The Green Eyed Crazy Girl

I have had some unwelcome company lately, someone I did’t even know was well aquainted with me until they were practically living inside me. You see, when we get together, all hell breaks loose, so I try to stay away. My vivd and overactive imagination kicks it into overdrive and the crazy girl aspect of my personality I hide so well suddenly makes her presence known. Who is my visitor? – No, not my monthly visitor, although she wreaks her own havoc. My current visitor is worse! – I’ll give you a hint, she is green, oh-so-green. Still guessing? Didn’t think so, I knew my readers were smart.
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Chronic Pain is Just a Part of My Life

Self-worth, stamina, normalcy, parenting, fitness, finances, independence…

I sit in the the tiny classroom staring through tears at the white board with the words ‘What Has Chronic Pain Taken From You?’ written in black at the top. Green, red and blue words commingle in a kaleidescope of broken dreams, filling the board and causing my head to ache.
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Wonderings

The last post I wrote about, and aptly entitled, Mr. Wonderful was exactly six months ago. Its amazing how much has changed… And how much has stayed the same. I am still so in love with him, so completely utterly in love. There is no doubt there, and there is no doubt about how much Mr. Wonderful loves me either. Continue reading

Small Deaths

Most women, for most of their lives, go through a monthly cycle of changing hormones, physical and psychological fluctuations and emotional upheavals. Over the course of twenty eight days our bodies prep for pregnancy, creating the perfect environment to foster a new little person. It is only when our womb remains empty that the cycle ends and we shed our useless uterine walls and the bleeding begins.
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Mothers & Daughters

I will never have the relationship with my mom that I crave. On the other hand, I don’t think I will ever be the daughter my mother wants. So maybe, at its root, it is an issue within me.
My mom and I are different creatures. Her life has been the model of what I don’t want for mine. That sounds harsh, but let me explain before your cast judgment.
My mom married my dad, at the time he was a new recruit in the air force, when she was eighteen for five days and spent the next ten years moving around while my dad got various promotions. She went right from her mother’s house to my dad’s care and finished her last year of high school married to him. Her first time on her own, my dad left for two weeks to train for his position as an air traffic controller, she had a nervous break down and was hospitalized for ten days. Since then she hasn’t spent more than a day or two alone.
She has never worked outside the home, and while I completely appreciate that I had a loving stay at home mom, I haven’t lived at home for over 10 years.
My mom has lived an emotionally stunted life. She has the mentality and attitude of a ten year old child. I wish I could help her, I am pretty sire she is a rapid cycling bipolar with depression but she will never get help.
Its hard when you realize that not only are your parents fallible beings, but sometimes they don’t know what’s best for them.
As much as I long for a more open, adult relationship with my mom, I will never have it. I can’t help her unless she helps herself but she is unwilling to do that. So all I can do is love her. And put up with her stupid shit without allowing myself to feel guilty for moving out, growing up and having my own life.

As always, thanks for reading!
– S.

Daddy?

I am lucky enough to have one of those ‘daddy men’ in my life. I know how lucky I am and thank the stars everyday for bringing us into each others lives. We are so much more together than we ever could be apart.

What are your thoughts on being a father vs a daddy? Is it enough to throw money at children? Is paying child support on time the hallmark of a good father, or daddy?

Oh Jenni!

My delusions of happily ever after have been replaced by a solid grip on reality and an even deeper disgust for deadbeat dads and men who lie.

Everyone has a father. My eldest two children have a Daddy. There’s a HUGE difference in the two.

You are not a daddy, until you act like one. You may be a father because of your genetic donation of sperm, but make NO mistake, you are NO Daddy.

Daddies pay child support. Daddies put their darling babies, first. Daddies read books and make decisions for their children based on fact, not on their delusional ego or maniacal jealous spite. They buy diapers before cigarettes, snowsuits before a coat for themselves and appreciate the mommies who carry the weight of it all when they aren’t willing or able. Rent isn’t optional, and even if they don’t live in the house where their children lay…

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Just Breathe

Just Breathe.

Major changes are happening in my life. C. and I broke up and I am moving home to my parents. I have mixed feelings about everything – one minute I am relieved and excited and the next I am terrified and lonely – but I am confident I made the right choice for me.

That was written on May 29 of this year. In the intern, so much has changed – again.
Hopefully over the next few weeks I will get back to blogging. I am not sure whether to let you all on on the last few more this or to look ahead to the future…
Since my last post I have moved home to my parents basement and then I moved out with Mr. Wonderful in August. He has a six year old son, whom I adore, that lives with us half the time. It is humbling to develop such a special relationship with such a wonderful little kid. In fact it is only fitting, being Mr. Wonderful’s son, that he is totally WonderKid. Beyond the major changes in my love life and kiddo, I have attempted return to work, only to fail horribly. After pushing for 4 months to work three thee hour shifts a week I finally called it quits one week before attending a chronic pain management clinic at the rehab center at the hospital. I withdrew from fentanyl, had my heart rate spike to over 150 at rest and up to 220 when I exercised from my pain level being too high so I had to start the opioid battle again…
Now I am on constant levels of a potent opioid but at lower levels than before. Still, I was driving for twenty minutes, resting 15, driving another 30 minutes – where usually I would throw up in the parking lot – resting for another 15 minutes finally making it into work an hour and a half after leaving home. I would work for three hours, taking two or three breaks of 10-15 minutes, and do the same hour and a half drive and rest home – frequently throwing up at home from the spike in pain level. It was hell.
Over the last four weeks, however, I have been attending the pain clinic. Which I think is where I will start the next post. That and all the news and plans from the surgeon…

There’s lots of interesting stuff happening, I still feel overwhelmed sometimes but I get over it. Everyday I remind myself to Just Breathe.
As always, thanks for reading!
-S.

Faith and Ms. McCain

In the last three months my life has changed more than I thought it would in a year. I have left a five year long relationship, exchanged a major city for my small home town as my surroundings, admitted I feel better after three and a half solid years of not so good feelings, kicked a three year long narcotic addiction and gained some perspective, experience and self-worth. It’s been a hell of a couple months but instead of feeling drained and fed up, I feel… Hopeful? A renewed sense of faith in the goodness possible in life? Like I am a strong person, – I have been told this in various ways, but had yet to embrace it and learn to rely on my inner-strength to see me through what my emotional self feels is impossible. Faith. In me. – That I can work through and get over this… Whatever ‘this’ the last couple of years have been? Continue reading

Mr. Wonderful

I thought I would introduce you all to Mr. Wonderful. He is this amazing man sitting beside me, lightly touching my leg while he reads and I type. He makes me comfortable and, perhaps most surprisingly, content. I have known of him for years, and could even claim to have known him years ago, but the man I met a few months back is both the same boy I knew and infinite times better. Continue reading