I couldn’t help but wonder

You know...

I’ve lost my sparkle. The days of being filled with an effortless joy have seemed to escape my body. I know it’s in there, just hidden away right now as I ponder all the things in my life.

I was talking to my mom today about someone I fell in love with. She asked me a question and the answer was I was scared. Scared to be truly myself. Scared to have heavy expectations suddenly placed so heavy on my shoulders. Why was I scared? Because I couldn’t do those things? No, that wasn’t it. I was scared of failing someone I cared so much about.

But then I got to thinking. Was I failing myself?

My mom pointed out to me how much I’ve progressed this year. And she was right.
I left a situation that stunted me for far too long. I’ve done something I never thought possible. Stand on my own two feet. And I feel proud of myself. Proud that I’m doing all that I can to support myself and my kids. I’m trying to do what is best for them. I feel proud that I’ve walked away from someone who was unkind to me, I feel proud I walked away from my past self, the girl who had zero self worth. I wasn’t sure I’d ever get it back. I wasn’t sure if I’d ever be myself again. All I cared about was getting my babies safe and in a happy environment.

I remember one night Jeremy had just slapped me. He was high, and being awful.
I ran in my kids room and locked the door. They sat on the edge of their beds and I burst into tears. In that moment I made a promise to them. I told them that soon we will move far away from this place. And we will live in a big beautiful house and the fighting would stop. I promised them they would never have to see/hear their father act this way again. I promised they would be safe and loved.  I told them we deserved so much more. I hugged them and slept in their room that night. Taking turns holding them. I was determined. I had made a promise.

A week later we moved to Utah and haven’t looked back since.

I’ve made a promise to myself and to them that one day I’ll make all of their dreams come true.  I look how far I’ve come. I have come so far, and I am proud of myself. I feel proud of the person I’m becoming in this painful process. It hasn’t been easy. Learning how to be an adult at the age of (31 at the time). Finances, learning to do it all on my own. It’s been wonderful. It’s been hard. I’ve had my major downs, I’ve had my up’s. I’ve had to learn a lot of things the hard way in the process.

I finally feel like I know who I am. I am strong, I’m a fighter. I don’t give up. And I do it for them. Always for them. They are my world, they make me want to be a better person for them.

Sure I’m not rich, and I have my flaws. But at least I know every day I’m working towards a better tomorrow, even if today is hard. And I’m lonely in the process of my self discovery. But I wouldn’t have it any other way. I like the person I’ve chosen to become. Even though I’ve lost my sparkle, I’ll get there soon. I can feel it bubbling at the surface, waiting to break free again. It’s so close, I can feel it. I’ve made a promise to myself, and to my kids. I love the people in my world too much to let them down.
   

A better/son or daughter

Sometimes in the morning I am petrified and can't move
Awake but cannot open my eyes
And the weight is crushing down on my lungs
I know I can't breathe
And hope someone will save me this time

And your mother's still calling you insane and high
Swearing it's different this time
And you tell her to give in to the demons that possess her
And that God never blessed her insides

Then you hang up the phone
And feel badly for upsetting things
Crawl back into bed to dream of a time

When your heart was open wide
And you loved things just because
Like the sick and the dying

And sometimes when you're on,
You're really fucking on
And your friends they sing along
And they love you

But the lows are so extreme
That the good seems fucking cheap
And it teases you for weeks in its absence

But you'll fight and you'll make it through
You'll fake it if you have to
And you'll show up for work with a smile

And you'll be better and you'll be smarter
And more grown up and a better daughter
Or son and a real good friend

And you'll be awake, you'll be alert
You'll be positive though it hurts
And you'll laugh and embrace all your friends

You'll be a real good listener
You'll be honest, you'll be brave
You'll be handsome, you'll be beautiful

You'll be happy

Your ship may be coming in
You're weak but not giving in
To the cries and the wails of the valley below

And your ship may be coming in
You're weak but not giving in
And you'll fight it
You'll go out fighting all of them

Oh hi

Oh hi, remember me?
I stupidly had 3, count them UNO DOS TRES, cups of major caffeine purchased at your local shitty gas station where I sat in my car and listened to depressing music for 4 hours. Because I didn’t want to go home and lay in bed alone with my thoughts, restless. Instead I felt like the local Walmart parking lot deserved my attention and thought provoking state of mind. Do you know how many people just hang out in the Walmart parking lot at 1am? I could tell you if you’re really interested. Slide into my DM’s for the hot scoop.

Sometimes playing Coldplay’s album X+Y (the best album of Coldplay’s! BTW FYI don’t @ me) on a cold Utah night with nothing but your thoughts is super therapeutic it turns out? No I’m serious try it. Here’s your starter kit: crappy gas station drug of choice. Mine was peppermint mocha, which PS I highly recommend but not if you plan on going to sleep anytime soon. So maybe don’t cross that one off your bucket list? And then don’t forget to go back for seconds (and in my case thirds. I may need help. Keep your local intervention councilor on speed dial just in case). It also probably doesn’t help that’s the only thing I’ve had to consume today. Well that and a protein bar at 7am. Don’t worry though, my head is pounding like a B, so learn from my mistakes. I feel like at this point I’ve probably turned you off to the entire idea altogether? No but hear me out, hear me out. Sometimes you just have to be alone with your thoughts. And here’s what my thoughts taught me. Stay with me here, I’m on a roll, bob.

I miss blogging.

Like a lot.

I miss story telling. Remember when I used to tell stories? And wanted to write a book? Remember?!
Do you? You don’t? It’s totally cool I don’t blame you, we can still be friends.

The thing is i lost myself. My voice. My sense of humor.

I wanted to write my story.

My mom, aunt, and grandma told me it would be good for me to write again. To tell my story.

The one where I was abused, and in a horrible marriage. Maybe it will help you? Or someone you know? Or anyone I hope.

To the girl who also was dragged up the stairs by her hair. Or maybe you also thought he broke your jaw? To the girl who is scared to leave because she doesn’t know what to do? To the girl who used to want to be a comedic writer for a living, too. Maybe my story can help someone, anyone. Gosh I hope.

And let me say I don’t write this for you to feel sorry for me. When I tell people I’m getting a divorce/divorced the first response is “im so sorry”. And I reply “no, don’t be it’s great!” Because that means I did it. I finally did what I knew I should have done on my wedding night. What I knew I should have done the first time he called me a bitch. The first time he hit me. Or the time he shattered glass at my bare feet and punched me in the stomach. I should have. Oh how I wish I had the courage. I want to shake that young girl and tell her you are enough. You do not deserve this. Where was my nanny to rock me on her lap and repeat to me daily “you is kind, you is smart, you is important” in a heavy southern accent. Also, the help is like, such a good movie. P.S.

This is taking a lot of courage to even write this. But I can do hard things. I can and will.

Before I used to be ashamed of my voice. Heck, I still am. I’m still timid and embarrassed with my words and thoughts. For 9 years I was led to believe what I thought and said didn’t matter. I still struggle with opening up with how I really feel. I was always scared to even voice my opinion because everyday I was told it didn’t matter. Being called a bitch or dumb trick 50 times a day just for breathing really does something to you. I still feel scared. I still feel like I don’t matter some days. I hope I can eventually learn to not be so scared to say how I really feel.

I think I’ve been trying to cover up the low self esteem with heavy on the instagram filters, and extra heavy on swiping left or right. You guys, these dating apps?! Like...I CAN NOT. My brothers told me the hot ticket dating apps when I moved to Utah. (Side note: I didn’t know which way the right way to swipe for like a week so i was basically saying “oh hell yes” to everyone on accident. Learning process learning process. Baby steps baby steps)

Also, Utah is crazy. Well not THAT crazy, but ya know, it’s bananas. In all things, everything?
Don’t get me started on the drivers here, DO NOT. I will go into a tailspin and start reciting scripture over the pulpit so help me, Pete!

Anyway, oh hi, what was I talking about again? Me? Again? Oh, you shouldn’t have. Little ole me?

But also, does anyone even blog anymore? You know what I mean? Is it so 2009 or ala Carrie Bradshaw sex and the city? You guys, am I Carrie Bradshaw right now?  Should I start all my sentences with “I couldn’t help but wonder...” (that’s a sex and the city reference, in case you aren’t in the know and let me tell you GET IN THE KNOW because the entire series is a girls guide to life. Down to being broken up with on a post-it note. Except maybe skip getting high with your girlfriends after and getting arrested. (Carrie does that, not me. What are you nuts?!)

Anyway. Okay. What were we talking about again? Oh yeah, blogging...

I think I’ll stsrt it again.