Losing Kate

 

Katherine Marlene was born at 16:16 pm on June 9, 2002.  She was a petite 7 pounds, 5 ounces and had a full head of hair.  She had big, beautiful eyes and long fingers.  She had a tiny little birthmark on her earlobe.  We knew she was a girl long before she made her appearance.  

As she grew, her personality really started to shine.  She was smart and funny.  She was also quite trying on the patience at times.

Her teen years started with her always wanting to succeed in school, bringing home straight "A"s without me even having to push.  She was always harder on herself.

Teenage Kate had her hard moments.  We struggled with her eating disorder and low self esteem.  We sought help on numerous occasions.  She attempted suicide once and was hospitalized.  Once we found the right treatment, she started to soar.

At the beginning of this September it all came to a halt.

Her move in day at the start of her sophomore year of college turned into a nightmare.  

She was raped by another student in his dorm room.  

She internalized the trauma for about ten days before she told me.  Ashamed and embarrassed, she didn't want to be judged.  As a rape victim, one tends to blame themselves and is often afraid to speak out.  A victim feels afraid of retaliation and also fear that they won't be believed.  A victim is in shock and is unable to fully process what has happened to them.

I finally talked her into reporting it and she went to the hospital to get examined.  During the exam, she vocalized wanting to die and they had to commit her to behavioral health for 72 hours.

After her release, she was exhibiting signs of delusions and hallucinations.  Her dad was concerned and brought her back to the hospital.  She has been diagnosed with psychosis.  She has been creating an alternate reality to hide from the trauma of the attack.

As a parent, I cannot explain how horrible it feels to have lost your child on top of knowing what she has been through to bring her to this point.  

She doesn't deserve this.... any of it.

I cannot visit her due to covid restrictions.  I cannot hold her and tell her that she will be alright.  I cannot take away any of her pain.  I couldn't protect her from the monster who did this to her.  I cannot wipe her tears.

When I talk to her, I don't know this Katie.  

I pray that I have not lost her.  I pray so hard.

I listen for any little hint that she's still in there somewhere.

I don't want to be losing Kate.

Dear Phil

I visited you today.  I brushed the leaves from your headstone.  Tears stung my eyes.  I has been so many years, my friend, but it seems like yesterday that I last heard you laugh.

I remember your smile and your kind eyes.  You tried to hide your hurt but I could see it.  I remember our talks.  I remember how you got me to laugh.  We were friends who shared a common battle.

You chose to end your battle with your demons and insecurities. I still struggle with mine.

I often wish that I as a better friend and wonder if I had only stopped living my life enough to hear your call for help.  If I only took that moment to be there for you.

It is one of my biggest regrets.

I stood at your grave to be with you for a moment, praying that you are at peace. 

Some day I will see you on the other side.

Help is available

Suicide Hotline

800-273-8255 

Hard to Hide My Crazy

 

Lately I find myself apologizing for my emotions and feelings.  In theory I shouldn't have to do that.

I am who I am and I do come with an amount of crazy.  I am not perfect.  I have tender feelings and am easily hurt.

There is large amounts of baggage that I am trying to work through but it is so hard.

There is so many layers of hurt feelings, mental abuse, trauma, and various other crappy things that lurk under my surface.  

I hate allowing anyone to get close because it has a tendency to surface and then I feel the need to apologize for it.

My insecurities come out and I question everything.  

I hate it.

Sometimes I think I need to come with a warning label,  

At the same time, I should be allowed to be me.  

I think we all come with certain levels of crazy.  We all have gone through shit we don't talk about.  

I do find myself wishing that I didn't feel the need to hide it.  It gets hard sometimes when I'm really tired or I have emotional overload.

My crazy comes out with jazz hands and a kazoo.

It's hard to hide it.

Unlovable

 

I feel so unlovable at times.  It's hard to explain but the feeling is real.

Some say I'm funny, smart, pretty and have a good heart.  I don't see that some times.  I see an unlovable person.

Men have left me, cheated on me, abused me and used me.

I have been left in the wake of the chaos wondering why.  I've been told that I deserve so much more than I've gotten but it never happens.

It becomes so hard to trust that the next one won't be like the others.  I am taken advantage of and tossed aside like a used tissue.

Wounds cut deep and they take long to heal.

Why would someone want to love a mess like me?

Who would be brave enough?

What would even attract them to my soul?

I know it is hard to believe that I think this way.  Feeling unlovable is an incredibly painful experience.  

We all deserve love and to love but it doesn't always happen like the fairy tales and that's kind of sad.

Therapy helps with dealing with my thought process at times but when my guard is down, I let myself feel a little self pity. 

When a person if feeling unloved, they usually believe that other people are the cause or source of the feeling.  IN reality, feeling unloved is ultimately the result of an unresolved conflict within ourselves.

No one is capable of fixing me, I have to figure out what unresolved conflict is in me and resolve it.

.

Little Girl Lost

 

I am often asked why I am still single.  I'm told that I am smart, funny, beautiful, fun, etc.  It is hard to explain to someone who asks why.  I know why.

I hesitate to write this as it may seem that I hate my family or others but it isn't true.  I love everyone.  (Well, not that crazy bitch...some of you know who I mean.)

In all seriousness, no one is really at fault for how I feel.  We cannot change the past but we can have an understanding of how things were and how we now deal with feelings and situations.

And with that being said....

I've been in therapy for awhile before I had a full understanding of why I choose men who abandoned me.  My therapist was very good at asking the right questions and interpreting my answers in order to help me stop the cycle.

After my last break up I was deeply hurt.  I thought everything was good and never thought that he would do what he did to me.  But he did.

I sought out help.

What I learned is why I am still single.

My choices in relationships all stemmed from my relationship with my parents.  I had learned that my mother was extremely narcissistic and controlling.  I was conditioned to understand that receiving her love was more like a transaction.  If I didn't conform to her wishes, her love was taken from me.  I saw her do it repeatedly to others and my biggest fear was losing her love for me.  

It was such a fucked up way to grow up.  I thought that if I was a certain way, I would be loved, not just by my mom, but by everyone.

I had met my aunt and uncle for lunch once and my aunt told my kids that I was such a loving child.  Every time that they would come to visit, I would run to them for hugs and kisses.  Tears stung my eyes.  Thinking back to those times I realized that I was such a love starved child, I just wanted to be hugged and feel unconditional love from someone.

I never was hugged by my mother.  Her hugs were always cheek to cheek.  I never heard praise.  It was usually a comment that "you could have done better" or she would make it a point to tell me that she always did it better.  

At the time I never thought it was a wrong way to be loved.  For me, it was normal.

When I became the age for dating and boyfriends, it became a nightmare.

I was in the mindset that love came with conditions and expectations and if those weren't met, then it wasn't love.  Being in relationships was always incredibly stressful for me.

My father was pretty stand-offish.  I do think my mom had some contribution to the relationship I have with my father.  She demanded that she came first and if I didn't chose her, there was always mental hell to pay.

I wish that my father was more caring.  It seems that he wanted perfect kids, correcting our English, no laughing at the table, no asking how our day was. (At least that is what I remember.)  He never hugged us or tucked us in at night.

My father always seemed to love everyone else.  He was always good to others, willing to help them and even hug them.  I held in so much anger because these people got the attention from my father that I had wished he had given me.

My parents fought verbally and sometimes physically.  

Not only did I have a fucked up view of love, my view of relationships was even more fucked up.

Again, at the time, it was my normal.  I figured that the Brady family was abnormal and no one really lived like that.

I cannot go back and redo my choices in relationships.  I am sad that I gave two men two very beautiful children and those men were incapable to see me needing their love.

I am thankful that my children didn't grow up not getting hugs and goodnight kisses.  I did make it a point to never let my kids grow up like I did.

I am also sad that I didn't get help sooner.

The difficult thing now is learning to accept love from others.  I cannot even explain how hard it is to allow people to love me without thinking that there is a condition attached to it.

I had been getting better.  I tell friends that I love them and I feel them love me.  I am even learning to love myself for the shit show I think that I am.

There was a huge set back recently that sent me into a tailspin.

My father was visiting.  I have always looked forward to seeing him as I thought we were working on the relationship that we have.  We have had talks about the past but I don't think he really understands the toxic environment that we were all in.

He had a little too many spirits and told some of my new friends that I was not a good person and that I was a "jerk".  That was so hurtful as I didn't want them thinking that I was just putting a fake side forward.

Someone walked in the club and he wrapped his arms around her and said how good it was to see her.  I held back tears.

He told people that I hadn't seen in 30 years that I didn't deserve the car that my son bought me.

I probably will never understand why he feels the way he does or why he doesn't see the hurt he caused me.  I also don't understand why he never took what we talked about to heart.

I love my dad but at the same time I don't want to let him hurt me anymore.

It's hard.

For most of my life I have feel like a very unlovable little girl just desperate for someone to love me.

As the same time, I have walls up so high because I don't want to keep being hurt.

I've been keeping to myself and licking my wounds as I have been doing for many years.

Someday I hope that someone will see me though a little hole in my wall and just love me unconditionally.  Because if they can do that, they would have all the love that I've been holding back.

A Mother's Cry

 

This is probably one of the hardest things I've written about.  I've started it many times and put it aside because I was never sure if I could even put it into words.

I also didn't want anyone judging the situation.  It is a tough situation to even think about going through but then to actually live it....

Mind you, what I am about to write about happened a few years ago and we are all fine now.  I am writing about it because I am sure other moms have gone through it, are going through it or will go through it.  I just want you to know that you are not alone.

I thought it was odd that she asked me for an extension cord.  She said that she needed it for her curling iron.  I had a long day and didn't really question her.  After several minutes...hell, it could have been an hour but the time doesn't matter, she came out of the bathroom and admitted to the lie and said that the cord was to put into the tub with her.

As a parent, I didn't know what to do.  I knew she struggled and we had tried to get help but help was just almost impossible to find.  School counselors were focused on SATs and college meetings.  I was told that they were too busy to even refer us to someone who could help.  I had called behavioral health and got her in to see an older guy but he really couldn't relate to poor body image and teenage breakups.

I tried to help but she accused me of making it about me.  I only tried to relate to what she was going through but she didn't see me as ever being a teenager.

When she admitted the intent of the extension cord, I calmly said that I was glad that she told me and we talked for a bit.  She went to bed.

I was up all night thinking why the fuck couldn't I help my own child.  I felt like a failure.  I made the decision to seek the ultimate help.

I can't really remember if she went to school the next day but again, the timeline doesn't really matter.

I made the decision to take her to the emergency room and seek for some way to help her.

She had serious body image issues.  She binged and purged.  She was a shell of what she once was.  She worked out constantly.

She had bullies at school who were into cyberbullying her.  Her ass was too big, her arms were too hairy, and whatever else.  

She self harmed.  Her arms were cut with scissors or a knife.

She was angry and depressed.

and I couldn't help her.

My beautiful child was a mess.

She didn't fight me on going to the hospital.  Which surprised me but I think she was just ready to get help too.

In the emergency room they ran blood tests and checked vitals.  Finally a doctor came and talked with us, mainly her.  She explained everything that was going on with her and her thoughts.  I was startled to learn that it was worse that what I was seeing.  My heart broke even more.

I stepped out with the doctor and he asked what I was thinking.  I started to cry and said that I think she needs to be admitted to the pysch ward and if she doesn't agree, I will have her forcibly placed.

As a mother, this had to be one of the hardest decisions I had to make. 

I talked with her a bit about my decision and at first she was scared about how it would all work.  She then opened to the idea and agreed to go.

It was hard leaving her there but I also knew that she was safe.  That first night I slept so good knowing that she was safe.

The first few days were hard for her as she never liked sleeping away from home but as she got involved in the program, I began to see improvement.  She was there for about 5 days.  

We put a plan into place so that she could come home.  We learned to talk about things.  We worked with a counselor.  Her medication was adjusted.

I'm not saying that everything was perfect after that.  There have been some large bumps in the road but we have tools to deal with them.

Despite everything she was a straight A student.  She is bright, funny, and beautiful.

I am proud of my daughter.

How I Deal With It

I have written about my battle with depression many times.  I've written about the time I wanted to end my life.  

I write about it because I know there are others who feel the same and they feel alone.  I write to let them know they aren't alone.

I have been asked recently about how I deal with it.  I am asked if I am cured.  I am asked if I still have feelings of ending my life.

First, I don't believe that there will ever really be a cure for depression.  I've dealt with mine since I was about 14 or so.  There were factors that came into play that I don't really talk about.  It isn't because I'm embarrassed or I don't want to talk about them.  It's just that some of the factors have names and I don't feel angry or hatred towards them so I don't want anyone else judging them.  

Second, I deal with depression by recognizing my triggers and avoiding them.  Triggers could be memories of past trauma or even when I let my own head starts overthinking.  Sometimes I even see the "factors" of my past and I have to pretend that things didn't happen.

I also practice self care.  Practicing self care is a huge key in managing depression.  I have learned to immurse myself in creativity.  I use it as an outlet.  I create beautiful things and that makes me feel good.  I read.  I write.  I walk.  I take time outs for me.  I go to the lake and dip my toes.  

I've accepted myself for who I am and if others don't like me, that is their problem, not mine.  There are times when my own mind lies when I look in the mirror.  I hear that I am ugly, fat, stupid, unlovable and so on.  Those lies are just echoes from my former self.  

And.... they are just lies.

I also have learned to accept love into my heart.  I don't mean a romantic love but a pure love from family and friends.  I surround myself with good people and I love them back. 

I've learned to ask for help.  There are numbers that I can call and talk to someone immediately.   I reach out to friends and family. 

Do I still have feelings of ending it all?

I haven't in a very long time.  I've made many changes to my life to ensure that it doesn't happen.  Sometimes I wonder if I will have a moment of irrational thought and that would be all it takes.

It was hard work learning to step back from that ledge.  It continues to be hard work.

But good things come from hard work.

Suicide Hotline

800-273-8255

Semicolon

 

He saw my tattoo.

A butterfly with a subtle semicolon for a body.

The butterfly symbolizes a beautiful change.  

The semicolon is a symbol that means that an author could have ended a sentence and chose not to.  

The semicolon is now recognized as a symbol of affirmation and solidarity against suicide, depression and other mental health issues.  It inspires strength in the midst of suffering.

He saw my tattoo.  He noticed the semicolon fairly quickly.  I was surprised since many do not see that detail.  Especially a man...

He asked about it.  I am really open about how the tattoo came about.  I talk about how there was that one moment of irrational thought where I was really ready to end it.

The mental pain is hard to deal with and you just want it to stop.

He then shared his story.  We were in a room with so many people but it was like we were the only two people in the room.

He put his hand on my back and I could almost feel his energy, his pain, his suffering.  I could also feel his relief to be talking with someone who understands.  

Throughout the night he would come and stand next to me, touch my arm or my back.  He kept apologizing for it.  I told him that there is no need to apologize.

It is a great comfort to know that you are not alone and what you feel or what you are going through is hard. 

May is Mental Health Awareness Month.

It is important every month but times are really tough lately with the damn virus and the world is all turned upside down.  It is especially hard on teens.  

Please be kind to one another.

You never know what battles someone is fighting.

A Walk Among the Dead

 

I walked among the dead today.  I always have found peace in an old cemetery.  The headstones bear witness to so many years of change.  Weather worn and broken, they are testimonials of those who have walked this earth and those who were loved.

When walking in this particular cemetery, I realized that many of the stones weren't any older that the last 1800's.

Sad really....

No flowers adorn them.  Not anything that tells us that these people are remembered any longer.

I touch the stones as if they would speak to me.  Wishing I could hear the voices of long ago.  

There were babies laid to rest.  There were spouses who were loved and cherished.  I didn't see anyone who was over the age of 67.

Times were hard then, harder than now. 

Looking online at the records for this cemetery told some stories of those who are buried here.

I wondered if I was the only one to visit these graves.  Are there others who come?

Often I wonder about my own mortality.  I am not afraid of death.  I had already died once.  Many have gone before me.

I am afraid of being buried.  My wishes are not to be left in a box in the ground.  Do not put a marker where I am.  Scatter my ashes to the wind and let me go.

I do not want to be left where no one will remember me.  I do not want my headstone to crumble.

Remember me as I am now.

A butterfly came to me as I was walking.  I stopped to watch it.  I felt a peaceful energy from it.  

The cemetery where I took these pictures is the Schoolcraft Cemetery in Calumet, MI.  

This was the first time that I had really walked around.

The following are just the pictures that I took.

One Very Irrational Thought

 

I never regret posting about how I deal with my depression.  If it helps just one person, then it not only helps them, it helps me.

I have my quiet days.  They are further and farther apart now that I have moved back home.  

I think because I feel more loved and accepted here.

A lot of my depression stems from my own demons in my head.  They tell me that I am ugly, fat, stupid, unlovable.... pick any type of insult and my demons say it.

I wrote a blog entry on the night that I had a moment of irrational thought and almost committed suicide.

You can read it here ------>  Click on these words.

I still think about that moment and how desperate I was to just end it.  

People ask about my butterfly tattoo on my left forearm.

It is in my favorite color and it has a small semicolon for a body.

A butterfly is a symbol of change for me.  They are beautiful and fragile.  They can be joyful to see.  They are graceful and most have limited life spans.

We all have limited life spans.  Some of us live to be in our 100's.  That is still a limited time.

I'm glad that I didn't limit my own life span.

Depression is some ugly shit.

It can be managed but I seriously don't think that there is really a cure.

I know that I will never be completely done with it.  I am better with fighting it now.

Learn your triggers and avoid them.  

Phone or visit a friend.  You don't have to tell them why if you don't want to but it helps to just hear someone who fills the part of you where depression lays.  

Journal or just write about what you are feeling.  Keep writing until it passes.  It helps you recognize the triggers.

Love yourself.  I know it's hard because of the lies you are hearing.  You just have to find the strength to tell them to shut the fuck up.

An emotional support animal or even a plant helps.  You have to take care of them, if you aren't living, who else will do it?

Take time for yourself.  I drive to the big lake and just dip my toes in.  It doesn't matter if its cold.  It grounds me.

I also walk in cemeteries.  They are very peaceful.  I touch old headstones and try to connect.  This person is someone who was loved very much and I wonder who visits their graves now (other than me).

I paint.  I make a big messy mess and create the hell out of something.  It awakens my energy.  The colors collide and form some amazing stuff.

I also just couch potato.  Doing absolutely nothing allows me to speak to my inner self and watch some cute dudes on tv.  (haha)

To be back where my friends and family helps so much.

To be able to visit my sister and laugh until we are both crying is amazing.  I am so thankful for her.

To spend time with old friends is extremely comforting.  My old self is resurfacing and it feels great.

To make new friends is the best.  

I treasure all my relationships.

I am allowing myself to be loved.  I make no apologies for who I am and I am accepted anyway.

I love myself and this is the very key.  I love myself enough to take care of me.

Suicide is a very permanent solution to a very temporary problem.  

You are not alone.

If you would like to learn more about Project Semicolon, click here.

Project Semicolon

Suicide Hotline

800-273-8255

Ghost of Depression Past

 

I saw a new doctor the other day.  Since moving back home, I knew I needed a medical care provider.

I ain't getting any younger.

Well that and the fact that I have some health issues that need managing.

It was a much longer appointment that I figured on.  I was impressed that she took the time to get to know me and my health history.  

When it came time to talk about how I manage my depression, I got a little anxious.  Even though I have battled depression for a very long time, it sometimes isn't easy to talk about without my eyes leaking a little.

To accept the causes is a little painful and then to openly talk about them is almost traumatic.  

When I had to tell her about the time that I had contemplated suicide it was a little painful.  It is harder for me to talk about it because it is hard to hide the emotion when you are face to face.  When I write about it, you can't see the tears stream down my face or my lip quiver.

I have come a long way in my healing from the past trauma.  The years of mental abuse, self sabotage, feelings of being unlovable, failure, sexual assault, and various other bits and pieces of hell had taken its toll and all came to a head.

You can read that here ----> Click Right Here

The best healing I have done was just by moving home.  Its a place where I have felt safe and secure.  Being with people who have known me for a very long time has helped me reconnect with myself before it all went south.

The doctor asked me if I still felt suicidal.  I explained that I never really was suicidal.  It was that one moment of irrational thinking that could have been the end but instead of cutting or taking pills, I decided to stop and just write.

And that helped a little

The other part was to accept my traumas and not let them mold me.  I own them and keep them in a part of me.  I have built on the fact that they did not break me.

I also learned to accept who I am.  I don't hide my true self from anyone.  I own that part of me too.  My true self is someone who surprises me.  I don't have much of a filter these days.  I say what I think and am honest with those around me.  I am also honest with myself.

I no longer accept anything less than I deserve.  I deserve to be happy.

When things go wrong, I no longer blame myself.

Rejection no longer cripples me.  If I ain't your cup of tea, I can't sweeten it with my sugar.  My life goes on.

I recognize my triggers.  I steer clear of them or I don't allow them to control me, I control them.

My boundaries are set.  As I see myself in fullness, it is easier to see others in the same way.

I also try to communicate well.  If I need clarity, I ask questions.  If the answers are honest and open, I accept them and take them to heart.  Sometimes the answers aren't always what I hope to hear, but it does give some peace to know how the other person feels.

I am still not 100% but I can say that the depression episodes are very far and few between now.  I do laugh more and I feel happier.  I see it on my face and in my heart.

I am thankful for those who are a part of my life and accept my quirks and never ask for anything more than I am capable of giving of myself.  I am truly blessed by the friendships that I continue to have and I love everyone of them wholly and completely.

Just Before Sunrise

 

It was just before sunrise as I watched him sleep.  I reached out to softly touch his hair.  Listening to his breathing, I wondered how I ended up there.

Every little choice in our lives brings us to a certain moment in time.  Sometimes we just want that moment to stop so we can just enjoy it longer.

Sometimes we are just put somewhere that we were meant to experience.  

To watch him sleep....

It wasn't about sex.  Sometimes there is a deeper connection.  To be close, so close to almost feel the heart.  

To almost feel what makes him, him.

To watch him sleep....

To find some sense of inner peace.  To find a deeper part of a friendship.  To understand.  

To touch his hair...

Reaching out to connect in a slight way.  To remember this moment as it may never come again....

just to watch him sleep.

Sex is Easy, Relationships are Hard

 It has been 3009 days since I was in a relationship.  That's a little over 8 years.

God, I sound like I just stood up at an AA meeting.

The ending of that relationship winged me a bit, sort of knocked me of the horse, took the wind out of my sails.....

You get the picture.

I don't think that was the whole reason to choose not to date though.

You see, I had therapy.  (insert winky face)

I actually had really good therapy.  After the ending of that relationship, I sought help to find out why I was choosing the same man over and over again to be connected with.

Now, there is a whole lot of psychobabble and what for as to why I stayed single for so long but I will put it in a nut shell.

(I must admit, there is a long pause here that you can't really see because I have to try to put a lot of stuff in a tiny nut shell.)

Maybe I won't try to nut shell it.....  still pausing....

But I did choose men who either cheated or just disappeared on me.

Yes, disappeared.  (That's a whole other story.)

I had to spend time with myself to get to know the real me in other to understand what I should look for in a partner.  I have to understand my own needs and wants and not give into the "dealbreakers" in order to just be with someone.

I bet at this point you are wondering when I would start talking about sex, eh?

For the last 8 years, I have been looking within myself for the things that I can offer someone freely and discover my own happiness on my own.  With that being said, I still needed sex.

Not many people would willingly admit that but come on...we all need to have some sort of contact with...well....you know.

I had a certain friend who I saw on occasion for a meeting of the, er, um "minds".  A chance to unwind and not worry about all the other crap that affects us on a daily basis.

It worked for 8 whole years.

I knew that I couldn't give 100% to a relationship and I understood that he couldn't give 100% to a relationship and we came to the conclusion that we would just give each other what we needed at the time and that was that.

Was it hard to not "catch feelings"?  Oh yes, but you can still care for someone without saying the "L" word out loud.  We just had to accept the terms of our relationship and carry on as such.

The one thing that was easy about the sex is that we knew where we stood.  The expectation was clear .  There were no unsaid words and no assuming anything other than a roll in the hay.  It was very doable.

So where am I going with all this....

Recently a friend said "sex is easy, relationships are hard".

Oh how true that is.

The sex part of it was so damn easy.

Relationships are hard.

and scary

To put you vulnerabilities out there for someone to accept is very terrifying.

What is they don't like me on my bad days?

Oh and what about that word????  You know....

The "L" word.

To love someone is amazing yes, but you also risk getting your heart broken.

Who in the hell wants to go through that?

in my case....again.

You have to show your faults and needs and desires and life with someone to love them.  It's scary and it's hard.

It can also be beautiful.

It all depends on how much of a gamble you are willing to take.

Sex is such a small part of a relationship.

But it's the easy part.

Men Are Abused Too

 

This past week has been a dandy one.  I am still trying to process everything.

If you have been following my blog posts, you may remember that I had an ordeal several years ago with my ex-husband's crazy girlfriend.

You can read it here --> Click Link

His crazy girlfriend is once of the most evil people I have ever encountered in my entire life.  I couldn't wait to leave that small town so I would never have to run into her again.

I always felt that something was going to happen.  Her level of crazy isn't something to take lightly.

My ex ended up marrying her.

MARRYING her!

He turned a blind eye to the little things.  Things that outsiders see more clearly.  I always was watching because my daughter's safety comes first and foremost.

I don't even know how to write everything out because as I stated, I am still processing it all.

The past few weeks, my daughter had been having issues with her anxiety and depression.  As a parent, it is hard to try to help as I am not a professional.  I called her dad many times so that we could figure out what to do as parents.  On Monday is all came to a head and on Tuesday, she got help and things seemed to be turning around.

Thursday morning I get a phone call from my ex looking for our daughter.  I went into instant panic because he never ever calls me.  He assured me that he just wanted to talk to her and that everything was fine.  I checked her GPS and told him that she is at her dorm and is probably sleeping.

Early afternoon I call a call from my daughter, there was panic in her voice and she said that her dad got the shit beat out of him.  I told her to hold on and went somewhere private to take the call.

She said that her dad's wife beat him with her cane (she had back surgery) and that he was hurt bad and that the house was trashed.  She didn't know what to do.  I asked if the cops were called and she said that he was at the police station with his brother and they were filing a report.

She said that the wife flew into a rage after learning that my ex sold our daughter's snowmobile and that he was giving the money to our daughter so she could use it for college.  

I am still in disbelief.

She beat him, bit him, destroyed several things and then beat their dog with a hand held shower thing until the dog was nearly dead.

Who does that?

I asked my daughter if there was anything I could do.  She wanted to go see her dad but I told her to hold off until the police handle everything.  I explained that the wife would be arrested and not to go anywhere near there until she was gone since my daughter seemed to be the source of her rage.

An hour later I called my daughter to see what was happening.  I asked if she was ok and she said that surprisingly, she was in a good mood.  I asked if I should come for the weekend and she said that she wanted me there.  I booked a hotel and made plans to day Friday off of work.

We kept in touch, a while later she called from her dad's and couldn't believe the amount of destruction.  Seeing the dog's blood everywhere was upsetting as well as seeing her dad with a black eye.  The wife also bit my ex.  She and her uncle were taking her dad to get looked at and to document the violence.

My daughter also said that she was going to be with her dad through out the weekend and that I should hold off on coming down.

I was amazed at the strength my daughter had at that moment.  After all that she had been suffering herself, she pulled it together.

There was once moment when she called me when she was so sick to her stomach.  I said that it was a normal reaction to seeing something so traumatic.  

We have had several conversations and more details came out.  I also became sick.

How can a human do something so horrible to another human?

I asked to talk to my ex.  I wanted to know if this happened before he called me that morning.  He said it did and that's why he was looking for our daughter.  I asked why he didn't tell me and he said he didn't want to upset me.  I explained that even though we haven't been married in over 14 years, I still cared.  He is still the father of my child.  Our child loves him dearly and it would crush her if anything happens to him.  He started crying.

He said that she had killed their other dog because the dog listened to him and not her.  He told our daughter that the dog was hit by a car.  

Its just sickening.

I knew something bad was going to happen.  I always picked up on the little indicators.  My ex had my in his contacts as "Craig" so she wouldn't get angry when I called.  He would always let me go to voice mail and call me back when he could talk in private.  He didn't want our daughter to stay at his house as it upset his wife.  There is just so many red flags I cannot even explain them all.

When I asked about why he didn't do something before it escalated to this he said that she was never this bad.  I said she was always this bad.  She was such an evil person from the beginning but he chose not to see it.

I never said "told you so" but I sure the hell thought it.

I feel for my daughter for having this happen to someone that she loves so much.  I wish I could take the pain from her.  I can only be a support for her and help her through this ordeal.

I pray that if that woman gets out of jail that she stays away from my kid otherwise she will have to deal with my wrath.

I know several people who have heard what happened ask about the dog.  He's now fine.  He has a broken jaw.  From what I suspect, I believe that he was protecting my ex and took the hardest of blows.  The dog didn't need surgery and seems to be in good spirits.

Losing My Religion

I just took the dog out to pee and the night air was so mild.  I looked up into the night and found myself praying to God.

This might seem sort of normal to most (or not) but for me it was profound.

I've been an atheist for years.  I had lost my faith.  After so many hurts and scars, I lost my trust in so many, even God.  I suppose many could judge me and wonder how I could turn my back to God.  When prayers went unanswered and a pastor and congregation failed to be an instrument of support in my most desperate time of need, it was easy to let go of my faith.

I don't talk about the bad things.  They still linger in the background, more as a reminder of how strong I can be.  The best way to heal to to acknowledge the past but look to the future.

I think the most profound aspect of healing was my decision to move back home.  

Back to where I was before I was broken.

Catching myself praying for strength during this time caused tears because I knew that my healing process is working.  I am letting people in.  I tell people that I love them and that they matter to me.  Opening up my heart to accept love in is all part of it.

Tears fell and I was thankful that I am able to forgive God for some of the heavier wrongs in my life.  I think I am seeing them more as scars, not fully healed but still able to see the wound and remember that it didn't kill me.

I am not fully healed, hell, I may never be.  

But I have begun to forgive myself, those who have hurt me and most importantly....

forgive God.

Amen

Insomnia is a Sanctimonious Bitch

 

Night two of not being able to sleep.  It doesn't surprise me.  I was due.

My head is full of chaos.  Restless thoughts bounce off the walls of my skull.  They feel almost like pop rocks on the tongue.

I watched videos.  I read a book.  I listened to music.  

I took melatonin.

Nothing seems to work.

I am tired but can't sleep.

I know, I know...I should not be on the computer.  I should try to relax.  I should find some zen.  I should spray lavender smelly shit.  I should do a lot of things.

Many people suffer from insomnia from time to time.  I'm not the only one.

At least it isn't depression.  Depression has been such an enemy.

I haven't been this happy in a very long time.

The beginning of the week started off a bit rough.  Car trouble, kid trouble, just things that cannot be controlled.  It happens.

I do miss being creative.  I need to have that outlet to release how I feel.  Creativity helps me put the chaos to canvas.

For now, I will type these words and hope that the thoughts become quiet for a bit.