What do I want?

I have no idea. I officially have no clue what I want, what I need, or what I expect. I know what I'd LIKE to expect, but I also know that Santa Claus isn't real...so there ya go.

It's been a rough week since last Thursday. I've had a lot on my mind since then, a lot that I'm having a hard time sorting through. Then Friday, Saturday, and Sunday were pretty much perfect. It was the first time in MONTHS that I've felt like I could actually catch my breath and breathe. I've spent so much time being scared over the last year...it feels weird to not have that fear as a constant.

Every time I start to feel normal, or even GOOD, some little thing happens to throw me off course. It can be the smallest thing, but can evoke the most intense fear in me. It automatically takes me back to a year and a half ago, and I'm convinced that history is repeating itself. It throws everything up in the air. I feel like I can't catch my breath.

The worst part about those times is that no one knows how to handle them. I know what I need in those scary moments, but....yeah. I know what makes those moments worse, and usually those things are exactly what end up happening. It's times like these that I get most confused. They make me re-evaluate everything. They make me question the decisions I've made and make me wonder what I'm doing wrong. Which, you guessed it, makes the feeling worse.

My main goal now is to get myself sorted out. The problem with it is that it's something I've got to do completely on my own. No one understands, and even if they did, no one wants to deal with it. Hell, I don't even want to deal with it. The goal is to be the person I was a year ago. That was me at my best. That was me centered. That's the person I need to be again.

I'll keep you posted.

Not a Pretty Girl...Ani DiFranco

I am not a pretty girl
that is not what I do
I ain't no damsel in distess
and I don't need to be rescued
so put me down punk
maybe you'd prefer a maiden fair
isn't there a kitten stuck up a tree somewhere

I am not an angry girl
but it seems like I've got everyone fooled
every time I say something they find hard to hear
they chalk it up to my anger
and never to their own fear
and imagine you're a girl
just trying to finally come clean
knowing full well they'd prefer you
were dirty and smiling

and I am sorry
I am not a maiden fair
and I am not a kitten stuck up a tree somewhere

and generally my generation
wouldn't be caught dead working for the man
and generally I agree with them
trouble is you gotta have youself an alternate plan
and I have earned my disillusionment
I have been working all of my life
and I am a patriot
I have been fighting the good fight
and what if there are no damsels in distress
what if I knew that and I called your bluff?
don't you think every kitten figures out how to get down
whether or not you ever show up

I am not a pretty girl
I don't want to be a pretty girl
no I want to be more than a pretty girl

Kill your baby for as low as $340, plus disposal fee...

I haven't been able to shake my curiosity about abortion since I turned my research paper in. For some reason, I'm still drawn to it. Today, I found out that there's an abortion clinic here in Atlanta that actually performs ELECTIVE abortions up to 25 weeks gestation. TWENTY FIVE weeks...6 months and a week. Babies have been known to survive from as early as 20 weeks gestation. After that, they perform medical necessity abortions to 26 weeks.

The website states that they do these late term abortions by D & E (Dilation and evacuation). They state that on the first day, lamanaria (medical seaweed) is inserted into the cervix. These sticks absorb amniotic fluid and "gently" open the cervix. The second day, the woman is put under and the "contents of the uterus" are removed. They don't say what they do to actually terminate the baby.

It made me sick at my stomach to know that something this horrific is happening this close to home. And the cost of the barbaric practice? The late term abortion will run you $4,500 (as listed on the website), plus what they call a "Comp fee" (disposal fee), which will run you between $70-$210, depending on the height and weight of the baby and whether it was a termination for a single or multiples. Their early abortions start at $340.

http://www.atlantasurgicenter.com/

Examination...

I thought you were supposed to perform these life-changing "examinations" of yourself and your life a little later than 23. I was saving all this shit for my mid-life crisis. Oh well.

If any of you read my last entry, you know a majority of what's been on my mind..what I've been examining. But there are other things. In the last 2 or 3 days, I've realized that my anxiety (and therefore my depression) GREATLY decreases when there is open communication between Dayton and I. Even though I've only realized this in the last few days, I already feel like I'm being pulled out of that dark place I've been in for the last few months (more intensely in the last few weeks). That's a huge weight off my shoulders. But for some reason, my thoughts keep drifting back to my family. I feel robbed of a real family. Isn't the family unit supposed to provide comfort in your dark days? Support in your weakest hours? And happiness with your successes? Aren't they supposed to be happy when you're happy? None of this is the case in my family. It seems they always point out the negative in my happy moments. They add fuel to the fire in my weak moments. And with many of them, unless I'm catering to them and their ideas of what or who I should be...I might as well not even exist. Is it really so unforgivable that I've got two tattoo's and a tongue ring? Really? Was I the first girl to marry at 18? The first girl to have a baby at 19? No....I was just the first one in my family.

On top of that, there are so many "secrets" swirling around, it's hard to keep up. Everyone knows everybody's secrets, but everyone pretends not to. They're life altering kinds of secrets, but everyone keeps quiet. I have no clue why. Wouldn't it be easier just to give up the lie and TALK? It seems like a lifetime of keeping up with secrets and lies would just be exhausting. Can you imagine the weight on one person's shoulders? Can you imagine how much lighter they would be if they just let it out?

The whole idea of trying to figure out my family is exhausting. And the funny thing is, I don't know why I'm trying to. They clearly aren't that worried about figuring me out.

How do you forgive.....

...when you never learned how? How to do find the strength to let it go, when all you know is how to hold a grudge? And how is it that you can't find the strength to do EITHER of these even when you know it's for YOUR own good, instead of the other person's?

I've been blessed with the gift of holding a grudge, remembering every detail, and having no idea how to achieve "forgiveness".

Starting to make peace with the inevitable...

I've really been avoiding the idea of anti-depressants for a while now. I got off of them because I got pregnant. I stayed off of them to prove a point. I think I made my point, but all that hard work seems to be crashing down now. Now that life is finally starting to settle down, it's time for me to start dealing with whats happened. That reality has brought along with it, a whole new kind of anxiety and depression. I've been back on anxiety meds for a little while now to help with the panic attacks. But the depression is actually scaring me. That's a first. Well hell, there goes that whole "I-am-woman-hear-me-roar" thing. Damn. Will update this story as needed.

I am not a pretty girl....

Nothing like old school Ani Difranco to stir some stuff up.

I keep re-playing this song (particularly these lines) over and over in my head.

I am not a pretty girl/That's not what I do/I ain't no damsel in distress/and I don't need to be rescued.......and the next:

I am not an angry girl/But it seems like I've got everyone fooled/Every time I say something they find hard to hear/They chalk it up to my anger/And never to their own fear....

The truth is, I am angry. I'm angry because I've never been "the pretty girl" to the love of my life. His ideal girl is skinny, pierced, tattooed, dark hair (sometimes), and a nice ass. I'm not skinny, though I'm not overweight, either. I got my first tattoo (a tramp stamp) because I was so scared that he was getting ready to leave me for another girl...and the ONE thing she didn't have that he loved, was a tramp stamp. I got my ears pierced in hopes even THAT might make me more attractive to him. I had always wanted to be pierced and tattooed, but am a total wuss. And of course, I've got mousy brown hair and no ass, whatsoever.

It wasn't until after we split and I saw his myspace status (has a fetish for tats and piercings...its almost perverted), that I FINALLY got the guts to do something I'd always wanted-I got my tongue pierced (I thought only tattoos were no-no's while pregnant). It hurt like hell...but I had never felt so liberated.

It was after our son was born that I finally got the tattoo that I wanted, just for me. A really whimsical bird on my wrist....to remind me to never be scared to do it on my own again...that I had pulled through once and could do it again.

So, I'm finally starting to accept being just mediocre me. No career (yet), barely modified, not skinny, not particularly interesting, not talented....just me.

The beginning of the end, April 13, 2009

I was about 2 months pregnant, and had an afternoon appointment with my counselor. I had been getting the distinct feeling from my husband that he was no longer interested in our marriage. After I talked to her, I decided that it was time to suck it up and explain to my husband that he could be happy about this planned pregnancy and act like it, or me and our daughter would be leaving. Without batting an eye, he said "Okay, go". After a few hours of arguing, he called my mother to come get me. Divorce was never mentioned until after my mom showed up to get me. He told her that he wanted a divorce. She told me, I asked him, and I got a quiet "yes".

I calmly (as calmly as I could) told him that I hated him and would never forgive him, and we left. I got sick on the hour and a half drive to my mom's house. I cried myself to sleep when we finally got there. The next morning, I woke up in a total panic. The worst thing about that next morning was that I was angry at this little life growing inside of me, because I was sure this new baby was the reasoning behind him wanting a divorce. On top of that, the idea of bringing this new baby into a broken home brought on overwhelming feelings of guilt.

I called my husband that afternoon to try to talk. He informed me, loudly in his office, that we were over, he was emotionally tired of working on our marriage, and that there was nothing I could do or say to make him want me back. He ended the conversation by yelling "This is it! We're over!". I was humiliated. I was devastated. And with those 5 little words, I felt like my heart had actually broken.

I kept thinking, "After all the things I've stuck with him through, he's just throwing me away! What was the point of working through all those problems in the first place?". I was humiliated to have to keep explaining to people over and over and over that my husband had kicked me and our daughter out.

It is humiliating to admit that this is when I started considering an abortion. I'd always been STRONGLY pro-life, but now...I felt guiltier than I ever thought imaginable for bringing this baby into a broken home, with a "crazy" mother. I felt like every baby deserved to be brought into the world with happy parents, a daddy to gush, and an actual HOME to be brought back to...not a single bedroom that his mother and big sister already shared. I never could bring myself to do it, even after hearing from my husband that he never wanted another baby with me...that he just got me pregnant to shut me up. I decided that somehow, I would provide a home for our children, and that I could love this new baby enough for BOTH of us...and that I wanted him more than anything.

The darkest days of my life came before this separation...when my husband was wrapped up in other girls and his video games. The fact that I had stayed through all that, just to have him throw me away like yesterday's garbage...made these first few weeks after the split almost unbearable. It was the most humiliating time of my life.

A little intro...

I am 23 years old. I have been married for almost 5 years. I have two children, 3 years and 6 months, have been through two separations, one of which lasted for 3 months--during my second pregnancy. I am the youngest of 4 brothers and 3 sisters....all of which (except one, that died in 2004) could take me or leave me without a second thought on the matter. They're all half siblings...what can I say? They have something to do with me in my darkest hours and then they disappear. Go figure.

In the almost 5 years that I've been married, my husband has spent the majority of the time thinking that I am a total psycho bitch that's nothing but possessive and lazy, and being more interested in other girls...though my staying at home with our children was a MUTUAL decision.

My parents apparently think I'm a total fuck-up. I'm in my second year of my FIRST stint in college (working towards a BA of Science in Psychology with a concentration in child development, with a minor in criminal justice), and yet, they barely seem to notice. Now add my sister to the equation (who happens to be MY dad's step daughter), and they're constantly excited about the grades she's making and what she's going to do with her real estate law degree (this is her....second (i think) stint in college).

Currently, my biggest heartbreak is the latest separation. It only lasted three short months. I went from being a pregnant stay at home mom to a working (full time...usually 12 hour days), single mother...who was told that my husband never wanted our second child-that he only got me pregnant to shut me up. I considered abortion. I never thought I'd be one to consider abortion--for any reason. I had always been against it. And yet, because I thought I was bringing a child into a broken home where only one parent REALLY wanted him, I considered it. And of course, my in-laws hate me. Mostly because my husband has told them things (like that I was crazy) without giving them the story behind it (like, I was actually heart broken that he was more interested in other girls). Thankfully, my STEP-mother-in-law knows pretty much everything and has been supportive and still loves me.

My heart WAS broken. My heart is STILL broken. And clearly, I'm still trying to deal with my marital issues, along with my family ones.

So, welcome to the journey. It's going to be a long one...