Matters of the Heart

I need to write this. I need to get this out of my system before I explode.

First off, I’m over my ex-husband. I’m over him so thoroughly it’s crazy. That’s not what I’m concerned about. I’m concerned that one day I’m going to look at one of my children, particularly my oldest child who has my ex-husband’s eyes to a T, and hate them. Loathe them. Wish they were never born. I don’t want that now and just the thought of it possibly happening makes me sick to my stomach and want to cry.

But I know of people that it’s happened to. And it worries me to death. I think it’s a large part of what stresses me out and keeps me up at night.

I love my children. My oldest is in preschool and learning more and more everyday. All of them are so smart, wonderful, adorable, loveable… and while I may be horribly biased, I’m not the only one who thinks so. Especially the loveable part, though. All of them will just go up to someone and give them a hug, say “hi” and smile that heartwarming smile that they have.

I don’t understand how I could possibly come to abhor any of my children, but like I said… I know of other mothers who’ve began to dislike their children after a certain amount of time.

My own mother did it. I don’t want to take after her. I’m afraid that I will. I think that’s what scares me the most: becoming like my mother.

But it’s mind over matter, right? All a power of will?

Guess I need to work on my strength of the mind, heart, and soul. Or something like that.

Work, Write, Love

There are so many things wrong right now. It’s ridiculous. I’m thinking too much and everything is driving me crazy. I think I’m getting slightly depressed because I’m stuck inside all the time recently because of the weather, with all of this cold and snow that’s been coming through everywhere here in the eastern United States. I guess it doesn’t make anything better when my fiance is working overtime because one of his co-workers is so badly injured that he isn’t able to work for the next two (2) months, so him and his other co-workers are putting in an exponential amount of extra hours to cover for him. This week, alone, he’s worked over sixty (60) hours. While, yes, the paycheck’s going to be lovely and both of us are looking forward to it… I miss him. I miss him a lot and I don’t get to spend enough time with him. We used to spend more time with each other. Hell, when my aunt was living with us we saw more of each other then, than we do now and we had severe privacy issues back then!

But all of this is just me ranting and raving. I need to get it out of my system. I have nobody – absolutely no one – to talk to about all of this.

I don’t have any close friends. I don’t really trust my family with personal information any more. It’s come to the point that the therapist who stops by bi-weekly to help with my child in his development (he’s a little behind, y’see) is easier to talk to than anybody else… except, of course, my fiance. But then it comes down to the fact that he’s never here and when he is, he seems to be sleeping because he’s so worn out from working. We never talk anymore. We never spend time with each other. We don’t even have money for a single Valentine’s Day dinner, I’ve come to find out.

I’m trying to figure out his schedule so that maybe I can arrange my mother and stepfather to babysit the children for a night or two so that my fiance and I can just have a night to ourselves and we can just, I don’t know, go out. Spend time with each other. See a movie. Have dinner. Go to a bar. Just have fun with each other. It’s not a big deal. The whole point, nonetheless, being is that we just need to spend time with each other. Without the children. Every couple does.

I feel like I’m losing him. And maybe it’s just me. I know I get paranoid sometimes and I definitely know that I have a tendency to overthink things, but it seems like my fiance and I have been growing distant from each other as of late and I don’t like it. Not one bit.

I know he loves me though. I need to stop being paranoid. The signs are there that he loves me. I’m letting too many things build up inside of me. Little things. Reminders from my past; things that people have said to me that are starting to get to me. It’s unfair and I don’t like it. I know what he’s really like. But again, that’s the problem. The little things that are wiggling their way into my mind are making me doubt stuff like that and, in my mind, if I really love my fiance I shouldn’t ever doubt him. I know that nobody is perfect; I know that no relationship is perfect, but I can’t help but continually wonder if something’s going wrong or if… just if.

I’ve wandered into “what if” categories. I really don’t think that’s a good sign.

A good sign, though, I think, is that he is the one person (not including my children) that I can’t picture myself without. I think and think and think, and then it occurs to me that we already act like we’re married. We share bills, rent, a home, chores, cooking (though, I will admit he does the majority when he’s not working); we share decisions and we compromise. We actually talk about where we’re heading in the future – where we want to go, in the sense of “when we finally get a house of our own and not this place, we’ll…” or “when we’re more financially stable we’ll take a trip to *example place* with the kids… they’d love it”. It makes my heart just grow and burst with such warmth. I feel like squealing and crying from happiness sometimes.

And, y’know, I guess it’s also probably a really good sign that when I’m reading my romance novels or watching my romantic-comedies (*cough* chick-flicks), or any sort of movie or book that has a significant amount of romance in it, I picture the leading female as myself and the leading male as my fiance. Especially once they start dating; especially if it’s starting to get more romantic. The thing is, though, it doesn’t have to be the “more romantic” parts. I have a wild imagination, and if I can picture my fiance and I doing something similar – then we’re in whatever book or movie I’m watching or reading at the time.

I love him and I’m in love with him. I’m not convincing myself of this. I’ve known it for about a year and a half now. My feelings have not faded; they’ve only grown stronger. I guess, though, I didn’t anticipate all of the other emotions – the stress, anxiety – that would come with it.

But he makes me feel beautiful. He makes me feel whole. He makes me feel complete. With him, I am me and no one else. I don’t have to be. He feel in love with me at my worst and has helped me pick up the pieces. I truly believe he loves me for who I am. It’s just hard to believe sometimes. It’s a scary thought… to have found somebody so completely right for me that they’re willing to accept all of my fuck-ups & help me through my rough patches. It’s hard to comprehend to have found somebody who loves me even if my family is so against the relationship, or just completely horrible in their own right but he still loves me because, well, because my family does not define me. My family is not who I am. Just because I am related to them by blood does not always mean they are my family.

And he accepts me. And he loves me. And he loves my children.

That’s all that matters.

Fuck the world. We don’t need anyone else. Nobody else’s opinion matters.

Just ours.

Since Last Month!

Omg, it’s been so long since I’ve updated anything on here! I can’t blame it completely on being busy, but the majority… yeah, I have been. With the holidays just passing and my aunt moving in with my fiance and I, plus the extreme cold weather passing through, so everything’s been quite hectic.

Oh, and the wedding that I was in. That happened in between Christmas and New Year’s. Lovely, lovely.

So! Let’s start off, shall we? It seems we have quite a lot to cover. 😉

Christmas was different. Didn’t really know what was going on until about two days beforehand; it was really crazy. My stepdad got all angry because I told my mom to tell him that if he couldn’t accept the fact that she wanted to be with her family on Christmas then he didn’t have to come. He got p*ssed, there was some yelling involved, and he didn’t come. My mom and brothers did, though. It was much more fun of a day than I expected it to be.

My aunt helped cook Christmas dinner, as did my fiance. I made chicken and noodles. There was some squabble over use of the kitchen. There’s some sort of tension over the kitchen. My aunt’s always been the one in the kitchen and, since I’ve been with him, my fiance has always been the one in the kitchen – kind of a switch of perceived gender roles, which we have no objection to, by the way. It’s weird though. Every time my fiance just takes a step into the kitchen, in our own home, my aunt goes in there as well even if she has no reason to be in there. She’ll start talking to my fiance, offering advice (“why don’t you do this?” “why don’t you add that?” “I normally do such n’ such”) and it drives both me and my fiance bonkers, because I normally have to intercede in some way. Cause, y’see, we don’t have a larger kitchen so more than one person being in the kitchen at the same time, especially if the 2nd person has no reason of being in there, causes extreme problems. My fiance is to the point that he’d rather be at work, out of the house, just in general away from my aunt, than at home.

For example: on New Year’s Eve, he had to work the next morning, a 12-hour shift, and so when he got home that evening he brought snacks, champagne, and general stuff for a night in for the two of us. My aunt immediately got on his case: “Well I’ve got that” “You can use this instead” and it drove him absolutely crazy. He’d had a good day at work, an extremely good day at work, and – the way he told me – he didn’t want to come home and her voice be the first thing he hears cause it just ruined it for him.

We ended up going out that night. We ate, drank, stayed out and had some fun. We came home before it turned into 2014. The first thing we did when we came home was put the children to bed then locked ourselves in our bedroom, drank the champagne, ate chips and salsa, and watched movies on the TV we have in our room cause we’re awesome like that. LOL!

I just feel bad. My aunt’s supposed to be moving out and she’s going on living here two months. She was supposed to have moved out near a month ago. I love her, but I hope she doesn’t secretly hope to move in full-time with me. We just don’t have the space. She’s not even paying any sort of rent or bills while living here and she thinks that she’s entitled to everything! So yes, she’s starting to drive me nuts too. I love her, but just like when I was younger, I’m not sure how long I can stand living with her.

Changing topics: the wedding was absolutely beautiful. I had no idea, though, that churches hung the triquatra. I thought it was a Pagan symbol, so I’m thoroughly confused. The Methodist church my best friend got married in still had their Christmas decorations up and on the tree was several triquatras. If someone could explain that to me, I would greatly appreciate it. My fiance, who is well-versed in the Pagan religion, many religions in fact, had no answer.

The batchelorette party was the night before, but I’m very proud of myself as I did not get as sloshed as most people would have expected. I had lots of fun though. We held the party at the groom’s mother’s house, which may seem odd, but if you knew all of us… well, it’s really not that odd, to be quite honest. We played many games, drank till the sun came up, ate chips and dip, pranced around in nightgowns and watched baby videos. It was awesome.

Oh, and can’t forget the guy that hung out with us. One of the other bridesmaid’s, that I don’t really know, boyfriend; he even pranced around in a nightgown with us! It was awesome! Especially the part where he changed in front of us! Does that mean we had our own personal stripper??? LOL!

Though the craziest part about the time surrounding the wedding was the fact the majority of my time was spent with my fiance’s ex who happens to be a close friend of my best friend who was getting married. Said ex was driving me and my best friend around everywhere. It was freaky. Then, y’know, when my fiance showed up at the reception (because he had to work and wasn’t able to make it to the ceremony) she gave him the evil eye… and me, for that matter. Total evilness. She avoided both of us completely but sat herself in the perfect position so that all she had to do was look up and she’d be able to see us and, well, glare. Completely creeped me out. Gah.

Lemme tell ya though, the snow storm’s been fun. The polar vortex or whatever I’ve heard it been called. I’m totally snowed in. We have a total of around 12 inches. Every one on my facebook newsfeed was saying “oh, we’ll only get around 2-3 inches, they’ve said this’ll happen before and it didn’t”. Well hey, it happened. Dumb*ss. I kinda trust the weather channel. I’m not talking local weather channel; I’m talking national weather service. I get daily updates. Heck yeah. My oldest still isn’t back in school cause of the storm and I don’t expect the school to open until, at the earliest, next week. What’s sucky is that all of this means that school is going to go even further into June because on the norm, without the make-up snow days, school goes into June. Fun, fun, fun. :-/

But on the upside of everything, my fiance and I finally might have enough for our wedding in… duh dun duhn!… JUNE! Wish us luck! 🙂

Friendship Status: Processing

It’s been about two weeks now. I wonder if she’s thought about it, if she’s actually talked about it with her fiance?

What am I talking about it? I’m talking about my “best friend” who’s getting married in December. I’m in the wedding, but so is the man that raped me. I confronted her about it and her response was… not very enthusiastic on my behalf. It was almost as if she was fighting for him instead.

In the time since then I’ve been busy moving but it hasn’t stopped me from thinking about the situation concerning her. My stress level, my anxiety, has went through the roof since that phone conversation those weeks ago. I’ve imagined so many ways that this could turn out, so many different conversations; unfortunately, most of them finish with the ending of our friendship. I can’t help but think “what happened?”

Five years ago she never would have second-guessed me about what I’ve said. Three years ago she would’ve stood by my side through thick and thin. Now, though, everything has changed and I don’t know why. I’ve known her for most of my given life, most of which I’ve considered her to be my best friend.

I’m afraid to her what she’s going to say, if she ever says anything to me at all. Because, like I’ve said, it’s been two weeks and I’ve heard no response about it.

I think she’s avoiding the issue. Maybe she’s afraid too? Maybe she doesn’t want to tell me that she [and her fiance] have decided that I’m “too selfish” and they don’t want me in the wedding at all? Or maybe she would rather tell me face to face? This weekend is going to be the first weekend since our phone confrontation that she’ll be nearby since she goes to college out of state. Or… or maybe she is just avoiding it altogether, avoiding me. It’s possible.

There are so many possibilities out there and I’ve only listed a few. I’ve even thought of the possibility where she and her fiance discuss it and she actually does defend me. Ironically, if she did that, her and her fiance (for the umpteenth time, might I add) would more than likely break-up… again. I think she’s going to choose him over me, which to some extent I can understand, but she also understands where I’m coming from.

She’s been raped too. That’s why I though, hoped, that she would understand where I was coming from and why I was asking something so drastic of her. Instead, though, I got the response of “he’s been best friends with him for 10 years, I could never ask that of him, just like I hope he would never ask me to take you out of the wedding”.

I didn’t think about it at the time, but she and I have known him for the same amount of time. We met him (her fiance) eleven years ago at the same time. Ten years ago said guy (“the rapist”) was not her fiance’s best friend when we met him, another guy was. Maybe seven years ago they became best friends, at most eight, but definitely not ten. I kind of think she was pulling the number of years out of her ass, so to speak. And it makes me angry.

And I’ve discussed it with MY fiance; he understands where I’m coming from. I made the comment the other night while he was preparing dinner (yes, he was – not me) that if her rapist was in our wedding I would take him out without a second thought. I’d tell the guy “sorry”, but something came up. Though, after hearing what happened I probably wouldn’t want to be around that guy much anyway. My fiance understood that and completely agreed.

It basically comes down to the fact to whose friendship does she value more. I’m not even sure if it has anything to do with her fiance, and if he does then their relationship is more of a dictatorship then one of equal value.

The way I see it, if she valued my friendship and believed what I said she would put more stock into my request instead of, what seems to me, just pushing it aside to be dealt with later.

Apparently I’m not a good enough friend because I’m trying to ruin her big day by asking for the guy that raped me to not be near me. I’m sorry. I’ll try to be less selfish; I only wanted to not have a panic attack in front of 200 people.

An Apology

It seems that that life just likes to hit me all at once. It really, really does.

First of all, even though I’m posting this on the Internet most of you have probably noticed that I’m trying to remain at least a little bit anonymous, correct? If you haven’t then I guess I just informed you.

It’s like this, though. I’m trying to remain somewhat anonymous for a reason. No, I’m not on the run. No, I haven’t done anything against the law. I’m really not a bad person at all, at least, I think so. Though, I really don’t have anything to hide. Anything, that is, except for certain feelings toward certain people. And I hate it. It’s so stressful.

That’s why I rant on here.

It’s weird, though. I’ve tried to just keep a sort of “digital journal”, not on the Internet, and I completely didn’t keep up with it. Something about posting it online motivates me to keep writing and I don’t know what it is.

But that’s not what I was getting at before either.

I want to stay anonymous in case someone that I happen to write about reads this blog and is offended by something in it. Or, y’know, thinks along the lines of “If that was me they were talking about, I’d be offended”.

I don’t want to offended anybody. That’s part of the reason that I’m ranting on here: so that I don’t actually say anything to anyone. I love my family; I love my friends, and I would never ever want to hurt them in any way, shape, or form.

But I have.

Someone in my family found my blog and read the post I wrote before this and, unfortunately, it had something written about her in it. It wasn’t meant for her eyes. Ever. But she called me crying the next morning after talking to another member of my family. I was painted the bad guy.

So here it is, in case she reads this: I’M SORRY.

I told her over and over again, but I’m not sure that she listened to me or that she understood what I was saying. She was upset and angry. I can understand that, but I honestly don’t think that she was able to see from my point-of-view.

Nothing that I’m writing on here was meant for her eyes. Or any of my family’s. Or friend’s. Or acquaintances. Anybody.

I know that I rant on here and I’m not going to apologize for doing so, but it’s not something that I attempt to do constantly either. I’m not constantly angry at somebody or something. Most of the time it’s worry or paranoia or some sort of confusion. Most of the time it’s me trying to sort out my feelings so that I can understand myself better.

So no, I’m not going to reveal who I am. Not now, not ever. I’m never going to lie either, though. Why should I? This is my outlet and lying will only hinder me.

And so, I will write.

***

Crazy, crazy, crazy

So there’s a bit going on now. Life is moving along, I’m happy to announce! ^_^

Unfortunately, that also means that my blog is going to be updating a bit slower for the next couple weeks. I’m going to try and update it every couple days, but there’s a lot going on right now and I’m not sure I’m going to be able to manage it. Plus I’m switching Internet providers because the one I have right now sucks.

My family and I have been in contact with each other a lot more in the past couple of days which actually surprises me. I’m glad, though. I miss talking to my family. I’m not always fond of them or how they treat me or my decisions, but they’re my family and I love them.

I think it’s all of the stress that’s been going around (and yes, I know it’s not a contagion or sickness). They’ve been calling to ask about my children and if they’re doing any better, if they’re still sick. I repeat the same thing over and over again: they’re fine and, no, they’re not sick anymore. It seems to placate them about that topic at least.

But there are other things. Specific things to each individual. I’ve talked to both of my aunts and my mother. Everything’s changing and something is going to explode. I caught my aunt in a lie to my mother the other night and I pointed it out to my mom. She wasn’t happy about being lied to, but I can’t blame her; who would be? It’s more than that, though. There’s more and more that’s building.

I don’t even know how to phrase it. It’s just there. Looming. Like a darkness, a shadow. A presence.

But things are happy now. They’re happy around me. It’s just… when I talk to everybody else I get this mixed feeling inside. There’s something else.

I don’t know. I sound crazy, don’t I?

Li’l Bit of Nothing

Life seems unreal sometimes. I have an idea where I’m going; I have an idea of what I want to do with my life other than be a mother, but then these thoughts pop in my head and I stop.

Where am I going to be at this time next year, in two – three years? Five years? What am I going to do if something happens to one of my children? What am I going to do if the courts rule that my children should go and live with their biological father? Or what if something happens to me?

I try to expect the unexpected. I try to plan for the unexpected, but that normally doesn’t work out. Who knows to expect everything? Even paranoid people don’t expect everything.

I guess I’m close to paranoid too, though. I worry about everything. Mostly for my children. I want the best for them, I do. But then things in my mind blur together and I don’t know where my thoughts are going.

Everything is “what if” and “how am I” and it makes my anxiety climbs higher and higher.

It’s why I write here. Why I write so much. To get my thoughts out of my head and, hopefully, to calm down my anxiety a bit.

It works most of the time. 🙂