If I could find assurance
To leave you behind
I know my better half would fade
And all my doubts
Is a staircase for you
Opened out of this maze

The first step is the one you believe in
The second one might be profound

I’ll follow you down through the eye of the storm
Don’t worry I’ll keep you warm
I’ll follow you down
While we’re passing through space
I don’t care if we fall from grace
I’ll follow you down

I’ll follow you down to where forever lies
Without a doubt, I’m on your side
There’s nowhere else that I would rather be
I’m not about to compromise
Give you up to say goodbye
I’ll guide you through the deep
I’ll keep you close to me

~SHINEDOWN

I’ve always heard that anger is a secondary emotion. That anger comes from hurt, fear, guilt, sadness. It’s not something you feel on its own. While I do believe that to be accurate, anger seems to be the prevailing emotion taking over all others, right now. At least for me it is. Adam hasn’t expressed any anger around me. I wonder if he allows that to come out when he’s alone? Does he hide it from me? Or is it possible he just isn’t pissed off, like I am? I don’t want “vengeance”. All I really hope for, is to be done. Done with the people who don’t provide any more positive value to me or to my family. Done worrying about what’s going to happen today, tomorrow, and in the months to come. Done lying awake at night, running over and over in mind all of the possible “what ifs” that haunt my thoughts. Done answering questions and giving explanations to everyone texting and calling me to tell me whatever twisted version of this shit they’ve heard, either from Jackie herself, or passed down in this fucked up game of “telephone”. Every time it’s retold, new outrageous embellishments are added. I just want to be left alone. Is that so much to ask?

I barely have it in me to discuss anything other than the superficial with Adam. I so want to be able to put my upset into a “box”, so that I can keep it tucked away and find a little bit of normalcy again. But, it’s like trying to cram a gallon of water into a container that only holds an ounce. It spills out and pours into every other part of my days and nights. There’s nowhere to hide. It’s truly exhausting.

All I know for sure, is that I’ve got my husband’s back. Anybody who doesn’t like it can fuck right off. I will dissolve relationships with anyone who threatens my family. I don’t care how long I’ve known you, or how much I’ve invested in a relationship with you. I can absolutely manage without you. I’m ashamed that I’ve allowed people who’ve already shown me how willing and able they are to hurt me, to be part of my own happiness. I’m choosing to focus on who I have around me right now. The ones who actually love me like I’ve loved them. The ones who smile when I do, and cry when I do. I’ve learned that just because someone matters to me, doesn’t mean it’s reciprocated. I can’t fix anyone else. It isn’t enough to love someone. I have to take my peace back. My joy. My life. It won’t all be solved today, tomorrow, or the next day. It won’t take forever, though. I might not be able to see it yet, but there has to be a time coming when I can stop holding my breath. When I can put my pieces back together. Every time I’ve felt shattered like this, it’s the process of making myself whole again that reminds me of just how capable I am. I figure out again what and who I really want around me. I’m much more careful about who I share myself and my family with. Somehow, this anger is giving me strength. I’m determined to make it to the other side, because I’ll be damned if anyone is going to steal what I’ve spent my life working for. I’m taking back my power.

Tonight the monsters in my head
Are screaming so damn loud
But I built walls so high
So they never even make a sound

It’s a mask, it’s a lie
It’s the only home I’ve ever known
‘Cause being who I really am
Has only left me more alone

I am not okay
And I need you to see it
I have so much to say
And no one to hear it
The reason I keep quiet
With so much at stake
I always feel like a burden, let it silence me
You’ll never understand
Why it’s so hard to say
I’m not okay

I’ll never have the words, I can’t explain this hell
But what if it kills me
If I keep it to myself?
To myself

~Citizen Soldier

A few days ago, last Thursday to be exact, I was very much not okay. It’s so fucking hard to explain the reasons why, inside my blog, when I can’t talk about the biggest “pieces” that make up this ugly and terrifying “puzzle”. It involves my kids, in a big way. While Jackie isn’t entirely responsible for this shit, she sure as hell contributed everything she could to it. I drive myself insane, trying to understand why. Not only this, but she recruited (or attempted to recruit) everyone close to me to participate in harming my husband and children as much as possible. She did manage to gather one of the people I’d never have expected would abandon me, or even be interested in listening to “my side” to this chaos. I’m so consumed with worries for my family right now, I have no more room inside myself to fight for relationships with anyone who can’t see or doesn’t care about what this is doing to me. It really is true, when life gets tough, you find out who actually does have your back. Who genuinely means it, when they promise they’ll always be here for you.

It’s almost impossible, to find words to express how I was feeling, last Thursday. I spent the entire day desperately trying to find something, anything, to believe in. I began to fantasize about my handgun that’s currently stored at my dad’s house, because we can’t have guns in our house until after Adam’s case is finished. He was charged with “domestic assault”. We’ve got attorneys who assure us the worst case scenarios that play over in our minds are almost certainly not going to happen. Still, the fears take over me. I made Hawaiian hot ham and cheese sandwiches, for supper. I knew I wouldn’t be able to eat anything. I attempt to force myself, and gag almost immediately after I put food inside my mouth. I lost 7 pounds in a week. That accounts for more than 7% of my entire body weight, which is becoming downright dangerous. My hot ham and cheese sandwiches are Mj’s favorite meal. I thought about making this supper for my family, and then finding an excuse to leave the house, so I could make my way over to my dad’s house. I knew he wasn’t home. I pleaded with God, please help me to see the things I used to. Where is the light? How do I begin to crawl out from inside this hole I’m stuck so deep inside? I didn’t want to ask Adam for help, because he’s struggling with just as much as I am. More, in fact. I don’t want my babies to see the pure hopelessness I’m battling. It’s such an intensely lonely place to be. I’m trapped inside a private hell, and I can’t tell anyone about it. My kids were smiling, and sat in the kitchen with me, telling me all about their days. The evening passed by quickly, and I never left the house. Instead, when Adam and I got into the shower, I experienced an absolute breakdown. I sat on the shower floor, and I yelled and sobbed uncontrollably. I got angry. All of these emotions I’ve fought so hard to keep within myself came flowing from me like water from a fire hydrant. There was so much built-up pressure behind them, once they started to come out, I was helpless to stop it. I told Adam, “I can’t find it. I don’t see it. I just want OUT!” Adam wrapped me in his arms, and begged me trust him, when he promises we’re going to be okay. He insists, he has contingency plans for every possible scenario. He asked me to please stop trying to pretend I’m alright, because I think I need to protect him. He sees my hurt. He feels my pain and worry. I see his, too. He’s carrying the weight of the guilt he feels, because we’re all going through this hell. He accepts all the responsibility for his family’s struggles. He blames only himself, but I don’t. I believe every one of us, who were involved, has a part they contributed. Some were bigger than others, but we all helped to create this mess. I know both Adam and I would give anything to be able to go back and do it better.

As Adam held me, on the floor of our shower, I looked into his eyes. Despite the shower water running down our faces, his tears were evident. His eyes were red, and full of concern. This only added to my own guilt and sadness. I’ve never seen my husband like this. Of course, he’s never seen me this way, either. We spent over 90 minutes, talking, crying, and clinging to one another inside our shower. Adam suggested maybe I should go talk with my doctor, about these physical and emotional symptoms I’m experiencing. I shook my head, and I told him I don’t think it would be a good idea for me to have any kind of pills that might slow down my body and brain, right now. He knew what I meant by that.

On Friday morning, something had changed within me. Although our circumstances were no different, the heaviness inside me seemed to have lightened significantly. I put music on, for the first time since this mess had been made, and I began to tackle the mess inside my home. I cleaned my kitchen. I got myself dressed. I made our bed. Mj and I made some monkey bread together. I washed, dried, folded, and put away four loads of laundry. When Adam got home from work, I smiled at him. He lit up and told me that was the most beautiful thing he’s ever seen. He hadn’t seen me smile, in way too long. I made it through the entire weekend, without waking up only seeing and feeling darkness. I’m still afraid. I’m still hurting. I still can’t quite figure out how to get “me” back, or whether that’s even possible. Maybe I’ll just be different? As if a part of me has died.

I am consoled by the pact I made, with myself. I will not do anything to remove myself from this fire I’m fighting, unless. Only I know what that unless is. I listened to another song, whose words spoke perfectly the way it can feel, sometimes. It says,

“There’s a house that’s on fire deep inside of my mind. I’ve been stuck in the wreckage. I was taught I should hide. There’s an open window. Smoke is getting high. It’s gonna tear me to pieces, being forced to decide. Do I jump like a failure? Let it burn me alive? Should I feel guilty for running out of time?”

I say none of this for sympathy or attention. My writing here is the one and only place I can be brutally honest, without consequence. I can’t share my personal truths anywhere else. Dr. Phil says our “personal truths” are what we tell ourselves, when we’re all alone with ourselves. When we take off the “social masks” we wear, in front of everyone else. When we’re forced to look at ourselves honestly and reveal all the ugliness we attempt to keep concealed. This is simply mine. It’s not pretty, or socially acceptable. It isn’t what I’m supposed to say or feel or think or do. So, I write about all of it, and then I go put back on my “mask”. I want nothing more than to get back to a place where I don’t feel required to hide my ugliest parts from even the people closest to me. For now, I suppose I’m just doing my best to “fake it til I make it”. I hate that all I can write about is this sorrow and utter despair I’m fighting with. I wish I could be saying, feeling, thinking almost anything else. This is me, authentically, though. I’ve said from the start, I write about my real life. The truth is, I do have people who want to be here for me. I just can’t seem to let most anybody else “in”, right now. I trust almost no one. I have faith in nearly nothing. Words of encouragement seem hollow. Stop telling me it’s going to be okay! Please, just acknowledge these things that are plainly obvious to me. It isn’t okay. This isn’t right. How in the fuck can you tell me to “look up” while I’m still falling? All I can hope for is to finally find the bottom. Only then, can I possibly even begin to contemplate climbing back up and out of this.

Believe it or not, this is me in a much better headspace than I was, just a few days ago. So, there’s that. I’m going to go put some clothes on. I’ll do my hair and makeup, and I’ll do my best to cover up all these things I’m not ready or willing to let the rest of the world see. I imagine they’d all recoil in horror, anyway.

I wanna make it out alive, never think about looking back
I wanna drive like hell when I steal the devil’s Cadillac
I wanna take that old Eldorado down a dirt road
With “How I Made it Over” playing on the radio

I wanna be solid as the earth and cool like the night air
I wanna believe even though I know life don’t play fair
I wanna wear my heart on my sleeve but be tough when I have to
I wanna dust off the stars and hang them on the wall for you

I wanna ask all the questions with answers we’ll never know
I wanna find my faith in records from long ago
I wanna set fear on fire and give dreaming a fair shot
And never give up whether anybody cares or not

~John Moreland

I’m about to get real honest, here…

Yesterday afternoon, I had to sit and compile a narrative of all the times Jackie has lied, betrayed me and my family, and been in legal trouble, in chronological order since I’ve known her. These are things I’ve long forgiven her for, but never forgotten either. Seeing them written down, forcing myself to acknowledge all the shit she’s done to hurt me, was painful as hell. I also feel like a total idiot. I believed I was smarter than this. I believed I wouldn’t tolerate anywhere near this much from someone. Somehow, I absolutely did, though. I loved Jackie. When I met her, she lived with her parents, inside a dysfunctional home. Dysfunctional would be an understatement. Her childhood was rife with traumatic events. I grew to love all of the good parts of her so much so, that I was willing to overlook the dangerous ones. I’m not simply referring to little quirks. I’m talking about some serious issues. Things she’s done, over the years, to sabotage my own happiness. Until yesterday, I hadn’t really sat with myself and considered why. Why would she do those things to me and my family? I believe Jackie needs to be needed. Although I can very much relate to that, I’ve never damaged someone just so I could be the one to repair it. I’ve never been envious of someone else’s joy. Certainly not someone I loved! I’m realizing the connection between the worst ways she’s hurt me, and when she’s chosen to do it. These things are done to me when I’m “too okay”. When my world is great. When there’s just no reason not to smile. What she fails to understand, is that my happiness doesn’t come at the expense of hers. I’ve never stopped her from finding her own path to the things she desires. In fact, I’ve literally done everything I possibly could to help her find it. I never held her failures over her head. I’ve never been cruel to her. I’ve been pissed off at her. I’ve told her exactly what I thought. I haven’t once uttered a sentence or acted in ways that the express purpose was to cause her pain. I’m still not going to actually describe the details of the things written down, yesterday. This isn’t about destroying Jackie. It’s about protecting myself and, most importantly, my family. I have no other choice, now. I have to bring out the ugliness that lies within these truths.

Last Friday, Jackie secretly recorded a conversation with me, where she intentionally provoked me. She said things that she was well aware would hurt me deeply. She was speaking so weird, and I couldn’t understand what the hell was happening?! Why was she saying these things to me? Why is she pretending not to already know the answers to these questions she’s asking? Why is she suddenly completely changing the opinions and the advice and the purpose of conversations we’ve shared so many times before? Why is she suggesting these blatantly false things about my husband and my children? Well, I get it now. She did it because she knew she was recording that conversation so she could share it with everyone else who matters to me, and torture me with it. As unbelievably shitty as that was, it’s what’s been done to my husband and children that’s unforgivable. I will never allow her back into our lives. The crazy part is, that still creates an ache inside my heart.

There’s a large divide, among the people around us. There are many who love and support Adam and me. There are those who are aware of previous incidents we’ve had with Jackie. And, there are some who seem to believe there’s truth to the spin that’s been put on her version of this story. While I’ll fully admit, there are pieces of her version that might not paint Adam and I in the best light, Jackie is very aware of the circumstances around those things. No one among us is capable of perfection in all things, at all times. She damn well knows our hearts, though. Despite this, she’s at least partially accomplished her goal to knock us down. And, it hurts.

But wait…there’s more.

I’m unable to share the “more”, yet. It’s a big and painful and horrendous “more”, though.

We’re trying to take one step at a time. One day at a time. One obstacle at a time. To solve the problems we can now. To prepare for the future possibilities. To let go of what can’t be changed or repaired or healed. There are times when I’m so overwhelmed, and it’s just too much for me. So much, I’ve considered completely removing myself from this unforgiving pain I’m inside. I won’t do it. There are moments when I do think about the relief that I could feel, just being certain that I wouldn’t have to spend one more minute like this. Could that maybe, just maybe, be a catalyst that rights some of these wrongs? Would the most important people to me be able to come together again? I’m not going to sugar coat my thoughts. They exist. Things have crossed my mind that I would never have imagined entering my thoughts, until now. Still, I won’t do it. Whether it’s selfishness or selflessness, I can’t quite be sure? I just know I need my husband and my children. I know that I couldn’t leave them all alone, and sentence them to even more pain, just so that I could escape it.

I’m loyal as fuck, to my people. Even I have a limit, though. So, goodbye Jackie. To my husband and my children,

Oh, we’re gonna find our way. Ohh, it’s gonna be okay, if we get through this moment…

~Claire Guerreso

I have to believe that.

If I could give this all back
I would be home in the morning
I’d wake up in a cold sweat
Take a flight back to the city I was born in
And I would wipe myself clean
Of what I knew was unimportant
I’d want typical things
I’d try to fit back into all my old clothing

And I would prove myself wrong
That all along, the problem was me
With all my bitterness gone
Happy, I’d be

I’ll move back home forever
I’ll feed the dogs
And I’ll put all my pieces back together
Where they belong, and I’ll say
“I’m a mess, I’m a mess, oh God, I’m a mess”

~Noah Kanan

I’m finding it so hard to write. How can I express only pieces of this pain I’m living inside. In time, I will be able to give every single detail, but I just can’t do it yet. I have to hold inside myself so many things. Things I’d normally have written extensively about already, if I only could. It isn’t that I don’t want to. Oh God, I so wish I could. My blog truly is my therapy. I’ve healed from so much pain, through simply “getting it out” in my writing.

There are a whole lot of layers, to this “shit cake”. It’s as if half a dozen or so of the most important people in my life have passed away, all at the same time. It’s not just Jackie. It’s much more than that. My children cry daily. I’ve seen my husband with tears down his face twice, in the last few days. He never even showed emotion like that when his dad died. Not in front of me, anyway. I’ve lost 5 pounds. I just can’t eat, and if I do, I can’t keep food in my stomach for long.

In spite of the tears and our troubles, my girls and I went shopping today. I took them to Culver’s, for lunch. We found some cute Summer clothes, and sandals. I think the kids are planning to get in the pool to swim, here soon. I cooked meatloaf, green bean casserole, mashed potatoes, and rolls for supper, last night. We did our best to enjoy a “normal” evening together. It was the first time I’ve fixed supper, this week. Every night, since Saturday, Adam has made love to me. We both so desperately need each other. I can’t seem to find sex pleasurable to my body, though. It does feel good for different reasons. Getting as close as a husband and wife physically can be. This emptiness I know we both constantly are feeling, is temporarily ignored. It’s just him and me. Nothing else matters for those minutes our naked bodies cling together.

I don’t know what happens next. I’m not even sure what tomorrow will look like. I’m typically such a neat freak. I like everything to be in its place. If things aren’t tidy, I’m able to put all the clutter back where it goes. I can’t do that, inside my head, though. It’s just…a mess.