Trials but I persevere, through hard work and drinkin’ beer
So I ain’t trying to hear that bullshit, bitch I’m workin’ here
It’s been a long day and I ain’t done yet
And all I know is come and get you some
I learned the hard way, I did it my way
But like they say, boy life goes on
~Adam Calhoun
I had a strange day at work, today. Not bad, just weird. Most days, we get a list of calls we need to make to certain customers. Occasionally, the phone number we have for them is wrong, but holy moly, I think half of my calls connected to businesses today! I started recording, just so I could prove it.
I closed up, and got home. It’s been mid 60’s outside since before Christmas, but a cold front blew in today. It’s cold out, now. I’ve got little smokies in the crockpot, and I made a veggie tray, a meat and cheese and cracker tray, and got lots of chips and dips/salsa for everyone to eat for supper. We’ve got friends coming over to hang out and play games. It’s New Year’s Eve. I hear lots of fireworks going off already. I’m off work tomorrow and Thursday, so I’m glad to have a little time at home.
I intend to do my best to keep this positive attitude going, tonight, so we can all have a little fun.
I know one day we’ll finally make it but right now it’s a struggle The bills piled up on the counter got us drowning in troubles Another bottle of red, for the anxiety and thoughts in my head No helping hands, everyone we loved left us for dead Feel like I’m dying in this living room Feel like I give all I can give Feel like I want to quit until I look at you Realize I live for you This broken heart, I’ll mend for you Don’t care how this story ends, long as it ends with you We’ll make it through, we’ll make it out, we’ll make it better way If I got you, I got no doubt that we’ll see better days I know it’s scary, but how we’re living’s just momentary Boy, I swear
One day we’ll dance in castles And right now won’t mean a thing When we break shackles Imagine life with no chains A thousand battles, a millions scars Broken arrows inside our hearts Pain’s a candle that’ll burn away So none of this’ll matter one day We’ll say it was you It was me A fairy tail no one believed It was you It was me One day the world’s gonna see us dancing in castles
So many problems I don’t know what to solve first A bottomless bottle is what I need ’cause it all hurts A bunch of empty promises from people, just all words Feel like I hit rock bottom, but yet some how I fall worse I’ve sent up a million prayers, but I feel like I’m not heard Supposed to be a man, but I feel like I’m not hers ‘Cause I can’t provide all things she deserves If I was her, I’d throw me to the curb But some reason she stays and loves me through the hard times Might not have much, but her love is all mine Right now we’re scared, how we’re living’s just momentary Girl, I swear
One day we’ll dance in castles And right now won’t mean a thing When we break shackles Imagine life with no chains A thousand battles, a millions scars Broken arrows inside our hearts Pain’s a candle that’ll burn away So none of this’ll matter one day We’ll say it was you It was me A fairy tail no one believed It was you It was me One day the whole world’s gonna see us dancing in castles
~Brabo Gator & Savannah Dexter
Truth be told, I don’t have to work. Adam makes more in one week than I do in a month. I don’t hate my job, but I do seriously miss my old one. Most importantly, I’m having a hard time knowing I’m not here for my girls like they need. Mj worries me so much. I’m afraid for her to be left alone here all day, while I’m at work. She’s hurting and feeling all the fear and uncertainty, the heartache and loss, that we are. I’m having an inner battle with myself about what to do. Adam is supportive of whatever decision I make. He’s encouraged me to quit my job, or to at least cut back, if that’s what I want. He assures me that he’s got us. He tells me all the things he misses from when I was at home, and how much he’s realized he’d taken for granted before. I think my greatest concern is that if I really did quit working, what if I just couldn’t be the wife and mama I used to be? What if they’re expecting for me to dance in the kitchen, while I’m baking something yummy, but there’s no music and I’m not able to dance anymore? I guess, in my mind, it’s less painful knowing I’m not taking care of them because I’m not home to, than to think of being home but still not there for them. I don’t know. This is just something I’ve been weighing on. I’ve actually been approached by some advertisers who’d like to buy ad space here on my blog. If I could continue to make the “fun money” I’ve been using on my kids, andbe here for them, that would be amazing! Still, my anxiety reminds me of all the what if scenarios that plague me anytime change of any sort is contemplated. So, I’m not quite sure yet what I’m going to do.
In my job interview, I described myself as an “introverted extrovert”. I enjoy talking with people, and challenging myself, but I reach a point where I need to be alone so I can recharge. It sort of exhausts me, if I can’t find the time I need to do that. I’m often so desperate for a little time to be alone with myself, where I don’t need to entertain anyone or be interrupted, I’ll find myself avoiding things I normally would’ve participated in with my family. If they’re playing a board game, or watching a movie, many evenings I simply don’t have the mental and emotional energy to join in. That leads me on a spiral of feeling guilty and ashamed, and then unable to get that rest and recharge I need, even if I am “hiding” alone downstairs.
Adam consistently does any and everything he possibly can to help me. I don’t know how he can be so strong and brave? How he manages to always be here for us, and never makes me feel like a burden. He’s unquestionably devoted to us, to me. I’ve no doubt whatsoever that his family, that I, am his priority number one. Somewhere within me remains a spark I’m fighting to ignite into the flames that once provided those same assurances about my devotion to my family, to him. One thing that hasn’t faltered for one single moment, is my burning desire to show my love for my family, so that they can always find the comfort from me they deserve. I sometimes wonder, why do they want me? What needs am I even meeting, for them? Why would anybody as good and pure and incredible as they are pour so much love onto me? I wish it were possible to know for certain which paths I should take. Which direction is right for my family, for me. I’m afraid there will come a day when their patience and grace for me run out. That I’ll make the wrong choices, or be unable to measure up, and end up completely alone.
I did some crafting, today. I made a Christmas countdown for my sister, because she mentioned wanting one. Then, I just played with some other ideas. I find it rewarding, to take these plain and bare things, and turn them into something beautiful.
Made a hot cocoa bar for the kids ❤️
I miss making my house feel like home. I miss the texts from Adam every evening, telling me he’s heading home, and already having supper cooking. I miss the smell of our clean home, after I had done the cleaning. I miss having scented candles burning. I miss the pride I always had, knowing I was taking care of my family.
The girl I used to be She was confident and free and happy I don’t recognize myself Or this person in the mirror Staring back at me
I’m fighting voices in my head Voices in my head telling me that I’m not enough I’m not pretty and I’m broken, I’m not worthy of love Voices in my head telling me that I should give up I’m fighting voices in my head
Words, they can cut so deep Why do I care so much what people think? I wonder who I’d be if I didn’t have insecurities I don’t know what to think, I’m losing all control of reality
Stop it, I can’t take another minute I’m going crazy with these voices that are spinning in my head Tell my head to listen to my heart And my heart says
I’m done with voices in my head Voices in my head, I know that I am enough I am pretty, I’m not broken, I am worthy of love Voices in my head I know that it’s time to give up With all these voices in my head
~Jana Kramer
This evening, I talked with a therapist.
I went to work, this morning. When I closed up, I drove home, and waited for Mikayla to finish getting ready. Her and I had made plans to go do a little shopping. We went to Victoria’s Secret. They’re having their semi annual sale, so that was fun.
I’d scheduled my appointment, days ago. I hadn’t decided for sure whether I’d actually attend. I showed up, though. He wound up spending over 20 minutes past our allotted time, with me. Honestly, he was pretty great. He wants to build on learning some version cognitive behavioral therapy skills as we go forward. He asked me to name 3 things that describe my “safe place”. I did, but for the sake of brutal honesty, I admitted my thought process that followed. But that’s gone. That place doesn’t exist anymore. I don’t exist, that way, anymore. It isn’t that I consciously just “decide” to have those thoughts. They’re the truth, as my mind tells it.
He also helped me to understand why I’m struggling so much to eat. I know it’s not normal or healthy, but I literally go days, sometimes weeks, without eating any real food. It isn’t at all because I’m concerned with my body image. I know I’m too thin. 84 pounds isn’t healthy. I’m almost never hungry. In fact, the very thought of eating usually repulses me. If I attempt to force myself, I instantly gag. The textures, the tastes. I may as well be trying to eat glass. He explained, when our bodies remain in “fight, flight, or freeze” mode for too long, our brains are so focused on that, our mechanisms that control and announce things as basic as hunger simply shut down. Our bodies are so focused on what we continue to perceive as imminent danger, the typical signals we’d be receiving just can’t get through. I like to at least understand why I’m feeling and doing the things I don’t seem able to control on my own. None of this will be magically cured, or fixed, just by knowing. It does at least give me comfort, that this isn’t all only because I’m too weak, or lack the willpower, to control and change on my own.
My “core beliefs”, or the things I tell myself, are things like I’m not worthy. I’m not enough. I don’t deserve to feel better. I’ve failed the people who mattered most. Not because I woke up one day and decided to feel these things. Because nothing else makes sense, to me. Why else would I be here, lonely and miserable? Betrayed and abandoned by so many of the people I loved the most.
I guess, I’m searching for the truth. If I’m not seeing something, show me. If I need to hear something, tell me. I’m looking for some direction. Which way is up? How do I begin to trust that to take even the smallest steps would be to move forward, and not wind up discovering I was once again, in fact, racing further backwards in my clumsy attempts to escape this awful place I’m in? Maybe I’m not good enough. But, is it possible to learn how to be? I used to think I was good, and aspire to be better. Great even. Now, I’d really like to be enough. To be able to give my family something besides these empty plates I keep serving them. It’s as if I’m doing everything I know how to feed my family’s hunger for the things I once was able to so readily serve them. Or, believed I was. No matter what I do, the plates come up empty, though. All I can give them is…nothing. I want more than anything to have something good and right to give to them. I don’t want someone else to do it for me. I want to learn how to do it myself, for them. I will admit, somewhere inside, I’m craving for the deliciousness that life once was for me. First, I need to know my family is fed. Then, I might be able to contemplate how I could satisfy that hunger that still remains deep within me.
I know this journey will be a long one. Fraught with difficult and painful roads I’m going to have to travel through. Mountains and valleys that will require a strength I’m not yet convinced I’ll be able to muster. I do believe I took the first step, tonight. That’s not nothing.
Court is in session, a verdict is in No appeal on the docket today just my own sin The walls cold and pale, the cage made of steel Screams fill the room, alone I drop and kneel Silence now the sound, my breath the only motion around Demons cluttering around, my face showing no emotion Shackled by my sentence, expecting no return Here there is no penance, my skin begins to burn
So I held my head up high Hiding hate that burns inside Which only fuels their selfish pride All held captive out from the sun A sun that shines on only some We the meek are all in one
I hear a thunder in the distance, see a vision of a cross I feel the pain that was given on that sad day of loss A lion roars in the darkness, only he holds the key A light to free me from my burden and grant me life eternally
I cry out to God, seeking only His decision Gabriel stand and confirms, I’ve created my own prison
Should have been dead on a Sunday morning, banging my head No time for mourning Ain’t got no time
~Creed
About 16 and a half years ago, I met my husband, Adam. What I’ve never said here, is that I also met his infant son, Wyatt. He was just 8 months old. Wyatt’s birth mom abused drugs and alcohol, even during her pregnancy. Adam and I alone have raised him. His birth mom has spent the entirety of Wyatt’s childhood giving birth to babies who’d also be raised by other people, while she bounced between crack houses and halfway houses, never really giving up the junk she insisted on putting in her body. I made every birthday cake, gave him his first haircut, and took him to his first days of school. I keep a lock of the blonde curls from his first haircut and his first lost baby tooth inside my hope chest, alongside my girls childhood memories I hung onto. I loved him always. As fiercely as I ever loved my girls. Wyatt is 17 years old now. He has consistently made choices that have spiraled into a chaos that is beyond our abilities to manage. He has an enormous sense of entitlement, and his arrogance is astonishing. I chose never to write about how unbelievably cruel and violent he had become, most especially toward his sisters. I literally couldn’t trust him alone in the pool with Mj, because I was truly afraid he could drown her. The harder we fought to save him, the more he dug his heels in. Unbeknownst to us, he spent the better part of a year planning and preparing to set us up, so that he would no longer have to deal with Adam and I preventing (or attempting to) his fall from the cliff he insisted on dangling from. He was abusing substances. He was sleeping around, having unprotected sex. He was stealing, cheating, fighting. For him, lies were much more beneficial than truth, and his lies are a big reason for the turmoil we’re grappling with now.
Jackie was very well aware, and both Adam and I often had confided in her and Justin. We were desperate for answers. For some ideas of what to do, where to go, how to get a grip on this. I don’t know if it was alcohol? Our mutual friends tell me it was motivated by jealousy. Whatever the reason, one night in May, Jackie chose to not just claim to suddenly believe his lies, but she chose to encourage them. To reinforce them. And finally, to use them to attempt some sort of fucked up coup in an effort to oust me from my own family. She secretly recorded a conversation she initiated with me, as she accused and blamed and shamed me, all while knowing the answers behind every “question” she asked. After I had shared all I ever had with her. My family. My babies. My fears, my struggles, my secrets…It didn’t work as she must’ve anticipated, except for a small minority of people who were willing and eager to just accept the bullshit being fed to them. That the fiction being told was even plausible for anyone who knew me just devastated me. I guess I’m numb over it now, though. That, or my heart’s already broken into so many pieces, it’s impossible to notice which ones once fit together so easily.
I may have already said more than I should, but I needed to say it tonight.
Wyatt isn’t coming home. Jackie and Justin, Adam and I, will never be friends. It’s not about forgiveness. It’s about protecting the precious few good things left over from this storm we never ever could’ve saw coming. Maybe we should have? But, we didn’t. And now, we’re all doing what we can to make our “prison” feel like home. I really don’t want to hear any opinions or suggestions about how or why we should be doing more, have done more, for Wyatt. I haven’t even scratched the surface here, really. We cannot continue to be fuel for his ego driven trip to a hell we are powerless to prevent. All we are capable of is watching and waiting. Clinging to the tiny strands of hope we managed to hang onto, and praying that maybe just maybe, one day. One day, he will make the choice to do better. To be better. And, the moment that happens, of course we would do everything possible to support him. It simply isn’t up to us, now.
This has been the most painful experience of my life, and it isn’t over. Even without the parts Jackie contributed, I’d have still needed my best friend more than ever. Instead, I found out I just wasn’t worth what I believed I was.
This is my pain. The wreckage I live inside, every second of everyday. This is the truth. This is who, what, why, and where I am today.
A crowded room, friends with tired eyes I’m hiding from you and your soul of ice My God, I thought you were someone to rely on Me? I guess I was a shoulder to cry on
ll give it to someone, I’ll give it to someone special Who give me something in return Hold my heart and watch it burn I’ll give it to someone, I’ll give it to someone special I thought you were here to stay How could you love me for a day? I thought you were someone special I gave you my heart I’ll give it to someone, I’ll give it to someone
~Wham!
My birthday is exactly two weeks before Christmas. I had that day off, and spent it at home. I did some crafting, some baking, some cleaning, and I made a really yummy supper for my family. The following weekend, Adam and I took the kids out to eat, and “celebrated” my birthday. As for birthday wishes, I had only one. Though I can’t see it, don’t know where to look, or really even believe it’s possible anymore, God all I hope for is to find pure joy in my family’s eyes again. Looking at those I loved most in this world, and seeing genuine happiness reflecting off them, was always the source of my own joy. Believing without question that I’d done something right, and that contributed to the comfort and peace shone in the laughter that once filled every corner inside our home. I stare into the eyes of those left beside me, and their pain permeates. I see them doing their very best to smile for me, for each other, but even the occasional moment of spontaneous laughter is still soaked in hurt and grief. We all feel it. We all see it in each other’s faces. I just don’t know how to give them these things we all so desperately need and want. The new televisions, Apple Watches, iPhones, and all the other crap I carefully picked out and wrapped up for them simply can’t fill the emptiness inside any of us. I’ve spent the last seven months pleading with God, heal these wounds! It seems that prayer isn’t meant to be answered. Not yet, anyhow. As these days turned into weeks, and then months that will soon be an entire year, my faith He’ll hear me is dwindling. I wonder, why? What did I do so entirely wrong that this punishment is making everyone close to me bleed? I replay every mistake, misstep, and bad decision I’ve made and I wonder, is this the reason?
My sweet Mj is struggling. I don’t know how to make it better for her. She’s damn near unrecognizable. Her temper is short. Her tears come easily. Her laughter is increasingly more and more rare. I feel tremendous guilt, and partly because I know I’m not here for her like she deserves. I’m not here when she comes home from school. I’m not here when she doesn’t feel well. I’m not there for all her concerts and parties. Besides that, I’m not around emotionally, either. It’s just not possible to pour from a cup that’s bone dry. On some level I’m hyper aware of this, and it stands to reason I should be doing everything I can to fill my empty cup, so I could pour out something for my family again. It also seems selfish and wholly undeserved, to consider doing so. Why should I be allowed to feel better, when it’s me who’s to blame for giant pieces of this damage? If I caused this, or even contributed, it’s ridiculous to assume there should be anything other than what is.
I lost a friend Like keys in a sofa Like a wallet in the backseat Like ice in the summer heat
I lost a friend Like sleep on a red-eye Like money on a bad bet Like time worrying about every bad thing that hasn’t happened yet
I know I’ll be alright But I’m not tonight I’ll be lying awake counting all the mistakes I’ve made Replaying fights I know I’ll be alright But I’m not tonight
I lost a friend I lost a friend I lost my mind And nobody believes me Say, “I know that [she] don’t need me, ‘Cause [she] made a little too much money to be twenty and sad.” And I’ll be fine without [her] But all I do is write about ’em How the hell did I lose a friend I never had? Never had
I’m on the mend Like I’m wearing a neck brace Like I’m sleeping in my own place Like I’m pulling all the stitches out of my own face
I’m on the mend Like I’m icing a new sprain Like I’m walking on a new cane Like it’s been a couple days since I slipped and said something sorta like your name
I know I’ll be alright But I’m not tonight I’ll be lying awake counting all the mistakes I’ve made Replaying fights I know I’ll be alright But I’m not tonight
I’m on the mend But I lost a friend I lost my mind And nobody believes me Say, “I know that [she] don’t need me, ‘Cause [she] made a little too much money to be twenty and sad.” And I’ll be fine without [her] But all I do is write about ’em How the hell did I lose a friend I never had?
I’d apologize If I thought it might Make a difference Or make you listen I’d apologize If it was black and white But life is different Just try to listen To me now
I know I’ll be alright But I’m not tonight I lost a friend
How the hell did I lose a friend I never had?
Never had
~Finneas
I’m down in my basement, surrounded by gifts I need to finish wrapping before Christmas. Every single part of everything I do by myself now leaves me with this empty and hopeless feeling. I ache as I look at pictures of my family when we were all happy. When life was simple, smiles weren’t forced, and happiness was a given. The holidays are hard, now. I’m not wrapping gifts for people I should be. I don’t hear the sounds of laughter around me, as I plan and prepare everything for Christmas. There’s no pictures being taken with genuine grinning faces of those that I love. It hurts real bad. I’m trying so fucking hard, too. I want to be me again. I want to see my husband and children filled with joy. I feel as if… Actually, scratch that. I know I’ve failed my babies spectacularly. They will forever be haunted by pain and trauma that leaves them spending their adult lives desperately trying to heal. My greatest goal was to give them a childhood they would never have to recover from. I always wanted so much to give them a home and family filled with love and memories of an amazing time growing up with people that never let them down. So much of what’s happened to them is because of me. While I can’t control anyone else’s actions, it was me who made the choice to allow people into my children’s lives. It is a serious mind fuck realizing how much of my family’s pain is my fault. How much of my own pain is caused by my inability to protect not only myself, but most especially my family, from the very same things I wasn’t protected from. I can’t rewind or undo anything, although I spend a lot of my time replaying things and wonder sometimes, if I could, how far back would I actually need to go? What could I have changed? What should I have done differently, exactly? As wrong as I was, I didn’t ever mean to be! I never intended to land here, or to have brought the people who trusted me down right alongside me. All I wish for now, is to know how to be the person my family deserves, and to give them at least something good and right. I don’t trust myself, though. It’s almost as if this whole time I believed that down was up, backward was forward, good was bad. And if that’s the case, is wrong right? Would hurting help? So, if that’s the best things for them, how do I do that? Maybe it’s me? What if the only consistent thing that underlies every one of their heartaches is…me?
I bought an obscene amount of gifts for my family, this year. I understand I’m trying to fill voids that won’t ever be replaced with expensive new things, but I do it anyway. I haven’t seen my husband or my babies truly content and “whole”, in as long as I myself have been broken into these tiny unrecognizable pieces. Everyday I fight to suppress the voice inside my head whispering, I’m miserable. I’m miserable to be around. I’m worthless. I’m a failure. I’m not a good person. If I almost forget these things for even a moment, and I almost begin to allow myself to find the smallest amount of hope, the voices in my head echo with urgency these “affirmations” of things I must remember so that I could maybe avoid letting my family down again. I want more than anything to contribute something positive. Positive for my family, and for everyone. I honestly believed I was capable of changing the world. I never cared to have my name or my face remembered, but that I could impact others in even the smallest ways, and that would create a chain of events that made the world a better place because I had been here. I was a narcissistic moron, to have thought I was actually that special. That important. I’m left with sort of an existential crisis, wondering where I belong. My intentions matter little, when my children are paying the price for my choices. However well intended, I was a fool. I made mistakes I fear one day they’ll all realize, and understand I am to blame for. I’m responsible for these consequences they have and will spend their lives paying for. I pray they can heal, and find their own paths that lead to something much better for them. I pray they can forgive me, when they learn how miserably I’ve failed them. The job I cared most about, that I put all the best of me into, was being a wife and mama. My best was not even close to good enough, though. For Christ sake, how many people had to leave me before I realized that?
I want to go home. I miss even people and things that are still here. Nothing’s like it was. None of us are who we used to be. It’s like we’re all strangers just existing alongside each other everyday. Pretending to be the people we were as much as possible, but fooling no one. I want to be a wife again. A mom again. A daughter, sister, friend. I want to live, not just exist. I have absolutely no idea how to do that, though. I want my life back. I want me back. I want my family to look and feel like mine. I want to belong. I want to matter. I want to believe it’s possible. To be able to see some sort of road map that might guide me towards finding my way back home. I’m not sure that place even exists anymore? My entire being yearns for the comfort that never failed to embrace me inside my favorite places, with my favorite people.
Chronicles in Submission 