Gobble, Gobble, Gobble

For all those in the USA, like me:

HAPPY THANKSGIVING!

Yes, yes, I know. I’m a little bit late posting it since it’s after midnight, but I figure since most everyone would be busy with their families and/or friends and/or both today, then it would not be a big deal. As for me? I slept in till around 1PM, whereas my fiance slept till around 2:30PM; he had gotten up off and on with the children because apparently I was dead asleep, but I woke up before him. It really makes no sense, in my opinion.

We had a small, personal Thanksgiving dinner at home with just the two of us and the three kids. He had to work this evening, so it wasn’t anything big. We had mashed potatoes, turkey, stuffing, pumpkin muffins, and rolls. It was really very good. It was, also, the first Thanksgiving that all of us spent together. Last year my ex had my children, per court order, and my fiance and I (we weren’t engaged then) spent the holiday at my best friend’s house. Her family is like my second family and they invited us for Thanksgiving dinner last year. We had a blast.

But I hope everyone had a good Thanksgiving this year, whether it was just a small occasion or some huge get together. For me, Thanksgiving is all about being together with the ones I love, about family. I guess I’m a traditionalist like that. ūüėČ

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Lately

So I’ve noticed that lately I’ve been focusing¬†my blog posts mainly on mine and my fiance’s life or my [maybe unhealthy] dealings with my ex-husband.¬†Like I’ve said before, this blog is mostly to deal with¬†stress in my daily life¬†– me ranting and raving for no other reason than to get it out of my system. I know that there are probably a lot of people who don’t like reading about my life and I can handle that. It’s my life and¬†not¬†someone else’s, so why would you?

I guess I just kind of have this little hope inside of me that someone will learn from my mistakes.

But that’s not what I’m writing about right now.

Right now I’m trying to figure out a way for me to stop ranting and raving¬†so much about my fiance and my ex-husband. Though, at this moment in time I don’t see how¬†seeing as they are such an integral part of my life.¬†My fiance for obvious reasons and my ex-husband because he’s the father of my children and,¬†unless I get really lucky [and I doubt it], he’s never going to¬†out of my life. I have accepted the latter part¬†with little enthusiasm, but hey, I’ve accepted it. ūüėȬ†Lol!

I’ve been trying to look through¬†prompts and challenges¬†for ideas on something to write, but when I finally get inspiration, it all comes back to something with my fiance or my ex-husband… on occasion my children, which then leads to either my fiance or ex-husband.¬†Blah. I love writing, I love typing, but I hate being repetitive and redundant. Even I’m getting bored of writing¬†pretty much about the same ol’ thing so everybody who¬†reads my blog even¬†“every now and then” has to be sick of it by now!

And I apologize for that. I really, truly do.

“It’s¬†not about being in a relationship, engaged, or married. It’s about being secured, happy, safe, relieved, and feeling good. It’s about having a peaceful state of mind and¬†sleeping at night without the fear of losing what you’ve got. It’s about being yourself and not someone else.

It’s about feeling loved, happy, respected, understood and appreciated. It’s all about the right person and the right time.”

– Unknown

Am I Just Paranoid?

I failed. I couldn’t ask him. I was all geared up to ask him. I worked myself up to ask him and everything. But he was so worn out from work; he’d been up since 5AM and didn’t go to sleep till nearly 1AM. I just felt so bad. I couldn’t do it.

I couldn’t cause a confrontation. I just couldn’t. I wanted to ask my fiance, I wanted to ask him if he ever thought about leaving because of my children or why he avoided answering it the night before but I wasn’t able to.

Why couldn’t I? Am I such a coward?

And today… today we slept in. I mean, of course we got up to take care of the children, but we still slept in to some extent. (We went to sleep at 11PM, so it was kind of weird.) I just… I don’t know.

I feel like I’m losing him. I don’t want to. Ever.

I love him.

Talking and Happiness

My fiance and I never fight. Seriously. We don’t. It isn’t that I don’t get upset or angry with him and it’s not that he doesn’t get upset or angry with me, it’s the fact that even if I am p*ssed off with him and I bring it up, he’ll avoid any sort of arguement or confrontation; he won’t answer a question directly either. Or, in the opposite view, if he’s angry or upset with me he won’t bring it up at all! He’ll just walk away! Yes, I’m able to tell that he’s angry and upset, but he won’t let me do anything about it. He won’t let me try and talk about it.

I tried to bring it up last night. I did.

Something happened that made him angry. He just, basically, shut himself off. He looked stony, apathetic if you didn’t know him or what to look for; he had stopped talking and was very tense, his eyes were cold, angry. I told him to go listen to some music or watch a movie and calm down. (I knew that’s what he was going to do anyway, so why not suggest it?) I stayed in a different room from my fiance, peeking in on him to see what he was doing. As luck would have it, he was watching “Silent Hill: Revalation”; he never watches horror/thriller movies, so I took it as a bad sign. (What he watches and/or listens too varies upon his mood, like a lot of people.)

I finally started talking to him from the next room. I told, not asked, my fiance that “y’know, sometimes I would rather you just yell at me when you’re upset or angry than say nothing at all because then at least I would know what you’re upset about, because even when I ask you about it you don’t answer”.

There was a pause, and he said something along the lines of “I’m not that kind of person”. And I just blanched. Really? Not that kind of person?

So I said [something like] “Then how are we going to communicate? Going to talk at all? When there are issues between us are we just going to ignore them?”

And you won’t believe what he said [to the extent of]: “What issues?” I wanted to roll my eyes. I think I DID roll my eyes. The conversation was already wearing me out; it really was!

I yelled back at him (because we were in different rooms, I couldn’t talk in a normal-toned voice) “I don’t know, the fact that we can talk about mundane things but not important or serious things? That when you’re upset or I’m upset we can’t comfort each other because quote-unquote ‘you’re not that type of person’. Those kind of issues. I don’t know.”

We didn’t say much from there; that’s about all that really sticks in my mind. It just bothers me though. Yeah, we talk, but like I said in the conversation last night: it’s normally just about mundane things, or it’s a one-sided rant on something important with the other person inserting an opinion or word here/there every once and a while. No, we don’t talk at each other, we actually listen to each other, that much is obvious, but there’s just something wrong with our communication that needs fixed and he doesn’t seem to see it. Yeah, he’ll comfort me when I’m crying by hugging me, but if he knows he’s the cause of it? Nope. No hug. In fact, he’ll completely ignore the fact that I’m crying or that I have been, even when it’s completely obvious – like last night.

No, he’s not cold-hearted. He’s just been hurt and has a ways to heal. He’s dealt with a lot in his life and I think I’m truly the first one to not hurt him or treat him in ways that others have in the past. We’ve been together almost two years and he’s changed a lot, but I don’t think I’ve broken down all of the walls yet and I know it’ll take a while yet.

I just… I hope I remember to ask him [again] tonight what I asked him last night. I only realized earlier that he avoided the question last night, which kind of furthers my point.

I told him last night that one of my deepest fears that I worry over constantly is that one day my children will drive him away, cause they’re a lil’ on the wild side, in a manner of speaking. (I added a couple of other descriptions last night to try and lighten the mood.) I did ask him, though. And¬†I was crying a bit,¬†though I was¬†trying not to. He changed the subject, but only slightly, by saying that he’d been meaning to bring home earplugs to block out the screeching from my youngest child who screeches and screams when he’s unhappy, and all that it takes for my youngest to be unhappy is for me to be out of the room. ūüė¶

And that was the end of the conversation. He’s probably going to be angry when I bring it up again. P*ssed, even, but I’m going to. I can’t stand not knowing when I’ve already asked and it’s bugging me even more because he didn’t answer. Normally not answering something doesn’t bode well.

I think this time I might even tell him that if he’s that unhappy, or if he’s staying just to make me happy, then he has the right to leave. No, I don’t want him to. That’s the last thing in the world I want to happen. Part of my world would die if that happened; he truly is the love of my life, but I don’t want him to be unhappy because of me.

I love him and all I want is for him to be happy and if I don’t make him happy anymore, so be it.

My Life As It Is Now.

It’s… odd. At least to me.

I’ve never been a morning person. Ever. Even when I had to get up early so I could get ready and make sure I was on the bus by a certain time so I wouldn’t miss school, I was the grouchiest lil’ thing in the world. But you’d never know it.

I was good at putting up a happy front. With the life I’ve lived, I had to be otherwise people would be constantly asking me if I was okay, did I need something, or treat me different. Oddly enough, me being happy – or pretending to me, acting like I was – didn’t seem to help and I realized that sometime around my junior year in high school. I stopped caring. I would wake up 10-15 minutes before the bus came; I would brush my hair and pull it up in a ponytail or bun, put on some eyeliner (if I felt like it that day), and grab whatever I could find in my closet. Half the time I re-wore the same pair of jeans 3-4 days in a row. Please don’t get me wrong, though. I did take showers, use deodorant, and keep clean. I just didn’t care about my general body image.

Or socializing. That year I lost all of my friends because they, as I’ve come to find out within the past couple of years, thought I was “too snotty” or “too uppity” or that I thought I was “better than everyone else because I got better grades”. When they told me this these past few years I laughed out loud, and quite obnoxiously at that. Back in that timeframe, I literally just, for lack of better words, didn’t give a fuck. I wasn’t going to “dress to impress” every single day of the week when it was obvious nobody cared anyway. I wasn’t trying to impress anyone beforehand, besides. I was sick and tired of the rumors being said behind my back; that’s why I ignored and just walked passed so many people. They want to talk bad about me and then act like it was nothing? Even when I heard them personally saying it? Ok. Fine. I’ll ignore you.

I’m not a bitch. I give second, third, fourth, and so on chances. But that year I gave up.

Oh, and what’s even funnier? I didn’t have good grades. I got the occasionally A, but it was mostly C’s and D’s, again, the occasional B. I was no where near smart. I cried a lot because I didn’t have good grades and I honestly tried in my classes.

But honestly, none of this is what I wanted to talk about. I just kind of got off track. (But I meant every word.)

My life is different now than it was then. Obviously.

Back then, I wasn’t a mother. I was a teen whose life sucked horribly. At one point I think I considered suicide. Right now I would never even come close to considering it. Right now, in my life, I don’t fake being happy because I genuinely am happy. I don’t put on a happy smile so people will treat me differently. I smile when, well, when it feels right.

Compared to back then, my world is topsy-turvy. I never would have imagined my life as it is now if you would have asked me to back then. I would have said that right now I would either be in college or doing something with my career, maybe planning a wedding or in a serious relationship. The only two that are correct are the “planning a wedding” and “in a serious relationship”, which kind of go hand-in-hand.

At this point in my life I’m a mommy of three and one of my babies, my oldest, is in school. Every weekday morning I wake up between 6:30 and 7AM so I can start getting ready for the day and, more importantly, start getting my baby ready to get on the bus and off to preschool. When we transferred to the school district we’re in now, it was a big switch. Before it was only 2 days a week (Monday and Wednesday) and now it’s preschool every day, which is something I had never heard of.

It’s been three weeks now and we’re finally adjusting to the schedule, though I think a lot of it has to do with the fact that my fiance started his new job and, currently, he’s working a 12-hour shift and leaves at 6AM. (I hate to admit it, but it’s hard to sleep without him.

Recently I’ve been waking up about a half-hour before my fiance leaves for work, though I don’t know how I manage to time that so perfectly. I normally end up staying awake for the rest of the day; I can’t seem to get back to sleep, but¬†by the end of the day I’m ready to pass out. I’ve been getting a lot more done, though. I’ve been eating better or, I should say, I’ve been sticking to my diet better. My kids have been happier and I’ve been sticking them to a better schedule/routine. (Right now it’s about naptime, though they’re fighting it really, really hard. Hence why I’m still typing.) Today I’ve gotten two loads of dishes done, put away one load (from yesterday), swept and mopped the kitchen, taken out the trash can and diaper pail, picked up all of the dirty clothes and started picking up the computer room. Oh! And I finished paying the bills. ūüôā All before 3PM.

This was all between making two bottles¬†three or four¬†times, one sippy cup twice, and handing out snacks at least four times minimum. Oh, and three diaper changes multiplied by 2 with four of those being¬†poopy.¬†And¬†an hour and half (1.5) to two (2) hours was taken up by my oldest wanting me to watch “Pocahantas” with¬†the little booger.¬†The way I was asked I couldn’t say no; besides, it’s one of my favorite Disney movies too! Lol!

But yeah. I feel super accomplished today. I never get this much done.

And believe it or not, my children are currently quiet and asleep now.

Heck. Yes.

My Past. My Ex. My Anxiety.

I have to get this out of my system. I don’t know why, all of sudden, it’s bothering me so much. I don’t know why I’m thinking about all of this, forward and backward. I can’t get it out of my mind.

And so I going to write about it. I’m going to post it here.

I will forewarn you: I don’t know how long this post is going to be. Mind, I’m not going to try and make it a long post, but with what I am going to be writing, it might end up longer than anticipated. Please… if you start reading this, don’t be deterred by the long-windedness of my writing. It just kind of happens.

* * *

I was younger then. It was the beginning of a new school year and all of my friends were off to college; I never graduated high school. I was depressed. I had no idea where my life was going. Everyone was gone. I had no one.

And then He shows up.

Day by day, week by week, month by month – they all went by and I lost count. I can’t tell you exactly when everything happened or in what order. I just know that in the end, everything turned to shit. My family hated me; I was ostracized from the people who raised me and the only people I had to turn to were ones I barely even knew.

I was pregnant. I was engaged. I didn’t love the person I was marrying, but I was denying it to myself. Even looking back I can say that honestly. I just stayed with him so the child in my womb wouldn’t have a broken family like I grew up in.

I was an idiot.

He was abusive.

I eventually left him. It took me a while and several attempts; the cops were called several times to settle disputes between us in the process. What finally pushed me to the edge wasn’t a fight, wasn’t really any sort of abuse. It was a lie. I had finally convinced him to try marriage counseling and we decided on a local pastor/Christian couselor, which honestly surprised me because he’s some sort of atheist.

During the session – the one and only session that we went to – we talked things out, I got things off of my chest and told him what was bothering me. Of course, he nagged at me a bit, but in the end we compromised. My biggest “blah” was that he wasn’t helping out enough with our child and was demanding too much of me; he literally did nothing in the house while I was supposed to do everything and make time to shower myself, feed myself… and him. I had enough to deal with when I was taking care of our child and the household. He could cook for himself. Until I found out that he was only an expert at burning water. :-/

But yes, the session went great. I was happy. Suspicious, but happy. I was rightfully suspicious, I came later to find out. Almost every promise, almost every thing that he said he would change and start doing to help out, was broken not three hours later. He had planned on doing something “with the guys” for the whole weekend. I wouldn’t be seeing him for the whole weekend and I had no prior knowledge about it.

We argued again. I yelled, I cried. I gave up. I knew nothing could be done and I left. I packed a bag that night for me and then one for the baby and, on my way out, left him a note on the bed. I called one of my friends and had her pick me up. We were done. I filed for divorce a month later. He was dating another woman two weeks later.

The faux pas then, though, was that I was pregnant. We ended up having to wait over a year for the divorce to be finalized. Within the first six months, he did not contact me to see our already born child, he made no attempt to try and see our child. When we did make it to court, he said that I¬†had denied¬†him his parental rights to see his child and that’s why he never visited the baby.

Two years later and three children together, we’re going through the same thing.

I don’t know what he’s doing. I have absolutely no idea. I know he’s unstable. He’s the type of person that can’t go without a relationship. Literally CAN NOT. He split with his last girlfriend, at most, two months ago and he’s already dating someone else. Before her, it was a couple weeks. Before that relationship, it was around two months.

And I only know that through, y’know, Facebook. ^^;;

It’s been over six months since he’s seen his children face-to-face and he’s made little effort to see them. I don’t know if he’s trying something underhanded, if he’s going for what he did last time, or if he honestly thinks that I just gave up on fighting in court. (He doesn’t think that I’m actually paying my lawyer.) I can’t get into his mindset because I care too much about my children. The three weeks he took them and didn’t allow me contact with them I flipped out. My anxiety level was at an all-time high. I had panic-attacks and I seriously flipped the FUCK out. I’ve never been that way. Ever. My children are my life and not knowing exactly where they were, not having contact with them, threw me in a way I never thought possible.

And because of him I’m paranoid. Proof: my children stayed with my mother this past weekend. I had to call her on Saturday because I was flipping out because my children weren’t with me; I didn’t know how they were exactly. I knew they were alright, but I was flipping out. It was anxiety, near to a panic attack. Relate it to PTSD (post traumatic stress disorder), if you must – I know that’s the only thing I can relate it to similarly, though I know it’s not the same thing. What happened to me all those months ago has affected me for life. And it sucks.

But now he’s (my ex) not answering texts. He asked me to text him when it was a good time that him and the children could talk. I did. He never responded. That was weeks ago.

And now he’s not paying child support.

I don’t know what to do. I don’t know if it’s accidental or not. I mean, I moved; what if because I moved the child support stuff is all blah. Oh, but wait… then¬†I wouldn’t have gotten last month. Or the month before. Right?

So what’s going on?

I’m so confused. And scared. And anxious. Slightly paranoid.

I just want all of this to be over. All of the problems and issues. I want all of it gone. I know it never will be; I’m stuck with that man for life until the children are grown up, and even then, probably not even.

Hopes, wishes, and dreams abound. I just want everything to be well and good again.

Stable is good. ūüôā