the yard that I have provided instead of the yard my parents or land lords have provided. They're in a house where they can make all kinds of good memories and I take great pride in the fact that I am giving them the opportunity to do that. I have been saying I WAY to much. If it wasn't for the man upstairs looking after my kids and I than none of this would be possible. I give him all the credit.
The point is that I finally feel like I'm home. I don't know what the future holds, things never go the way I plan so I've given up on trying to say where I will be in 5 years. I could eat all my words and move again in 6 months and continue to feel like a traveling gypsy. I don't plan on it though. I really hope this time my home really is home for me and my little family. Right now I don't feel like a gypsy. Right now I feel like I've gone around the world and met some amazing people but I'm back where I belong now.

I need my Angels

One day God was watching me from his throne up high. He watched me as I made him cry, disappointed him, grit his teeth, pull his hair out and scare him to death. He also watched as I made him smile, laugh, made him proud and He loved me through it all. He knew I was about to receive one of his angels. He knew I needed a special angel.
God  called over a little girl..... his little girl. She was beautiful with big brown eyes, dark curly hair and an amazing smile. He said "Kiana my dear, you are going to go be a part of this earth life you see down there." He told her to look down on me. He told her that I needed a special angel. He told her that I did not deserve such a beautiful angel but no one deserves his angels.
I received this little angel and she was the most beautiful angel I had ever seen. I watched her as she made me cry, disappointed me, grit my teeth, pull my hair out and scare me to death. I also watched as she made me smile, laugh and make me proud and I loved her through it all. I did not deserve this special little angel. I certainly did not deserve two little angels.
God had other plans for me. He called over one of his most unique and special angels. He said "Tristan my boy, look down and see her. You will be one of her angels on this earth life. She is not worthy of such a gift but this is what she needs. Kiana has already gone to her and I need you to join the two of them. She does not deserve you but no one deserves my angels.
I received a beautiful little boy. He had big brown eyes, dark curly hair and an amazing smile.  I watched him as he made me cry, disappointed me, grit my teeth, pull my hair out and scare me to death. I also watched as he made me smile, laugh and make me proud and I loved him through it all. Tristan deserved so much more than me but I was lucky enough to receive him.
I got on my knees and stared at my two precious angels laying side by side in my bed. Tears filled my eyes as I looked up to the heavens. Father, you have given me not one but two of your best angels. They have kept me going through all the hard times. They have given me a reason to wake up and do the best I can every day. I will not be the perfect parent, I will make dozens of mistakes along the way. I will not be able to protect them from everything but I will do the best I can to provide a place where they will be loved unconditionally no matter what decisions they make. I have no right to ask you for more than what you have already given me. I cannot help myself and I must ask you anyway. Father, please do not take them away from me. I know you must miss your angels and it is selfish for me to want to keep them. I am not strong enough without them. I cannot imagine doing any of this without my little angels. I am weak and delicate. I need these little angels to stay with me as long as possible. I know they will return to you one day but I beg you to wait until I have already returned to you. I am completely undeserving of my request. A better person would not ask for so much. I am not a better person and I need my angels. Amen.

Temporary check out of motherhood

I wasn't able to find anybody willing to watch Tristan for a few minutes and put him down for a nap while I went to church. I knew from experience that taking Tristan and Kiana to church meant I would get nothing from it. I would spend 3 hours chasing Tristan and trying to get Kiana to be quiet. At least Kiana could go to nursery after the first hour but Tristan would have to stay with me the whole time. Ahhh, what the heck! I guess I'll give it a try.
 Tristans latest game is to do everything he can to get away from where ever I want him to be. If he see's me with a fresh diaper he takes off running so I can't change him. If he see's me with food and his sippy full of juice he takes off running. He will be so thirsty and so hungery but he still runs away simply because he knows I want him to eat. So if he knows I want him to sit in Sunday school with me he makes it his number one mission to try and escape the class room. Infact if I were to sum it up I would have to say that his overall mission in life is to try and make my life as difficult as possible.
Now to my sweet angel Kiana. With her it is constant whining. No matter how much I try to get her to talk like a normal person she always falls back on whining. She is one of the most hard headed little girls I know. It is a constant power struggle between me and her. She throws tantrums like you've never seen before. She will sit in time out for half the day and still not seem to get that her life would be much more pleasant if she would just cooperate with me for once. Even my mother who has raised 13 children always says "I have never seen a toddler as stubborn as this one!"
You can imagine how well church was going for me. We sat in the foyer and spent the hour chasing Tristan up and down the hallways. He even made it into a few classrooms full of people laughing and giggling. Meanwhile Kiana was whining because she wanted a treat or because Tristan was touching her or taking her crayons. She had to use the bathroom two times during that hour even though she went potty right before we left. I would hold Tristan with one hand and help Kiana pull down her tights and than pull them up when she was done all while I'm trying to balance in rediculous heels that no mother of two little kids should be wearing. I love these heels and I've only worn them once before. The last time I wore them I swore I would never attempt that again while I have little kids. Now I'm wondering why I attempted it again. I know why I did though, I did it because everyonce in a while I want to feel like I can still do some of the things I use to do before kids. I would sit back on the couch when I got the kids rounded up and I would do it all with a smile because the father sitting across from me seemed to think my kids were adorable and I didn't want to let on how frustrated I was. I wanted anyone who saw me think that I was doing nothing more than loving motherhood.
In my head I was screaming. In my head I was wondering why I'm even here, I haven't heard a thing the speakers have talked about. In my head I had decided the first hour was all I could handle with both the kids. I would take Kiana to nursery and than I will run home and put Tristan down for a nap. I will come back to church kid free and able to enjoy the remaining two hours. Maybe I will even feel the spirit. I'm feeling something right now but I think it is the furthest thing from the spirit you can get.
Finally the first hour had ended and it was time to take Kiana to nursery. Of course she wanted to go potty again before she went. Once again I held Tristan with one hand and tried to help Kiana with the other. When I needed both my hands I put Tristan down for a second on the bathroom floor. It was just enough time for him to crawl part way under the other stall and give the poor lady using it a surprise. I leave Kiana for a second and grab Tristan. It was just enough time for her to shut her stall door and lock it so she can go potty by herself. I look up and the bathroom now has a line full of women waiting. Kiana should be done by now but she's messing around in her privately locked stall. I look through the gap in the stall door and see her taking the lid off the tank and than desperately trying to keep it from falling of the floor. I'm doing everything I can to not yell at her and calmly tell her to unlock the door right now. She finally unlocks it and with my one free hand I reach in and grab her arm and pull her out so someone else can use the bathroom. Her tights and underwear are still around her ankles and she lays on the floor to throw a tantrum in the middle of everyone and her bare but for all to see. All the women look at me in disgust as if I was a total failure when it comes to parenting. All of them exept one, she offers to hold Tristan for me so I can get control of Kiana. I get her dressed and wash her hands and than I take Tristan back. As I see everyone staring at me and I feel a huge lump in my chest. My face turns dark red and I'm now fighting back tears. Why am I going to cry!? This isn't new to me. It's not like this has been my first hard day. I deal with these kids all the time. Yet, I'm about to cry. I run out in the hallway to get away from the staring eyes. I drop Kiana off at nursery and tell the leader that I will be running Tristan home for a nap. She's fine with it and I am now doing everything I can to not sprint out of the church doors. I make it outside and now I have tears streaming down my face before I even get Tristan into the car. Once we are buckled in I break down completely and start crying uncontrolably. I try to figure out why the heck I'm crying and I do figure it out. I'm crying because I'm tired and worn out. I'm angry no one would babysit Tristan even for a few minutes. I'm angry that thier dad is out playing and doing whatever he wants while I take care of his kids. I'm crying because I'm tired of people looking at my out of control kids thinking they would do a better job. I'm angry at everyone who has ever told me I don't know what if feels like to really be a single parent because I have lived with my mother for the last year. I'm angry at everyone who thinks my job is easy and I have it made. Long story short, I'm angry at everything and everyone.
I finally get home and lay Tristan down in his crib. I collapse on my bed and decide I will go back to church once I have calmed down and it's not so obvious that I've been crying like a baby over nothing. An hour and a half later I wake up. Oh no what have I done? I left Kiana at church with the nursery leaders and completely checked out of motherhood. At least I did not sleep past church and I still have time to go pick her up. Hopefully she didn't need to go potty or need me for any reason. Hopefully the leaders don't realize that I have abandoned her and not come back. When I go pick her up she is totally fine. The leader did take her potty without me and she didn't seem to mind that I was not there incase anything had happened. I unintentionally had a temporary check out of motherhood and everything is fine.
I am still tired and slightly annoyed but the little nap I had has helped very much. I have a day off tomorrow so I will spend it playing with my kids and getting a few things done. Tomorrow I will have lots and lots of great things to say about my little angels but today I am tired and that is ok. At least I think it's ok.

Single Forever?

Do you remember the first time you fell in love? Of course you do, no one forgets their first. Do you remember what it felt like to think that you could never live without that person? Some of us got lucky and married our first loves, high school sweethearts or person we had our first kiss with. However, most of us had our hearts broken a time or two. It took a lot of us some trial and error before we got it right and some of us (like myself) still haven't got it right.
When I wrote the article called Life After Divorce, I really was happy with myself. I was happy knowing that I could be perfectly content alone and I was very happy knowing that you can move on after anything or anyone. It is empowering to know that you no longer HAVE to be with someone. You know you can make it by yourself so you know you will never settle for less than what you deserve again. Maybe I have taken that a little too far....
I really cannot imagine a person that could make me feel like I could never live without them. That mindset has been destroyed. I have doubts about everyone I get close to. I remember what it felt like to fall in love and never want to be alone again. I remember what it felt like to believe in happily ever after. I remember what it felt like to be able to put all of your trust into one person. I remember what it felt like to be blind and not see any faults or red flags. I will never get that back again. I'm still glad that I know there is life after heartbreak. I'm still glad to know that my kids and I are going to be just fine. Sometimes I wish I was capable of living a fantasy. Sometimes I wish life was like a movie that has a happy ending. Sometimes I wish I could still be naive and think that the fairy tale is possible. Sometimes I'm so angry that the trust and total faith in people has been destroyed. It can't be taken back. Once you have seen what the world is capable of you can never undo it.
What makes it really hard is knowing that my kids deserve more. My kids deserve two parents that love them unconditionally. They deserve to know what a real dad is and not think that every man in his twenties or thirties is dad. Kiana see's her cousins call there own dad and she does not understand that each child is supposed to have a specific dad. She really thinks that it's a title given to anyone in a certain age range. It makes me want to cry just thinking about it. On the other hand I know that I cannot marry the wrong person simply because my kids need a dad. I know LOTS of kids that would be better off with only one of their parents. My kids have so many people that love them so much. They may not have a real father but they are not short on love. I really do believe that one day my kids and I will live the fantasy. We will complete our little family. Until that day I will do the best I can to give them everything they need. I will make sure they know without a doubt that they always have a home full of love to come to. I will make sure I always provide a safe place for them when the world wants to beat them down. I will not be perfect. I will make lots of mistakes but I will do the best I can for them.
One day I may even believe in fairy tales again. One day someone might make me think I could never be alone again. I don't think it will happen anytime soon though. Single and I seem to get along just fine for now.   

Forgiveness- Easier said than done but so totally worth it!

About a year ago I remember sitting in sunday school. The lesson was about repentence. One of the steps to repenting was forgiveness. If we cannot forgive ourselves and others than we cannot expect to be forgiven. I felt a lump in my chest. Everyone agreed with the teacher and I just got frustrated. Why is it so easy for everyone to just simply forgive the people that have done them wrong. Just because you verbally say I forgive you does not mean that you have done so in your heart. How was I ever going to be forgiven of my sins if one of the requirements is to forgive those who have hurt me? I wanted so badly to forgive everyone. I hated being angry and hurt and resentul. I really truly did not want to hate anyone. The fact is that I did hate and no matter how much I wanted to move on I simply couldn't. As I sat there in sunday school I felt very trapped. I can make all of the physical changes necessary to be forgiven but how am I going to make the emotional changes needed? How can I free myself of my own mental prison?
I got some council from one of my church leaders that changed my perception on things quite a bit. He told me that he had a very hard time forgiving his own father for the things he had done to him and his mother while he was a boy. He is an old man now but he still finds himself getting angry for past experiences. For the most part he has moved on and has learned to love his father. However, he still struggles at times to forgive him of everything. He explained that forgiving people is not something that happens all at once. It is a life long process and some things can be almost impossible to forgive. Some of us have to make an effort every day to let go of the past and truly try to forgive. The important thing is that we try. He counciled me to pray for the ones that I cannot forgive. If you pray for someone long enough eventually you will care for them and want the best for them regardless of any wrong doings. It was very relieving to find that a man as great and wonderful as he has a hard time forgiving as well. He's struggled with it for his whole life. I took what he said to heart and I started praying for those who had done me wrong. I prayed that I might have it in me to forgive and remember that I am not perfect and there are people out there that I have wronged and I hope they can find it in them to forgive me as well. Slowly but surely it started to work.
This morning I talked to Chris on the phone. I found that I actually wanted things to be going well for him. He was kind and respectful. He never got mad and he wasn't being manipulative. It was a breath of fresh air. Don't worry, I have no intention of getting back with him. It was just awesome to care about him. He is taking care of his autistic daughter now and I think she will force him to grow even more. I respect the work he has done and is doing to better himself. I gotta say that I still don't love him anymore but I do want what's best for him and his daughter. It is so freeing to not be angry anymore. Life is so much happier when you care about everyone regardless of any wrong doings. I know that I will still have moments that make me angry. I will still have nights where I stay up thinking about all the things that could be better if he never did some of the things he did. I'm ok with the fact that this will take me a lifetime to completely be rid of any bad feelings and I understand that forgiveness is not something you say you will do and than you just do it. It takes work, lots and lots of work.
I can testify that if you work at it you will feel like a burden has been lifted and you will be so much happier. Please don't beat yourself up if you feel like it is not possible to forgive or you just don't want to right now. Please understand that it's ok if you're simply not able to do so right here and right now. Please try to work on it though. I will get off my soap box and stop trying to preach to you all. I just hope this can help someone feel a little better about the forgiveness process, I know it has helped me a lot. There is a light at the end of the tunnel and I can see it now.

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.

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.

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.   

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!"

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.

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. 

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. 

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.