Sign in to follow this  
Followers 0
  • entries
  • comments
  • views

Entries in this blog


I'm not heartbroken. I'm not spending my days crying. I am fine and will continue to be fine, but I'm mad.


I can't STOP being mad because now I know I doubted myself when I shouldn't have. YOU made me doubt myself when I should have trusted my instinct that there was something going on.

Shame on me for letting you in. Shame on me for not keeping my eyes open and my head clear. Shame on me for expecting you to treat me the same way I did you. But worst of all, shame on me for not trusting myself when I started to notice things not right. I wanted SO BADLY to believe that I was different to you than anyone else you had lied to, cheated on, mistreated, or tossed aside. But now I know, I wasn't.

Now I know. And it stings. Not the unbearable sharp, sting of rubbing alcohol being poured on a fresh cut. More like a slow, seething burn that you don't notice until it's too late, like a sunburn. The kind that keeps you in discomfort, close to agony, for days afterwards because you didn't trust your instinct and put on some goddamn sunscreen, even though you knew better. I knew better, but I trusted you, I have been bit, one, two, three too many times. I

It still didn't stop me from being seduced by you. Or stop me from thinking you would see me as different, any more, than anyone else you had wronged. It didn't stop me from giving you trust you didn't earn and didn't use well.

I'm still mad. I see now, because I was stupid enough to keep checking on you, that you are happy and may very well have found exactly what you are looking for, and with the one that I'm so fucking angry about. And believe me or not, there is a small piece of me that hopes so and is happy for you. But there is a bigger piece that wonders how long until you screw this up too, because theres a bitter side of me that is betting against you.


Ani Difranco Says...
"I used to be a superhero
No one could touch me
Not even myself
You are like a phone booth
That I somehow stumbled into
And now look at me
I am just like everybody else"
You were my phone booth. You were what made me forget to treat my feelings with respect and keep my eyes open to those who would do me harm, like I have diligently done for years now. And you took advantage of my vulnerability and now I'm mad at you. Furious. Resentful. Enraged.
I blocked you from facebook, not because I care what you see, because I can't get mad about what I don't see if I block myself from seeing it. Another shame on me, I knew better than to keep checking in on you. But I did it anyways.
As a result I will deal with another few days of anger before I can get back on the path of healing. A little more damaged, a little wiser, and a little stronger.

So last Sunday my ignoring my mental health caught up to me. I had a minor meltdown that started at work, then continued and only got worse. By Sunday evening I was still there texting my boss asking for Monday off, then by Tuesday night I was texting him telling him I needed any time off in the next week that he could spare. When I spoke with him Tuesday on the phone he gave me ALL WEEK off and didn't put me back on until the next Wed (tomorrow). I spent most of early last week either high on Anti Anxiety pills or sleeping. It ended up being a pretty major meltdown. By Friday I was able to go a whole day without any meds and by Saturday night I had made up my mind to quit my job. My husband has been encouraging me to do so for a few months. Things are good at his job. It's not that I don't need to work, I do, and I will. Just not  full time right now. Or in management, which is causing me so much stress I can't reset on my own. I'm not one of those people who can leave her work at work and my son and my husband have paid the price for it. The Christmas season in retail almost killed me, and I was so busy with my new at the time girlfriend that I just kept pulling energy I didn't have out of somewhere and I think it finally caught up with me this past week. Surely our breakup  didn't help, but it wasn't the cause. This was a long time coming anyways.

Saturday I had had a float (sensory deprivation tank) and a massage scheduled for some time. I had very much been looking forward to it and by now I needed it. The hubs decided to book a couples massage, and it was wonderful to be able to take a couple hours off and reminding myself that it's okay and life should be fun too, not just stress, all the damn time. By Sunday morning I knew I was going to quit, but was going to discuss it with my boss on Monday, even though I didn't return until Wednesday. Well I ended up having a conversation with him on Sunday and told him I was quitting. He must have assumed I woulnd't have been able to give him a notice, he seemed very surprised when i said I was going to do my best to work a week or two, whatever he needed. He asked me to finish the week through Sunday, then called me toady and said he only really needed me tomorrow and Saturday. He's trying hard to make sure I know he cares and is trying to do what is best for me, and that he is not as concerned about the store. On top of all that, he told me he intends to pay me every bit of paid personal, sick, and vacation time I have saved up before he terminates me in the system. Once again,  got off the phone in tears.

Tomorrow is my first day back after 10 days off and only 1 of 2 days I have left of work. I have no idea who knows if and when I'm leaving and who doesn't. I'm not looking forward to this. I can't wait to be done so I can unwind completely. Let the job go, let the effort go, let the emotions go (it's where I met her), and let the stress go. I think I'm going to go back to a season merchandising job I worked for a local nursery. No boss on site, very flexible hours, outside summer work so free tan, and I get to play with plants all day. Win win win win.


We spoke again. Several times, for almost 2 days actually. There seems to have been a lot of talking, but I can't make sense of what was said. One moment we were telling each other what had happened to fill in some blanks, she told me why she did what she did I told her why ut may have seemed like I as upset about one thing when I had been upset about another. I'm not saying I thought we were going to reconcile, I just thought that maybe we were still trying to be friends?? Maybe, I don't know. All along, from the beginning, I thought on top of the fun we were having we were building a friendship, something that even after the sex wasn't going to be an option anymore, that I would still have some of her time and attention. That I woudl still get to share my time and attention with her. But it fell apart. Instead of trying to talk about what happened, or why we were both hurt, she starts talking about how relieved my husband must be that it's over. Told me she felt judged by him. I just could not have been more devastated the longer we tried to talk it out.She was saying things that were breaking my heart. She lied because she thought I woudl judge her?? She felt judged by my husband?? Where had I gone wrong?? What had I said to her, or not said to her, to give her any reason to believe that was happening, to feel like that? But she wouldn't, or couldn't, tell me. So we spent some time talking through what we could, and I thought it was our way of walking ourselves to a peaceful resolution. A way to walk away with more than anger and pain. I told her I would leave her alone, I tried. But she sent me a message both mornings after I told her I would leave her alone. By day two when she sent one I was so confused. She actually asked me if "Anyone else I've talked to thinks you're being a little harsh on me" with a little smirk face emoji. I started to feel like this was a joke to her, that she was continuing to contact me because she didn't believe she had actually done something that broke trust and believed once I cooled down, I would reconsider. She actually used the word reconsider. She wasn't understanding that I felt betrayed, even though I had said it very clearly. She viewed it as a mistake, an accident. When I actually addressed the idea of reconciliation with shock, something must have clicked, whether it was the right thing or not. But she responded a few more times with cold statements about how life's a bitch and mistakes happen and I'd never hear from her again. And she's been true to her word, I have not heard from her since. My husband is upset, naturally, because he's watching me be upset and it hurts him. I've tried to explain to him that I'm also mourning the loss of the friendship I thought I was building. I don't usually let people into my life, and I can't remember someone who got as much of my time and energy as she did.


As an added bonus, I am having a mental breakdown. While this particular chain of events is certainly contributing to it, it's not the reason and this has been a few months coming and I jave ignored the warning signs. Now depression is winning. I've been home, in bed, for 5 days. I abruptly took a week and a half off, fucking my employer at a terrible time, because I just couldn't face it. I've seen one Dr and have to go see another. I'm suffering, I'm feeling self destructive, I recognize that I've taken on too much. When I took the full time management position I needed the income, the stability. I thought I could do it and my depression and anxiety were controlled and had been for some time, without medication. The pressure has gotten to me and I'm starting to realize the personal cost of keeping the job. My husband now has very good, stable income. My hours mean that I work hours that have me leaving my son home alone to get off the bus, while I work a job I hate. Every week when i sit down to pay the bills and look at how he makes, literally, double what I do it reminds me that it's not important that I keep THIS job, the one that has stretched me too thin. I have worked years to find the delicate balance needed for me to stay i control of my depression and anxiety and I think this job hurt me. It requires so much of my good energy, so much of my positive attitude, that I give it all at work and when i come home, I'm spent. I'm exhausted, and the ones I love aren't getting what they deserve. It's not worth it anymore. I have begun to believe that I am left with two options to choose from. I can go back on an anti-depressant, shut everything down, and keep the job. I can do that, it would work. Or I can quit, align myself again on my own, not have to go on meds I DON'T want to take anyways, and find a job that makes me happy with much less pressure.


I'm so confused.


Once again life has taken an unexpected turn. I don't know why I'm still surprised by them, I should just expect disaster. Maybe it's me. It's probably me. At the end of the day I'd be lying if I said she was the first to tell me I just couldn't be happy.


This girl, this woman....she pursued me. I'm married and had a curiosity, an inkling, that I might be bi. I had pursued once or twice the possibility of an experience, but gave up. I was married, well into my 30's, I had nothing to offer. Could make no commitment, couldn't be too "out" for fear some people may find out. I just had given up any thought that I'd find the right circumstances under which this would even make any sense, and I kind of gave up the search. No big deal, I wasn't really pushing it, and to be honest, I was scared. Really, really scared.


Well this girl came along, and we hit it off. I don't mean in the way of "this might be a chance for an experiment". More like "I want this girl. HER. I WANT HER" One thing led to another, to another, to another and next thing i know I'm asking my husband if I can go sleep with this girl. And I did and it was wonderful. I think even then I wanted to believe it was just sex, I thought it was. It felt like it. We slept together a couple times, then progressed to threesomes with my husband sometimes. It was all really fun, great, and exciting. But there were red flags and I think I just ignored them because the situation seemed so perfect and I was having fun. I just...over looked things that I normally wouldn't. Two major examples come to mind. Before our first threesome with my husband, she made some joke about sending him some pictures and I laughed and said go ahead and gave her his number. We proceeded to start a three way text conversation that was quite fun, in anticipation of our big night coming up. She swore up and down that she would never text him without my knowledge or permission, and I wasn't worried about it. I believed her. But a few weeks later, she did just that. She texted him under the circumstances of trying to set up a surprise threesome for me...but it still just sat in my stomach wrong. Hadn't she said she wouldn't do that? I left that red flag in the rear view mirror and moved on. I was trying not to let my old, nagging, anxiety ridden self rear her ugly head.

There were other times I felt...uneasy about things. Times when i felt like she maybe wasn't telling me everything. But there really wasn't a need for her too. We called each other "girlfriends" but any other time when she talked about trying to find a guy for a FWB, she would refer to herself as single. It bothered me, but I couldn't figure out why. Why should I care if she called herself single? But why would she call me her girlfriend if she FELT single? It did cause some confusion, but I didn't feel the need to clear it up. I didn't realize, until later, that it bothered me because listening to her say she was "single" minimized what I was to her in my mind. Again, I pushed those feelings out. This was uncharted territory and surely I was over reacting about something that most people wouldn't care about.

There were even times when a girl from her past would contact her and ask about getting together, for sexual encounters, and I told her "Do you". I made it clear that if that what she wanted, to feel free. She owned me nothing, there was no obligation to me, after all I was married. How could I expect anything from her? But she told me no, that I met her needs for a woman and she wasn't interested in sex with other woman. But a week ago she admitted to me, and when I say admitted I mean she seemed reluctant to tell me at all and didn't until days after it had happened, that she had slept with another friend of hers and her boyfriend. I tried to stay cool, because what right did I have to be upset, I knew she was looking for a guy FWB and I had told her she was welcome to sleep with other women. But she had let me set the expectation in my mind that she wouldn't, so I was hurt and jealous when she slept with her friend. But again, that red flag was easily pushed aside as I told myself it didn't matter, reminded myself she considered herself single, no matter how often she called herself my girlfriend. What she did on her time was hers. I didn't judge her, I shouldn't care, and I made a conscious effort to not let it bother me, even though it did. And it did not help that in the week following her and that friend spent an increase in time together, and that was what led to the lie that broke it all. I went from hearing from her almost all day every day, in constant contact, to nothing for almost 2 whole days while she was with this other girl. Not something that bothered me that much, until I was lied to about it.

These things were not enough for me to say anything, to need to process these nagging feelings I was getting. I still blindly looked at how much fun I was having, how much I enjoyed her company and attention, and her body. I knew it would have to come to an end, nothing lasts forever and the situation had never been ideal. We had both worked hard to make it work, and I thought in a mutual way, but now I'm not so sure. But I hadn't expected what happened. Her actions, my reactions, and the aftermath that resulted. I am not innocent, nor is she. But now we are left back to back, strangers with memories, with rubble around us to walk over to start again. And no salvageable friendship. 

She lied to me. Yes, it was only a small lie. But I knew the moment she started to lie to me (About something so stupid, so small I just can't even figure out why it would have been worth it even if she had gotten away with the lie) and I realized I was asking questions as if she owed me answers, and I said "never mind, it's not my business". But she kept going and lied. And in one second, I was broken. What had I done to make her believe that was necessary? I had never judged her action, never once said anything about choices she made that I would not have. I even gave her an out to NOT lie by just keeping to herself, after all, it was NOT my business. But lied to I was and all of a sudden a lot of it came back. The anger over her texting my husband when she said she wouldn't. Her telling me she wasn't going to sleep with other women, and then did. Lots of other times I had a nagging feeling she wasn't being entirely truthful with me, but I had no right to expect her to I suppose. I just...assume that the respect between us was mutual and enough that I could expect her to be open and honest with me. I was honest with her, even when I knew she wouldn't like what I had to say.

So when I instantly snapped and started in on her (I'm not a very nice person when I'm mad. Not even a little bit) I got very, very nasty. But when we did finally have a chance to talk, under calmer circumstances the next day, she started in by insisting it had been a waste of time all along because there was never anywhere in my life for her and that I deserved better. I felt immediately incensed that rather than answer me about why she would feel the need to lie this was going to be a pity party about why "we" would never have worked anyways. But I had already sacrificed so much to make it work! I wanted to continue with her. I helped her, almost every time she requested my time, or to come to my martial bed, she was welcomed. I gave her time, my husband gave her his time. Our sons played together even. I checked with her often I though, was she happy? Did she feel used? What could I do to help her? I may not have been able to offer a lifetime, a home, a marriage, but I offered her time, kindness, my heart. I trusted her. Even one little white lie was enough to crumble all the rest that I had overlooked and made me feel like I was being naive.

I handled it badly. I let anger rule and I said things I shoudln't have. But my trust had been used and I honestly at this point didn't know how often, but I knew it had. I won't apologize for protecting myself. I gave everything I could and if it still wasn't enough for her to be happy about it then, it would never have been. I coudln't fill her every need and I told her that. She didn't expect me to. My marriage was the priority up front and she knew and agreed. But all I needed was trust. All I needed to know was that I had not given you a reason to lie to me, to believe that I woudln't do everything in my power to support your decisions, even if I didn't agree with them. That tiny little white lie exposed the cracks with which an individual is comfortable slipping things through to retain peace, instead of dealing with consequences of decisions. I can't support it and I won't allow myself to be subjected to it.


I don't know if she will ever read this. She knew shybi was more of my safe place, she may never visit the site again. I am so sorry for how things happened. I'm not the angry, selfish, unforgiving person I acted like and was accused of being. I had a moment of anger that won and it was because my heart was more involved than it was ever supposed to be. In one second, with just a few words on a note, every single, tiny bit of anger in my system has melted into sorrow and the sobs keep coming. I must be close to draining my body of energy soon. With what energy I do have left and tears running down my face, I'm wishing as hard as possible, that she will somehow, miraculously, remember me well after the dust settles, because I know I will her. I already miss her.






So today was not a good day for me. I am struggling, and struggling hard. Since my surgery back on June my one ovary has been doing a great job keeping up with the need for hormones in my body, but I've got a feeling she's not doing so well any longer on her own. This will be my second cycle since June that I've been late on, and I'm about 4 days late now. But I've noticed that Pmsing is significantly worse than before. I have reason to believe that even before my missing hormones I suffered from PMDD, not PMS. I still believe that PMDD is a very real diagnosis I could be given if I cared to go get one, but I really don't. Either way, the time between my period is supposed to start (my normal 24-30 day cycle) and when it does, is turning into a personal hell for me. I've been so proud of myself for getting some serious control over my mental health in the last couple years, taking it into my own hands and actually paying attention to myself and my needs, a lot of self care has been involved and it's extremely difficult to not consider myself very selfish for needing, and giving myself, whatever I need. I'm getting much easier to deal with, much more in tune to my feelings and why I'm having them instead of just unexplained doubt or fear or anger. When I say the things I'm about to say, please be aware that I am NOT in any immediate danger, I do not intend to take any actions. I'm in need of a safe place and a constructive way to admit some of what is going on in my head, in hopes that I can release some of it and get some much needed relief. I know the second my period starts this will all fly away swiftly, but it's fucking killing me in the mean time an I'm coming to terms with the fact that this will likely be a recurring event I need to get a handle on, or resign myself to going to see a dr and being put on medication, likely hormones, which I do NOT want to do.


Among the self care I do, I have some coping mechanisms for when my anxiety gets too high for me to feel in control of any longer. Not every one of my mechanisms is healthy, but I am careful and they work for me. I want to chuck every coping mechanism out the window and kill myself. I'm SICK AND FUCKING TIRED of feeling like it would just be easier to be dead. I've only been feeling this way for about 36 hours now and I KNOW it's hormones, but it doesn't stop me from wanting relief and my mind is focused on only one way to get it. I'm angry, I'm sad, I want to be alone. I can't explain the depth of the way I feel, my fucking skin ITCHES with the need to get some control over myself that is so far beyond my reach that I can't even fucking see it anymore. I'm scared, I'm tired, I'm anxious, I'm depressed, and I can't get control of any of it. I had been doing SO GOOD staying in control, but these fucking hormones are KILLING me! Everything is out of my control. I can't control when I cry, how I treat people, when or how rapidly my moods shift.


I'm just unloading some crap in hopes that I can make sense of it. I am playing the worst waiting game of my life, waiting for my period to start so I can feel human again and not like the wicked witch of hell. I CAN control this, I WILL be just fine. I AM capable of beating depression. I just don't feel like it at the moment.





The last 6 months of my life have been very, very busy for me. I see from my last entry that life has changed more than I had anticipated but it was all necessary changes and most for the better.


The surgery went well, everything was fine. I returned to work with no problems and have had no issues since. I have only one ovary now and no tubes, so I still have periods (UG) and so far the one ovary has been enough to keep my body supplied with hormones. My period last month was the first since the surgery that wasn't exactly on time. When I was a young girl, before I went on birth control at 17, my periods were always erratic and unpredictable. I suppose there is a chance that after all these years I would go back to that. I'm late now, but not worried. Everything is working fine. I am noticing more about things probably affected by hormones, in addition to other things, that I am addressing as they come. I have less of a need to cry so often. I still need to, but I don't cry so easily either. I have found a little bit of confidence in my job and am finding it a little easier to stand up and do what needs to be done, instead of being worried how people will feel about working with me. I'm finding that having a regular, dependable schedule that guarantees me one day a week home alone is required to keep my mental health in check and that I have suffered not having it during this busy holiday season. This is the first retail job I have worked in management, and the first I've worked during the Christmas season in many years. I am very, very exhausted and my mental health is in need of some time and repair. I'm also finding myself much less apologetic about needing this time, it just is. I can't control it and I won't try.


Our home situation has changed, we are now living in what was my mother in laws house. It's not far from where we were, so we could keep our son in the school he loves. But we don't love the township, the board members, or the police. None of them did what they said they would do. No one cared that my husband, son, and I were harassed and traumatized. These people weren't just assholes, I don't even have words to describe. I kept telling myself that they were obviously unhappy with their own lives and decided to spew their unhappiness on us because it was convenient. I'm slightly concerned because at my work a situation came up that I ended up renting to someone I work with. I'm concerned for a number of obvious reasons, and there is a small part of me that believes those neighbors will be so eager to prove that WE were the problem they won't be assholes to anyone else. I do worry though, I don't want the neighbors over there to find out I work with her, I'm afraid it will cause them to start their shit again. I am finally, finally, after 18 months of this mess, starting to heal. I'm broken by the township, the lack of care, the police who didn't do anything for us. My heart still needs healing. But I'm not afraid to drive by my own house anymore. I don't take a different route home in fear that these people are trying to find me. Progress has been slow, but I think the longer this other girl lives there and doesn't have an issue, the faster the healing will go. It's also nice to have someone renting the place, because even though I'm not making what I could off of it, at least the payment is covered. We can focus on making payments here we actually live and stop taking advantage of my mother in laws kindness and willingness to help. We will be tearing out the bathroom soon, hopefully.


I say hopefully because my husband has found work and it's been a good job, however he works a LOT of hours. We don't see each other often and even when we happen to have time home together during the week, he's either eating, showering, or sleeping. Poor man, The job he found is an hours drive away, and his alarm goes off at 4:20 every morning. He's working somewhere between 60-70 hours a week some weeks. It's also outdoors work. In Michigan. It's frigid out right now, our highs are in the single digits. Usually this weather comes in February, which makes me think we'll get round 2 then. But for now, he's cold and tired. No working in the house yet. My mother in law is happy in her new place, and I just realized this week that I get to start planning my vegetable garden again, for the first time in over 2 years. It will be such a huge help to my mental health to have a garden again, I miss it so much. It's been too long and I'm losing my love for plants and I hate it. I can't wait until I can go outside and weed the veggies, smell the tomato plants, track the progress of the zucchini. I am outrageously excited to have a garden again. It's almost embarrassing. We've also found out that as a perk of being a supervisor at his new job, my husband can borrow pontoon boats from the lot over the summer. Even if that only means once, it's a chance we wouldn't have otherwise! So we are looking forward to that as well.


Progress, progress. Changes. Forward movement. Things are happening. Live life or let it happen to you. It's your choice.


Today is the last day of my medical break after surgery. It's officially been 6 weeks since I was sliced open and I am considered fully healed. I feel good and am ready to return to work. With everything going on with these stupid neighbors, I'm actually looking forward to going back to work. I'm hoping that when I'm not in my home, feeling trapped, all day maybe i can STOP thinking about these stupid people and this fucked up situation, even for just a few hours a day.

Speaking of neighbors and this stupid situation...I think we have a long term solution figured out and things are moving forward. My mother in law is getting up there in age and owns her home, just a mile down the road from mine. It's a 3 bedroom home with a basement. She's a single woman who lives alone with her cat (I'll have to tell the story of her and this cat sometime, it's adorable). She has been telling my husband for years that she's ready to start downsizing, the upkeep on the house is getting to be too much for her. She's had a knee replacement, I think both hips replaced, her body is not in any condition to be raking leaves or shoveling snow any longer. Well after we were forced to move back home from that other rental, we started looking for another solution. Besides the neighbors and this stupid shared driveway, we're over the house. Yes it is my home, I married here, I was pregnant here, I brought my son home to this house. We've lived and loved for almost 14 years in this house. But it doesn't fit anymore. It's too big, much bigger than we need. And we don't have any yard to speak of, which is a nuisance. It's a small yard, not nothing, just too small to enjoy. When I was a young mom and had a baby to follow around, it was perfect. Now I have a 9 year old who needs more room. There are only 3 of us, but it's an 1800 Sq Ft 4 bedroom 2 bath house, with a full basement. And my husband needs a garage. I have a list of furniture I'm waiting for him to build me, he has all the tools, but not the room. Building furniture in the basement complicates things. So my mother in law offered us whatever help she could to get us out of this house. First we asked her to purchase an investment property (She has the money and credit to do so) and let us move into it. That way we could rent it from her and have a place to stay, while working on improving the property to sell for her to make a profit on when the time came for us to move on. She readily agreed and immediately made an appointment at the bank to speak with someone about how to go about it. My husband and I actually have excellent credit, both of our scores are over 770. I bust my butt to keep our credit scores high. But unfortunately he lost his job last week and my income alone is not enough to get us approved for anything. Which is why we asked for her help, because if she was our landlord we won't need credit and job checks. My husband finding work will not be a problem at all, but no one will finance you unless you've been at a job for a set amount of time, which we don't have. We want out of this house and to put it up for sale while the peak in the market is still hot. So after some discussion with the bank there were a few options put on the table.

One option was that my mother in law could take a second mortgage on her home (Almost paid off) and finance a loan for a house, but there were rules that required she live there so it wasn't really an option. We aren't asking her to reach into her retirement and pay for a home in cash, so we looked at other option. One being she move into a smaller place in her effort to downsize, and we move into her home. We all let that sit for a couple weeks and after some discussion decided that, if she was ready, this was the way to go. It stopped anyone from having to take nay type of financing. It moves her forward in her effort to downsize, while not getting rid of her house. It allows us out of our place and puts s into a home we know the history of. So she started looking for places that would fit her needs, and that's where we were. So my mother in law called my husband yesterday and said she'd found a duplex that she wanted to go have a look at, so they went. By the time he came home he was saying she had already filled out an application, and I don't see a reason her application would be denied. We had a realtor come look at our home last week and he sees no reason we shouldn't be able to expect an offer to at least allow us to break even, we'll meet with him again Wednesday to discuss the CMA he did for us. mother in law is probably soon moving into a duplex and we will be moving into her home. This will give us some time to figure out our next move (We'd like to leave Michigan), and give her a chance to try living somewhere smaller while still giving her the option to keep her home to come back to her home if after some time she decides she doesn't like the downsized place. I am very, very grateful that she is willing to help us and that instead of it just being a benefit to us it's a benefit to her as well. She doesn't have to sell her home, or put in strangers as renters.

I can't wait. I can't wait to get out of this house. I'm over it. There are more stories too long too tell that have to do with being lied to and let down by another neighbor a couple houses down over this whole situation. Someone we have considered family for the last 13 years and she just turned her back on us without thinking twice about it. After that, it's not just my house I've outgrown. My neighborhood is broken. It doesn't feel like a little neighborhood family anymore like it always did before. Add up all the reasons and it's time to move on and I'm so grateful that my mother in law is willing to help and provide us this option. It's so perfect, keeping us in the same area so that the 9 year old can stay at the same school. No need for employment checks to worry about. It's a smaller home, with a garage, and NO SHARED DRIVEWAY. Fenced in back yard and on a side street. It's close enough that my son may even be able to ride his bike to school since there are no major roadways to cross. And one big change I'm looking forward to it leaving my son home alone. He's a relatively mature 9 year old and I actually believe he is capable of being left home alone, for short periods of time. For instance if he gets out of school at 3:30 and goes home, and I don't get home until 5:30 or 6, I'd be okay with him being home alone. The law in our state doesn't dictate a specific age which means he's legally allowed and I'm confident he's responsible enough for a short time. However with these people next door harassing and threatening us, I never felt safe trying it. I don't like the idea that they might know he's here alone, and since I have caught them doing it I know they spy on my house. We just never felt like it was a good time to try it. But now I think we will be able to.

Lots of changes happening, and hubby is on the lookout for work. 2 moves happening soon, by the time I get back to work tomorrow the Christmas season will have already started and that will mean busy all the time. I've been fighting off this major depression that has been creeping in because of this living situation since last September when it all started. I am so much looking forward to being able to feel relaxed in my own home, and garden and use my yard again. Things are finally starting to look up!


So I've been struggling to find the energy to tell my story. It's long and it breaks my heart and the bad news still has not stopped.

The week before my surgery this situation with the nieghbors got so far out of hand we decided to find something to do about getting out, so we have friends whose brother has a lot of rentals, most in disrepair. He agreed to let us work on one of his rentals, just around the corner from where we live now, n exchange for rent. He let us move into the house with no lease, no deposit, no rent. He was even out of the country on his honeymoon when he agreed to all of it. So we spent a week cleaning, cleaning, cleaning, painting, installing, prepping, cleaning. This house was not in great shape but we didn't expect to move our whole home into it. We were left with the impression these stupid neighbors were leaving in June, so we thought it would be a VERY temporary solution to have me stay there for the first week or two after the surgery and wait until they move out, then we could come back home and not have to deal with it.


Well the first night we slept in the rental I woke up the next day (5 days before the surgery with one of my eyes swollen shut and a rash and hives covering my face and arms. With everything going on, We determined that it was likely a stress/allergic reaction to some makeup removing wipes that I use. Not a new package, nothing changed, but where I broke out if where I use those wipes, my face, my neck, back of my neck, and my forearms. I called the surgeon concerned she woudln't be willing to do the surgery if I was on a steroid, but she said that wouldn't stop her, so I went into a emergency medical facility on Friday morning (the second day I woke up in the rental) and got a cortisone shot and a prescription for some steroids. The rash didn't improve, at all, over the weekend. And my son developed a fever that went away when he was out of the house for more than  hours, but came back if he came back to the home. We began to suspect the rental home had mold and we were having reactions to it. By this time Monday has rolled around and I'm still covered in a rash, but I showed up at the hospital and they performed the surgery.

The MRI that was done to determine what was going on had apparantly been read wrong. I had had this same thing happen to me 10 years ago. A cyst in my ovary. Not the typical ovarian cyst that will likely rupture on it's own, but what they call a dermoid cyst or a teratoma. It's like a "Twin" inside a pouch in my ovary. The first time they did this, 10 years ago, they removed hair, nails, teeth, but they worked to save my ovary because I was young and had just married and had no children. Save my ovary they did and a son I had. Well the reading they did of the MRI led them to believe that this cyst was in my other ovary from where the first one was, which was a source for concern. She sent me for a LOT of extra blood work to ensure there was no need for an oncologist in the ER. But upon reading the MRI they determined this one was in my left ovary this time. So when it came time for surgery they started on the left, thinking that was the ovary they were removing, only to discover upon getting in there it was actually a reoccurance in my right ovary, so they had to cut wider. So right off the bat the incision is bigger than we expected. Other than that, surgery was successful and they removed the one ovary and both my tubes. I woke up afterwards and concentrated on recovery. Naturally I slept, a lot, after surgery. I remember waking up the next morning and being very itchy. Well my face and arms and neck were still covered in this other rash that popped up before the surgery, but I look down and notice a rash has now broken out on my chest, my stomach, my legs.....everywhere. I told the nurses and Dr that checked on me that I was concerned that the rash was spreading, because I was on steroids to treat it. No one seemed too worried about it, and they gave me lots of benadryl and kept an eye on it. The three days in the hospital for recovery was rough, but by the time it was time to go home, we were still in that rental because we hadn't 100% determined that there was really an issue there and we needed to be out of our house while this situation calmed down with the neighbors. Well my first night out of the hospital I woke up many times, obviously in pain and uncomfortable, but the rash kept getting worse. And worse. And worse. And at this point we began to wonder if it was not the house, but something else since some of the rash popped up while I was in the hospital, away from the house. My husband dragged me to the Dr who determined that I was having an allergic reaction to my pain meds, which I've never had any type of allergy of before but you can develop an allergy to hydrocodone anytime in your life. So 3 days after surgery and the dr recommended I stop taking my pain meds and try to recover with just motrin.

So not knowing if it's the house or the meds that are making my rash worse and recovery harder, we bite the bullet and decide we have to go back to our home and just deal with this neighbor shit, thinking it would only be days at this point. My poor husband, he worked his ass off to get all this done. I couldn't do anything, i couldn't even stand up on my own, so he moved us, twice, in a week. And of course, as soon as we tried backing the trailer into our driveway, the bitch next door started in on my husband and it turned into the cops being called that night and a visit being paid to them the next day. To clarify the neighbor situation, we share a driveway which is why we have to deal with it. If it were just a matter of staying on their own property and leaving me alone it'd be fine, but I can't use my driveway if one of them are and they have both shown a serious capability for violence with their vehicles, so the idea that they may be trying to pull out while I'm trying to pull in and a confrontation happens isd a large part of what causes me such anxiety about it. And the fact that this bitch is bat shit crazy like my mother was, I can see it and feel it, and I'm telling you she's going to snap one day and lose control. And he's the same way, but his is from temper. These are the type of people that I've felt uneasy about since day 1 of meeting them. So we tried to use our driveway to move back into our home, 4 days after surgery, and an argument ensues in the driveway. I was not here for it, I was drugged up on motrin and benadryl and asleep upstairs. The police came over that night, spoke with Matt and told him they'd have (another) talk with the neighbors, which he did the next night and she wasn't there when the police stopped by. We could hear what the guy was telling the police and he lied to him about everything, which is stupid because we have messages and video to support our story, we can prove they are lying. So since the police have gone over there, she had one more big fit the day after coming home from work when Matt was in the driveway, talking shit about him on her way in the door, and since then they've MOSTLY left us alone. But in the last week she has started using the parking part of my property to turn around instead of backing down the driveway. Something that hasn't been done for years, so it's intentional and they are still poking at us. I posted a No Tresspassing sign on that side of the driveway and she hasn't done it again since, but I watched her on my security camera have a little 4 year old fit in her yard about it when she saw the sign. Also, they told the officer they are staying until December. My heart broke, now I have to deal with this for another 6 months?! I thought this was almost over!! And their landlord is fucking useless, she doesn't care she's being lied to, she doesn't care these people are treating my nieghborhood like the ghetto, because they pay her rent and on time, she won't even waste her time speaking to us. Matter of fact when we were delaing with the TWP and the police about it the Chief of police himself had to place 4 calls to her before she finally called him back.

The first two weeks after the surgery were some of the worst days of my life. The Dr informed me that the stuff they removed from the teratoma was highly hormonally active, and I believe it the way my hormones went crazy. I walked around here sobbing for nothing. I have never more in my life wanted to die, I begged my husband to put a bullet in my head. I was in so much pain and emotionally I was so defeated by these pricks next door. The feelings have since passed and the hormones ahve settled and I can handle them, but those first two weeks were awful. Terrible. Devastating.

So I've been home for 5 weeks now, this is my last week off before I go back to work. I'm nervous, but ready to go back. And yesterday my husband comes home from work in tears. We think he's getting fired on Monday. It's another story I don't have the energy for, but he has been unhappy at this job since about week 2, they have not treated him right and there are serious communication problems there. As far as the house goes, my MIL has agreed to help in any way she can. She's offered to help us finance another house, to take a second mortgage out on her house, to help us sell this house, to move into an apartment so we can move into her house...she's just trying to do anything she can to help. And it might have been something we could figure out....but not if he loses his job Monday. That will kill any chance of being financed for a new home, I don't make enough to have two mortgages and we can't sell this house yet.

I realize now I'm rambling, and I know I didn't even cover it all. But there are some of the basics. Surgery is done, it was successful, we are back home, the neighbors are pricks, we are trying to find a way to move and somewhere to move to soon, and I go back to work in a week.




Here we are, the end of May. A time I am usually very excited for. My birthday, the beginning of gardening season, this year we talked about moving, and the weather is so nice!


This May holds difference significance for me, marked with awful experiences from these complete assholes next door, and waiting for test results, appointments, phone calls. It's all very nerve wracking. In the latest development the guy who lives there has decided that scaring me and watching us all the time isn't enough, now he has proven he'll go further by harassing a guest that came to my home. The chief of police has been involved, but for some reason everyone thinks it's just a matter of waiting them out, which leaves me hope. Last we knew, they were suppose to leave in June.The same thing was told to another neighbor by the landlord a few months ago. So based on all the information I have, I'm counting down the days until the end of June and I cannot wait to see a moving truck.


I'm not quite counting down the days until surgery since I don't have a date set. However after my final appointment with the dr last week it has been determined there is no need for an oncologist in the OR. She feels confident in proceeding and said she'd have someone call me with a date set this coming week. So no actual countdown happening, but we agreed she would try to schedule the surgery before June 30th, for insurance reasons. So I do have a ballpark countdown going in my head. While I am sometimes over come with emotions and find myself crying about the idea of surgery, at least it's just surgery and the problem is gone. It will be a few days in the hospital, and a few weeks at home without driving, maybe a full 8 weeks before I can return to work. But I am looking forward to being comfortable again. Right now there is constant discomfort and pain and I cannot be too active. Even something like riding a bike would be very painful.


So I feel like I'm in the final stretch and if I can just hold off this dark cloud for 1 more month, then I'll have some time at home this summer on recovery to charge back up.  Once these neighbors are gone I can feel safe and comfortable in my home and yard. And after we've found a way to pay for the surgery I'll be able to keep myself busy with selling this house and finding a new one.


This afternoon I had an appointment with the Dr, who will actually be the one to perform my surgery. Last time this cyst grew, it was in my right ovary. The tech that did my ultra sound told me it looked like it was in my right ovary, which makes sense. Well it's not, it's in my left ovary. Which means now we can only really suspect what it is until we get in there to take it out, although it looks like it's probably another dermoid/teratoma. She (the Dr) said because of the fact that that it's in my other ovary than before, and my age (34) she's only slightly more concerned about it. The chance of re-occurrence in the opposite ovary, and in someone over 25, is very small. Like 1%. So some blood work was ordered to make sure that there aren't any indicators in my blood that she needs to schedule an oncologist in the operating room with her.

The bad news is that because of it's size, I will have to be cut open again. It's too large to safely remove any other way. She and I agreed that taking the entire ovary, dermoid and all, is the best route and she's okay with that because my other ovary is healthy and functioning just fine. We also discussed and agreed on taking my tubes.She indicated there is a lot of evidence that ovarian cancer sometimes starts in the fallopian tubes, and since she's leaving me an ovary, removing my tubes is a good preventative option. We are done having children, which is one of the reasons I made it a point to have my husband with me at this appointment, so he could also help convince the Dr that we were in complete agreement about not having any more children. I feel pretty relieved that she agreed to take the ovary whole instead of cutting it open and trying to save it, and she seemed a little relieved that I didn't have a problem with the other ovary staying in.

It will be major surgery, she said to expect 6 - 8 weeks for recovery. The only real plus side of that I can think of is that now I won't need to figure out childcare for my son for a large portion of this summer! He's old enough that he's capable of helping me in the recovery process,so it will prevent my husband from having to take as much time off to help in the beginning.


I feel like I've done my fair share of complaining about my neighbors, but things have gotten out of hand and the chief of police has gotten involved. This guy is threatening, his girlfriend is aggressive. I've seen him be violent and to be frank, I'm terrified of him. She's screamed at me (fuck you bitch, fuck you) from her house, which is about 10 feet from mine, when she saw me sitting at my dining room table once, doing homework with my 8 year old. I can barely stand the idea of being outside in my own yard or driveway and am literally only leaving my house when my husband forces me to, other than to go to work. I'm feeling trapped in my own home and it sucks,it sucks worse than almost anything I could have ever imagined. We've discussed it and as soon as we can we are putting the house up for sale. Not just because of this situation, but this is making us realize how important it is to NOT have to share our driveway with anyone. It's a huge nuisance and we've been lucky the first 12 years here that we didn't have issues before.

I'm slowly shutting down. I've started pretty much ignoring everyone and everything, I just want to sleep. All the time.Which I know is a dangerous sign of a depression headed my way and I keep thinking if something would just give I could fight it off. But right now, I've thrown in the towel. Between these pricks next door and the idea of surgery, again, I'm not up to it. I asked my dr a few weeks ago for something for anxiety and he obliged. I've used it extremely sparingly and it's helped, but I'm afraid to get addicted so I won't use it even daily.

I am so tired.Just tired of it all, all the time. Bigger and better things will surely come my way, eventually, but for now I just want to bitch about it. I'm a good person. Hard worker. Loving, caring individual. Kind and compassionate, trying my hardest not to raise an asshole.  Contributing member to society. But for the next few months I think even being a member of society is asking too much, I plan on just existing. And by next year this time, when I'm back to normal, I'll just remember this as a dark time I don't talk about.


So my PCP called me this morning with the MRI results and it is definitely just a mass or cyst. No cancer and no infection. So I'm still waiting for a call from the OB who I will need to schedule surgery with. Next I get to wait for surgery.

I am not looking forward to surgery. I'm scared to be put under to be perfectly honest. I know that it's done every day and lots of people go through it just fine, but I'm scared. I've even had 4 surgeries in my life, 3 of which I've had to be put under for. And I hate it, it terrifies me.

The mass is 3.34" by 4.1" by 5.6' (approximately). The average grapefruit is about 4 inches in diameter. So this would explain a lot of the symptoms I've been having for a long time now. Although the one thing every dr or tech I've seen about it up until now seems to think the weight loss shouldn't be a side effect of it.  But there has been a pretty major weight loss, considering I'm not trying.

Looks like more waiting on the agenda.


Since my Dr's appointment on Tuesday I've had a couple things done that have kept me busy, besides work. The day of my appointment I was sent in for an ultrasound, which they did an external and internal. The results of that prompted my primary care physician to order me an MRI and that was done just today, I got home about an hour ago. Everyone seems to be pushing getting things done quickly, which makes me think this cyst must be very large. I'm not too concerned about cancer, I honestly thought the dr ruled it out with the ultrasound but apparently not, since I was given contrast at my MRI today and that is to see cancer, so if he had cleared it through the ultrasound the contrast wouldn't have been necessary.


After the MRI was done I was told by the tech that she was going to mark the results urgent and that I should expect a call from either my PCP or the OB/Surgeon I'm being sent to.


Here's what I do know. A dermoid cyst grew inside my right ovary and I had it removed 10 years ago. a dermoid cyst is...

Dermoid cyst of the ovary : A bizarre tumor, usually benign, in the ovary that typically contains a diversity of tissues including hair, teeth, bone, thyroid, etc. A dermoid cyst develops from a totipotential germ cell (a primary oocyte) that is retained within the egg sac (ovary). Being totipotential, that cell can give rise to all orders of cells necessary to form mature tissues and often recognizable structures such as hair, bone and sebaceous (oily) material, neural tissue and teeth.


10 years ago when I had it removed they didn't know what they were going in for, we knew there was an issue because a laparoscopy was done and a mass was seen,but unidentifiable. The Dr said an exploratory laparotomy was necessary and he would find out what was going on in surgery. So I had the procedure and it turned out that he removed a large dermoid from inside my right ovary, stitched me up and sent me on my way. They worked to keep my ovary because I was 24, had just gotten married, and had no kids. We wanted kids and with the go ahead from my Dr, we started trying 3 months after the surgery and within 3 months I was pregnant. But I don't think the right ovary contributed to that, I don't believe it started working again for years after I had my son and quit breastfeeding, because after my periods started again they were 60 day cycles, but within the last couple years they have switched to sometimes shorter than 28 day cycles. This makes me think my right ovary is working again. But really none of that matters. I gave birth 9 years ago and I think both my ovaries work now.


So what is happening, that I can tell so far, is that the dermoid cyst is back. And apparently it has had 10 years to grow unchecked and is large, there is a very noticeable fist sized lump that protrudes and thats just what I can see. The ultrasound tech mentioned that the mass was definitely on my right side and I asked how could that be if all my pain is on my left? She said the growth is coming off of the right ovary and growing towards the left side, shoving all my organs over where they don't belong and squished together. It's no wonder I'm in constant discomfort and sometimes pain.


So here I sit, waiting for the call about to consult with someone about surgery. Here's what;s going on in my mind. If they are going to have to go back in to remove the cyst,and I've been married for 11 years and have a child,I feel like I'm done with the baby maker stuff and I want them to remove the right ovary. Just the right one though, because I've not had an issue with my left and if they take both I will either go through menopause at 35,or have to go on hormones, which is a risk in my family. My sister tried birth control and ended up with blood clots in her lungs. I'm also going to request they take my uterus. I'm a little more nervous that I'll have to really talk them into this one though, because it makes things more final. I could certainly still have children with only one ovary, but not without the uterus.


I just want it all over with.


A few months ago I tried a yoga class with a friend, we went on Sundays. Not all the time,but when we got of our asses. During the few classes I took I recall being asked to lie flat on my back and being unable to comfortably do so. I had to bend my left leg, and even then there is discomfort in my lower left side. So after about 3 classes I start to get very curious about it and looking at my last 18 months of health, and suddenly I don't feel so good.

I've lost more than 30 pounds in the last year, without trying and for no reason that I can tell. Sometimes when I go to the bathroom I cant right away, it takes me a few minutes like it does when you have a UTI. So I would treat myself for a UTI, but noticed symptoms never went away. Severe pain when it comes to period cramps, the kind that radiate into my back and legs. I had to get a TENS machine to try and find a way to work through my cramps. Constipation often for no reason. Loss of appetite. Pain during sex. One symptom after another after another that I just put off.

So after thinking about all that and being unable to lay flat at yoga I started to realize that there may be something wrong, so I went on a search of my body to see if anything was physically out of whack. And (fortunately) I found a very large lump in my abdomen. I say fortunately because when I was younger I had pelvic pain that I needed major,open surgery for but it took me years to find a Dr willing to take my pain seriously. Because I was 17-18 years old and sexually active.I was told I had PID or HPV, even though tests all came back negative. Since there was no way to look at me and see anything wrong, I was over looked for a long time as a teen for pelvic pain. By the time I was able to find a dr to take me seriously I had a large dermoid cyst removed from one of my ovaries. So I feel fortunate this time that I have a lump that cannot be ignored as a symptom,but is a physical manifestation of something wrong wit my body that cannot be ignored.

So I had a Dr appointment today at 11 Am and by 4 PM I was at the hospital having ultra sounds done. It seems as if there is a large possibility that this dermoid cyst that was removed 10 years ago may be regrowing. Which will mean major surgery again and,if I'm lucky, being able to talk the dr into just taking the ovary and maybe my uterus while in there. I just keep thinking how relieved I am that it could be something simple as a dermoid cyst, and not the ovarian cancer I was scared of. I'll be calling my Dr in the morning for his results and to find out the next step.


So between the new job, my asshole neighbors who are harassing me, and the health issues it's safe to say life is pouring on me at the moment. But that must mean life plans on blooming for me soon, no?


I have recently started a new management position at a retail store that I have been working on an early morning crew for since October. I have been a part time, temporary employee at several places on and off for the past 4 years and mainly managing my home. The reason for this is because I needed to be home to be available to work around my sons school schedule, but also because I have had some healing to do after a terrible depressive episode. Well my son is a little older and I am a little stronger and I thought I may be ready to take on the world again. So I applied for, interviewed for, and got the assistant manager job at the retail store I already worked at. I started technically three weeks ago as management.


But my first week another manager was on vacation, so I was scheduled to fill in for her. A job I had never done, didn't know how, and had only worked part time for 5 months before I was scheduled to cover for someone who had been doing that job for 22 years. So my first week goes by doing someone elses job, and not training for mine.


Week two rolls around and again I'm being scheduled as management, but not for training. As a technicality on the schedule yes, but I've been stuck at register and any management calls that come in I am told to ignore, other managers on duty will get them. I'm not being shown how to do really anything and I was given about 2 hours one day to read some SOPs but that was it.


Well it's week three and I'm fed up. I have gone home after every, single shift in the last two weeks sobbing. I feel so stupid, I'm not being trained, I walk around confused about almost everything because the few things I have been shown no one will tell me about. Don't just have me watch you do something once and then expect me to know what the fuck I'm doing! My actual job is being neglected while I'm not being trained. So soon I'm going to start hearing about how MY job specific responsibilities are being ignored, but no one either knows what's going on, or will show me. By the time I get to do MY job, it will be so piled up and backed up that I will be fighting an uphill battle from day one.


I have literally come home crying everyday I've worked for the last two weeks. I've cried at work, as hard as I tried not to. And I can't pull my shit together. I used to be able to just have a few tears out, pull my panties up and move on. It's not working. There is this contact voice in the back of my head that just repeats all my failures, "You're not learning anything useful. You're not smart enough for this job. Your family is suffering because you're not home. Why aren't you catching on faster? You're so confused, just stop trying" The longer I work, the worse it gets, until I start to notice that it changes from this nagging bitch I can ignore to this mother-like figure screaming at me, "Just quit! They are all better off without you! You're a failure and worthless! Just walk out,they deserve more than you can offer!". I'm trying, hard, so hard, to handle it, but it's getting harder and harder to shut the tears off once they start.


Well son went missing. Simple misunderstanding and it was bound to happen, two full time parents in the house for the first time means a lot more responsibility on him to be in the know, watch the schedule, and know where he is supposed to be after school. There s a calendar on the fridge that has my schedule, dads schedule, and his schedule and he's suppose to mark off every morning that he checked the calendar and knows where to go after school. He did that today, as he has every day, but something slipped through and he ended up not where he was supposed to be after school. By the time I got a call he had not been where he was supposed to be for almost 2 hours and his dad couldn't find him when it was time to pick him up, so he called me.


I was literally already in tears, telling one of my other managers about how fucking stupid I felt and how I couldn't believe how little training I was getting and when my husband called and said our son wasn't where he was supposed to be, I just fell apart. I sat on the floor and started sobbing uncontrollably, in front of at least two other managers and two part time employees. I just crumbled and couldn't pull myself out of it. My son is fine, he's home,he's safe, he was safe the whole time. But for 15 minutes (actually for almost 2 hours, we just didn't know it) no one knew where he was, and after those 15 minutes he happened to called me himself, and HE was crying because he was scared that we hadn't come to pick him up yet. Him calling me scared was the only way we found him.


So...I'm a fucking failure and I can't stop crying. I am failing my store, I am failing myself, I have failed my family, I failed as a mom. I don't want this job, I'm not capable and I'm not ready to work full time again, and apparently especially not in management. I worked hard, HARD, to get back to the top. Not even ON top, just TO the top in the last few years and until about 3 weeks ago I was proud of myself. I was doing good, felt proud of the work I was doing for the company, for being on top of everything at home for my family. Now...I'm back at the bottom looking up.


I'm trying, I'm trying, I'm trying, I'm trying, I'm trying.......


After I gave birth 9 years ago, I was fortunate enough to be a stay at home mom for the first two years, then things changed in my household and I went back to work while my husband stayed home. Shortly after that change, we decided to move out of state.Once we had relocated I took a full time management position and was the main source of income for my family for the next 2.5 years. My husband did work, but my job paid more and was the reliable source of income in the family. Things happened, as they do, and I ended up quitting the job when we decided to move back home. During the course of my employment I had a number of things happen to me that left me feeling insecure about my position, almost constantly. I worked with an extremely manipulative girl who, I will admit, got me. I thought we were friends, I trusted her, our families spent time together, we even spent holidays with her parents and grandparents. But true colors showed and I as crushed when it happened. By the time we moved back home, I was broken. In pieces. I tried to work, but found myself crying on my way in, barely holding it together, and sobbing from the time I got home until the time I could go to sleep. I was depressed, I had developed anxiety I didn't know how to handle, and I just couldn't find it within myself to pull out of it. I did everything I thought I should, I talked to Dr's, I got on meds, but it still took me almost two years to realize the medicine's side effects were worse than the symptoms I dealt with just being depressed and anxious. So I decided to quit the meds and find other ways to manage my mental health. It's a work in progress.


Since we moved home, in 2013 I have worked only part time, temporary jobs that have allowed me to be home to work around my sons school schedule. It also allowed me a lot of time to myself,to heal, to figure out how to manage my mental health, and to prepare myself for a life with anxiety. This past October I took a part time, early morning stocking job at a craft retail store. I worked no more than 20 hours a week,sometimes less than 10, and was only hired as a seasonal employee. I am a valuable person to have on your team though and they realized it quickly and have done what they could to make sure I get as many hours as possible during the early morning hours, but couldn't pay me any more than minimum wage. The pay wasn't really that important to me, I took the job because I had been house cleaning and I was ready to get back into working with people, but slowly. I chose a job that I knew I could excel at to help build my confidence. One that didn't challenge me too much so I wouldn't get discouraged,and one that I knew I would have no trouble bring hired into and convincing them to keep me past the seasonal work.


5 months after I began as part time, early morning, truck help a management position opened up at my location. One of the managers who has been there for 15 years put in her two weeks notice. After some considering and talking with my husband, I spoke with my manager and applied. And got the job. I start my new position on Monday. I'm nervous as hell, since this is the first full time work I've taken in 4 years, this will be the test of how well I can manage myself and my anxiety, in addition to my new team. On top of just getting the position over other employees who applied when my manager called me into his office to give me the official offer he quoted me the new hourly management hourly pay they wanted to put me at, which was already significantly more than I was making, and I surprised myself by cracking a joke about how it was a good start but of course I'd take more and I'd just have to prove that I was worth it. We both laughed about it, but an hour after I left he called me back to tell me he was going to bump my pay another dollar an hour!


I'm very conflicted because I have generally very low self esteem and am an incredibly anxious individual, but I know that I can do the job and do it well. My other two managers have complete confidence in me and have told me so. The time has run out for me to worry about it, or to hope for it, or plan for things to go right. Now is the time for me to prove that I am, I can, and I will. If I can go from part time, minimum wage, seasonal help to one of three store managers in 5 months time, surely I can do this. Right? RIGHT?!


I am woman, hear me roar!


Back when I was a teen, age 15, I lived in an abusive home. My mother was very sick and mistreated everyone and everything around her. We kids learned to manage as best we could until we got out. At 15 my mom decided not to allow me time to get out on my own, and she kicked me out. In the middle of February, with nothing to my name, in a pair of flip flops with 18 inches of snow on the ground. That story is one for another time. This isn't even the story of the family that took me in, the boy who loved me, and the mother who loved me when mine wouldn't. This is the story to give you hope that sometimes you do get closure, and that if you are patient time does heal some wounds.


During the time when I was being kicked from my home and being accepted into another, I was in a relationship with a boy. His family took me in. We had been together for over a year at this point, even though yes we were young. We had been friends for many, many years and it naturally evolved into more. We were both happy and we fit, we loved one another fiercely. Our personalities were made for one another, our love was young, dumb, but pure love. His parents loved me and accepted me, his remaining brother at home fought with me as if I were his sister. I never felt more like a member of a family than I did theirs. Actually, this boy and I broke up 17 years ago and just this past week I surprised our momma with flowers and a visit on her birthday and she hugged me as tightly as she did the day she took me in and told me she would be my mother, just as tightly as she has every time she has seen me, under good circumstances or bad, over the last 24 or so years.


So this relationship with this boy that I was good. I know we were young and naive, but I knew that we could make it, even today I believe in some universe we made it and it was as natural as love is supposed to be. It never occurred to me otherwise, I just always felt like I belonged there, with him, and I never had a reason to question it. As a result, I never did question it. I don't remember now what made me begin to doubt my place in his life. It could have just as likely have been something that happened with my mother, that made me doubt me and I projected it onto my relationship, because it was what was good in my life at that time. But I remember him buying a new car and it gave me doubt. He just came home one day and and had bought this Jeep that had been for sale o the side of the road. It wasn't like we had a joint account, we were barely 18 (I would have only been 17 at the time),we still lived with his parents, the idea that he would buy a new vehicle was not a foreign one. We both worked, we had money, we had plans. It was the idea that he hadn't discussed it with me at all. He just...bought it and came home with it. After about 24 hours I started to feel very guilty about what seemed like an unreasonable reaction to him deciding with his own money to buy himself a new car and I began to look within for a reason why this completely normal action on his part led me to feel upset. It didn't take long and I dug up some stupid thing in my head that I clung to, and continued to cling to for many years. That he deserved better, that someone would who get upset about him buying himself a car, with his own money, wasn't good enough for him and his loving family. Such a tiny thing, but I convinced myself that he deserved better and I was never going to be able to be everything he should have, even if I was all he ever wanted.


Long story short, naturally, but I broke up with him. I left. It was hard and we both suffered, for a long time. Remember, it was true love and while it was puppy, teenage love in the beginning, it had evolved. Maybe we didn't understand forever yet, but together we knew true love and had faced many, many things together already. The break up was hard, so hard for both of us. Our friendship seemed to not be able to endure, we had been friends first and we tried so hard, we had been through so much. I nurtured the friendship for many years while my heart still cried for him daily. We both moved on, finally. I found the man that would become my husband. He moved in with a girl and had two kids with her, they broke up over a year ago. My husband and i have been together for 14 years, married for 10, and have a son together. While my husband has always been extremely understanding that my ex and I have way more than just an ex situation between us and has allowed any and all communication between me and him or anyone in his family, the mother of his children does NOT view our relationship this way. She has not been okay with us speaking or keeping in contact, which proved difficult for me to let go of the family I had known for years. But slowly I backed out and kept things to a minimum, even with my ex's insistence that I belonged there and that I had every right to stay close and in contact with his parents and siblings, I did not. It wasn't fair to her and she was trying to keep her family together, if my presence was a constant threat (And she certainly acted that way) than what kind of person did it make me to hold firm to my presence?


Last year sometime I heard from him suddenly. It was a message asking advice on putting his house up for rent. My husband and I had moved states, and back, a few years prior and had our home up for rent. The questions were completely legitimate, but I was surely not the only person in his life he could have asked them of. He has a cousin whom I know to rent several properties. But I always gave him my time and kindness, I do still love him and he is and always will be a part of my past, it would be more than natural to me that he remain part of my present. I had put a lot of effort into the friendship and it wasn't unusual to hear from him, or speak with one another. Just that I knew it put a strain on his relationship so we didn't speak unless he contacted me, which didn't happen often. After our house talk we moved onto the catching up stage of the conversation and found that he had broken up with the mother of his children. It had been some 8 months that he was single. Suddenly, I saw a glimmer of hope. Not for our friendship, there was always going to be something there, even if it was almost nothing. I'm not worried about not being friends, that is inevitable after all we've been through. No, what I saw as an opportunity. An it's so unlike me, but I took it.


I asked him to listen, to answer some questions, to help me understand some things I had never have gotten an explanation to, to tell me what he went through. 17 years after our break up and all the answers were laid out in front of us and suddenly, we both understood. As it had been true love, the feelings were very raw for far longer than they should have been. We were too young for anything else but all or nothing for too long, until enough time had passed. Until we had both moved on, without closure. Among our talks we agreed that time maybe didn't heal our wounds, that wasn't quite how it had happened. But scarred over and thickened. Healing indicates that the wound returns to normal, looks like it never happens. But scars, scars are very different. They are visible and touchable, they lend us memories that don't let us forget how we got them. But I have been blessed with a chance, answers I never expected to receive, and a chance to admit things that he deserved to hear from me. It changed nothing and it changed everything.


I've been married for over 10 years, with my husband for over 14 years. It's been 17 years since this boy and I broke up. It took a long time, but I had moved on and had learned to love again, without closure. I don't know many people who get a chance to say it, but now I can. I received closure and got to close the door on a chapter in my life that I had never hoped to understand completely, even if it took almost 2 decades.


To The Words

When I was very young, still a teenage but just barely, I fell in love with a guy who clearly did not love me. But it was fine, it taught me early the valuable lesson of how to deal for feelings that you have that are not mutual. But we shared this poem between one another often, dissected its words, played with meanings, imagined what the author was going through that caused such words. Enjoy if you have never had the pleasure of reading prior to today.


A Poem by W.S. Merwin


To the Words


When it happens you are not there

oh you beyond numbers


beyond recollection


passed on from breath to breath


given again


from day to day from age


to age


charged with knowledge


knowing nothing

indifferent elders


indispensable and sleepless

keepers of our names


before ever we came


to be called by them

you that were


formed to begin with


you that were cried out


you that were spoken


to begin with


to say what could not be said

ancient precious


and helpless ones

say it

Sign in to follow this  
Followers 0