Childhood Joys to Adult Realities

How do we blame a year for taking a life? How do we blame the time that has ticked in the day or the day that has passed in the month? It's almost as if society can only see the hand in front of them, inches from their faces yet they can't see the truth on the vast horizon beyond said hand. 

Our minds are held captive and our intellect is suppressed by the ability to blame something as inconsequential as a numbered year. 2016 is not the grim reaper, it has zero ability to extinguish a life. Someone's drug use, choice of suicide, failure to take care of their health, or old age are factors that extinguish life. 

Death is a tragedy that in many cases causes a domino effect, it's an event that tears open our hearts and leaves us speechless. However we need to unbury our intelligence. 

2016 has been a year of many losses. Many have lost loved ones and the world has lost many great celebrities and musicians alike. One thing we mustn't lose sight of is what people have brought into our lives before their exit. There has been so much great joy and memories that can never be taken away from us, and although their contributions won't continue, their legacy both great and small can be passed down for generations to come. 

Let's just stop the nonsense of saying or blaming 2016 and get back to the facts and basics of life. Because like it or not, there will probably being even harder and more shocking losses in 2017. 

 

 

37 in 2

Were you ever a child who wondered off and before you knew it you found yourself completely lost? You're looking around for anything even remotely familiar that you can grab onto for comfort, only to find that you're completely lost in the spot you're standing in while the world carries on around you?

I'm there now. 

The week has arrived, the day is upon us and before you know it Jeremy's 37th birthday has me reeling on 30 years of memories. I completely feel like a lost child. I feel like holding onto a cover girl face streak free from tears, is a challenge I won't soon win. If anyone were to hug me, I'm almost sure I'd lose it all. 

The mass of my blogs have to do with Jeremy and you'd think it'd be tiring or at least therapeutic but it's actually been neither for me. I miss his face, I struggle to remember the sound of his voice, I still regret where we were when he took his last breath. I still have so much to say, I still have so much need for him to be here, and I still can't heal the brokenness that has engulfed my soul. 

As I fight continually on a daily basis to hold back the tears I feel like it only fuels the rage or frustration I have for where we were left. If I could just feel safe I could harness all the emotions that I'm burying inside but to be vulnerable and trust someone again with something so delicate to me is beyond unfathomable. 

It's incredibly difficult to understand how he's had four birthdays pass so far. It's also incredibly difficult to understand how I've managed all of this time without him by my side, without both his anger and his love, and without his protection.  

 

Jeremy, from every closely cherished memory and conversation, all the way to the miles and miles that your ashes have traveled, I love you and I miss you with ever ounce of body. I never thought I'd live this many days of my life without you and I never imagined I'd still be apologizing to you for all the tears I still cry. Until we meet again Jer. 

Dream the Impossible

I remember the first time I had a lucid dream, it was about two years ago. It happened shortly after a pretty bad car accident that left me with a concussion which was then followed by a bad fall down iced stairs. I thought it was only happening due to the pain medication I was on but then it kept happening. 

 

The first time I mentioned it to someone because I had no idea it had a name associated to it, they seemed shocked or impressed that I was actually lucid dreaming. I thought it was normal for people to do because at this point it was happening nearly ever night. This same friend asked me to see if I could actually control the events, certain things, or the dream all together. Now, that really seemed weird to me. But hey I'll try just about anything once. 

 

Each time that I was lucid dreaming I'd trying controlling bit by bit and it was incredibly amazing and somewhat scary. For me it's much like another universe. It's like living outside of my body. 

 

Lucid dreaming took a pause for a slight bit but it's returned, and it seems like with its return it's become even more strange than before. I'm definitely able to control more things but because these dreams are so incredibly real, I'm finding the line between this real world and a lucid dream very, very thin. I've also noticed some current events happening that I am almost completely sure I have already lived out in the dream world, which makes that line even thinner. 

 

I'm going to continue to enjoy this alternate dream world in which I have more control over things in, but the fact that the two worlds are merging some is a bit terrifying. Could there be something to this? Could there be far more to our lives than what God has given us right here?

All That Jazz

People joke all the time about how I'm the crazy cat lady but the joke is on them. The comment doesn't bother me in the least and if I had more resources and a bigger place, like a farm, I would have so many  more animals than these guys. Let me tell you how much I love these guys even when they're driving me crazy. 

Sophie is my easy going one, while sometimes a little unsure she just usually goes with the flow. I would have never expected this from her since I remember when she was bottle feeding as a baby, she was rather difficult with it. It wasn't until this year that her personality has seem to really come to light and I love that she surprised me that way. 

Jasper is my main man, the old man of the house and everything is his or so I say. He is my lover of heat and loves when it's 100 degrees out, won't come in to cool off no matter how hard I try, and will even sleep all day inside of a metal shed that's even hotter inside or under the black grill cover. Now that it's cold and snowy out, he pretty much refuses to step foot outside. He's also probably the most stubborn but that's because at the end of the day he knows he's adored endlessly by us. 

Eleanor is my opposite of Jasper, she's not at all a fan of the heat and didn't enjoy this summer too much but now that the snow and cold are here I'm fighting to try to keep her inside. It's only been since about April of this year that the cats have been allowed to go outside so this is the first they've seen of the snow. She will come in for a second and then wants right back out. She loves playing in the snow and has more of a 'knows what she wants' personality. 

Samson while new to the family couldn't care less about anything else so long as he's always able to be within a foot of me, at minimum. He's still learning about the cats and their tolerance of him; Sophie let's him rough house her all day, she will lay there and just let him beat up on her and get up and go where he can't get her when she's had enough. Ellie is just now starting to play a little with him but it's always a brief play, and Jasper wants no part of it (just yet), I think he'll warm up eventually although I have noticed that lately Samson has found his voice and Japs likes to stand close but not too close and let Samson bark at him. Samson has also completely reminded me what it's like to have a baby in the house again. I bottle fed Sophie and Ellie since they were 4 weeks old, I don't remember them being so much like having an actual baby again.

And lastly number 5 is the stray whom has kind of adopted us as her family. My daughter has named her Cookie-dough and she's still pretty shy but so far still comes around often and seems to want to join our squad. I am still working hard to show her that people aren't bad, I can't quiet figure out her story, she almost seems like she may have been a pet at one point but could have been abandoned. She wants to be petted but doesn't seem to really trust, although each day we make a little more progress. She loves taking walks with Samson when we go and enjoys playing with him, and the other cats don't seem to mind her being around too much. I don't know if she will stay around but I'll take care of her while she's here.

It seems like a lot for everyone else which is why I think I always get to be on the short end of the jokes but for me, each one of them is a joyful piece of my heart. And when we add up all the things I've endured in life, having joyful pieces added to my heart are an incredible blessing. Plus I am accustomed to the short end of the jokes, I was the only blonde in the family. Growing up family dinners were just me listening to dumb blonde jokes the whole time.

It's "that" Season

Tis' the season for saddened hearts, especially mine. I know I'm not alone here but it's certainly very easy to feel that way. 

I'd like to say that it just started but it's been slowly settling into the bed of my heart and mind. Every day is an intense struggle to keep from breaking down, I fight to hold the tears in and avoid any triggers that would flood me with despaired emotions. But it's December, there almost is no avoiding triggers at this point. 

Baby daddy has been on a war path for weeks, I mean the above average war path and it's wearing me thin since I have my own personal things to deal with right now. I'm also trying to work through some feels I've got for someone. I take reprieve in work and I try to with school but I know those too will be short lived escapes. I genuinely fear the next three months as I have for nearly the last four years. 

The hardest of these is not having a partner in life to lean on, both physically and emotionally. Not to dismiss my devoted friendships but although those are near to my heart they are far in physical distance. So while I will admit that I am withdrawing, I also don't like being alone while doing it. 

I cry nearly every day even when I try not to. The gaping wound in my heart and soul is ripped open again and as days go on the pain grows and grows, throwing my memories back to when this all began. I was first told by many that time will help heal but I still can't see healing this kind of pain. I can't seem to quiet the thoughts that occupy me nearly every second of every day right now. For a season that is so full of joy for so many, this is my season of pain and sorrow that I'm not sure I'll ever be able to escape. 

I have been able to maintain a normalcy during the largest portions of the year, but it's always and will always be these three months coming when I have to admit, I am not okay. I know I'm not alone, but I also want others to know that it is okay to admit when you yourself are not doing well and when you are not okay. Right now I am there, I am not okay and that's okay. 

Avoid the Homicide of Online Dating

I always go back and forth with online dating, sometimes I'm all into it and sometimes I'm rocking myself in the corner hiding after yet another terrifying experience. The latter is where I'm at today. I tried this time, a different online dating site because somehow I let that little voice tell me that good ones are hiding, just on "different" sites. That little bitch is a liar and for that, I have learned the final lesson in online dating - just don't do it. Let me set the scene. 

I recently joined a site and started talking to someone who lived in Lisle, a bit of a distance from me but then again everyone is at this point. So we started talking or rather texting and within the first two days there were red flags that I SHOULDN'T have ignored. After my last round of online dating and being completely catfished and lied to by a guy in Dekalb, I joked with this guy, we'll call him Kyle, and said "you aren't hiding any battery charges or anything are you". He laughed and said no and I asked the same about me, I told him about my DUI and we discussed it a little and the issues with Jeremy dying that brought me to that point in my life. There is one thing, I will never lie about who I am or where I've come from; it's what's shaped me into who I am today. I also told him how I then went on to get sober and things were cool from there. We talked about any drugs or alcohol, because I also found out a previous guy I was talking to was a pretty good fan of drugs and drinking which doesn't mess well with someone who is trying to be sober in life. 

If you haven't caught on yet, I seriously need to stay off of online dating sites. 

By day two this guy was dropping the "L" word in places where they clearly didn't belong. I worked for a while to keep him under control and not move too fast. I kept bringing up trying to go out and meet in person which was just a grueling task. He worked, but mostly I believe from home and the busiest his days got was his chiropractor appointments. As we continued to talk, he became more and more possessive, demanding, and controlling. We still hadn't met in person and I had to cross check him more than a couple of times and put him back in his place. Example, if I didn't respond to his text, whether it didn't warrant a response or I didn't respond quick enough, he would text me over and over and call me until I did respond. It was a bit much for me or for anyone at that. 

So I tried on three occasions to meet up with him to no avail. Yesterday we were suppose to have lunch but once I realized we weren't going to, I sent him a text letting him know that I've tried to meet up three times and I'm done asking. A little back and forth about how I'm no longer interested in meeting up and the following exchanges took place. 

At this point, he's lied about battery charges three times as well as a DUI charge. I've expressed to him at least three times that I am not interested in pursuing this anymore. 

Disregard my terrible grammar in the text, my brain was working far faster than my fingers. 

This is now the fourth denial of the battery charges against him. 

This is about where you know it's going to go down hill very soon.

This is the first mention of an actual date by him. And his dad? Cancer? He said his dad split long ago and his mom was divorced from his abusive step dad. First mention of his dad and his dad having cancer. It's questionable and said in poor taste if it's not true. And he's a guest at a wedding this weekend. I don't know how that can be stressful.

I figured a no thank you after the three times I told him I wasn't interested anymore was polite but to the point. Man was I wrong!

1. Not an alcoholic but nice try on turning my honesty against me. 2. Not actually a slut because I wouldn't sleep with you even though you wouldn't stop trying for it. 3. Not a whore either but how very kind of you. 4. My skin?! You've NEVER met me and have limited pictures of me. What the hell is that last ditch effort?? 5. Also, is the addict word in means to my DUI because again, it's irrelevant and an improperly used term. 

Ladies, let me just tell you a wee bit of advice when it comes to online dating, other than just don't do it. Google. Always Google!! No one is exempt from Google first off, second if by chance there's limited information on said person, search the county clerk records for whatever town they currently reside in. You'd be amazed at what you find. I'm sure that many find this to be way too much or creepy as Kyle called it, but I'm a single mom with a preteen daughter, there isn't any way I wouldn't be searching all over the internet to find out who someone is. And case in point, this bold face liar right here. If he was this verbally abusive with someone he didn't really know, I can't even begin to imagine what a relationship would have been like with him. I for sure would have, at some point, been stabbed 112 and had my body set on fire by him. I refuse to be a headline on Dateline. 

As I went to bed last night, I laid my head down and felt a sliver of the old me deep down inside that questioned why I wasn't crying after someone was so horribly mean to me. Then I realized that who I was so long ago, how I let words effect me, is no longer who I am today. People like this, no matter how disgusting they are don't deserve my tears, frustration, nor pain. He's a fart in the wind and my life will continue to be beautiful and joyous without him in it. I wish him well but I hope that no woman ever falls victim to his behavior.

Invitation Revoked

As the year winds down, I think my effort to extend invitations is doing the same. For those close to me, they know that for years I’ve made vocal complaints about the lack of hand written invitations, as well as the lack of people returning the proper RSVP in time for such invitations. I know we’re consumed with all of the digital media of today, but losing the art of sitting down and hand writing something to someone is a sad reality. Not only is it an incredibly thoughtful gesture, but I believe it stimulates a lot of intellect within us. My initiative to withhold invitations going forward stems from these four points.

1.       Your read receipt is on

For those of you with iPhones and your read receipt on, know that when someone asks you a question or extends an invitation and you read the text and never bother to answer them, the party on the other end knows. For those of you on Android, sure there is no read receipt, however one still knows when you’re ignoring the question. What’s the point in ignoring someone who simply asks to hang out? It’s incredibly rude to start with, and there is no shame at all in just saying “I can’t”. We’re adults, it’s okay to simply decline.

2.       You can’t lie with social media

When someone asks you to do something or asks you out, and you lie directly to them, you better be willing to see that lie out until your grave arrives. There are so many social media outlets available to us now that if we choose to lie to someone to get out of just telling them no or the truth, but then post something to social media that completely contradicts what we’ve lied about, it has multiple effects. First if makes the receiver of the lie feel like shit (good job a-hole), second you risk ruining that friendship and your reputation as a decent human being, and third you get caught. You get caught and you simply are just an idiot and a jerk then for it.

3.       Side stepping yes or no

Telling someone that you’ll think about their invitation is just the same as the two other points above. Saying yes or no really isn’t that hard, in fact they are some of the very first words that we acquire to our human language. If you have zero interest in an invite, you should just start with a no instead of tying up someone else’s schedule while they wait for you to decide. They’ll move on, make other plans, and then when you do decide you want to accept, you can’t get frustrated with them.

4.       You’re the blue orange

Being that friend who is argumentative about every single topic is completely exhausting for everyone around you. This also encompasses the constant complainer. Over the years I’ve refined this points of frustration. The constant complainer is one who never ever takes a single step towards correcting whatever bug has crawled up their butt this time, and the persistent argument over everything under the sun is completely exhausting to be around. Conversations are never positively stimulating nor a productive use of anyone’s time.

At some point we all just need to grow up. We need to own our words, say what we mean and mean what we say. Pussyfooting around in life has greatly weakened people and we need to grab life back by the balls and man up. If you have no interest in someone or an invite, say it. If the person wants to know why or more details, that’s okay they have a right to ask; and if at that point you can do it, by all means, continue to be honest with them. Telling the truth takes a lot less time to remember and keep track of than lying right to someone’s face and attempting to not get caught.

Parental Rights Should Have Limitations

On the heels of a very tough couple of days recently as a mother, I've found the very first notebook I started to keep after I initially left Don. As if the uprising of concern for my daughter's safety and well-being isn't gut wrenching enough right now, to look back on all of this that started almost 12 years ago makes me physically ill. There are many things in the notebook that I remember all too well, I remember the torture I was trying to get through and I remember the endless nights curled up in a ball allowing someone to make me feel worthless. Some of the things I wrote about I had forgotten about, but show true to his character and show that even after nearly 12 years, he is the exact same person that I chose to walk away from. That alone, is a tremendously sad fact. 

As my daughter grows older, she becomes wrapped into the verbal abuse by her dad that I've taken the brunt of all this time. I've been struggling with this for years that I can't protect her from his words. At first I couldn't protect her from his words he would use towards me in front of her, and now I can't protect her from his words towards both me and her. Not a single Judge will ever listen to me about him, nor make him get the proper counseling to be both a good parent and a good co-parent because everyone is stuck on "father's rights". As she's getting older, his verbal threats to physically harm her have increased both in volume and in descriptive nature. Even still, because he makes three times what I make, he's allowed to get away with it. 

The notebook I started had it's first penned entry in July of 2005 and went in and out of entries up until July of 2009. Ironic it was almost to the exact date, four years apart. In those four years, it was a clear documentation of his abuse, his failure to spend time with our daughter, and the preset to what my life is today with him in it. Although I've worked tirelessly to build myself up and refuse to allow him to threaten me, abuse me, or degrade me, it's something that he still works on doing on a daily basis if he can.  

As I re-read every entry, every line, and every word I could remember each of those moments and reflect on how far I've come. I remember thinking that there was no way I would survive it, that I couldn't possibly withstand under that kind of control and abuse; but here I am, here I am happier than ever and stronger than ever. My heart breaks over the relationships I've lost along the way due to his continual stress and pressure put on my life, I'm sad over the people who walked away or were ran out of my life because they knew they didn't have to stick around to deal with it, and I am forever in debt to those that have stuck around and been there for me. 

There is nothing that will make him behave better as a human being or as a father, but my life and my daughter's life, are well over the hump and on our way into a controlled free future within just a few short years. If anything could have been different over the years, it would have been that someone would have made him go through a lot of counseling, both for anger and for parenting. Someone would have stood up with me and understood that not all parents should be allowed the same rights when it's harmful and detrimental to a child. Not every child is benefited from having both parents in their lives. I have never and don't ever aim to run Don completely out of her life, that's not my goal nor the proper way for me to be a mother, however I wholeheartedly believe that his parental rights should have had strong limitations until he proved beyond a shadow of a doubt that his only interest and his best interest was for our daughter and our daughter alone. With that being said, I know now this late in life that that simply will not ever happen because this my friends isn't the story of David and Goliath. I will however rest in my final days of my life knowing that all I ever did and wanted to do was put my child first. That I worked tirelessly to always do right by her even during the times I failed at it. I want her to be able to have a healthy and loving relationship with her dad and not one where she crumbles under the name calling, criticism, and threats. 

Everyone's baby drama story is different, I know that, but I want others to think before they stand up on their soap boxes and scream about father's rights. I know too that the pendulum swings in the other direction as well with women being horrible mothers, but I want them to know that not all fathers work towards the best interest of their children but instead work years upon years to use them as pawns in order to wreak havoc and chaos on the lives of women whom simply have left them scorned. 

For women who are in similar spots as myself know that you are not alone. You will survive and you will thrive if you just keep your heart, mind, and goals focused on raising the best human beings you can. The hardest statement to this day is still, "I don't know how you do it". I simply cringe at that statement because my life has no other option. I have a child who needs me, I chose to have her which is my commitment to always be there for her, provide for her, and raise her to be a good and decent human being. To say you don't know how I do it is foolish because I just do it.

LOVE MUST BE SINCERE.

HATE WHAT IS EVIL;

CLING TO WHAT IS GOOD. 

~ Romans 12:9

I Don't Remember Asking For Your Opinion On My Parenting

Recently my daughter and I took our 2016 Summer vacation and it was a blast. Our sole purpose of the trip was to get away, see friends in Arizona, and visit California where she's been talking about going to college for at least a year. Neither of us had ever been to California so we were very excited to see the state, and to say it was insightful and beautiful would be an understatement. Our vacation felt much too short and left our hearts longing to make our home out west some day where the sun is almost always shining. As we returned home, I was able to share our vacation stories with friends and family alike. 

My mission as a parent has always been to put my child first (many say it but few do it), I want her to be a positive contribution to society when she grows up, and ultimately I don't want to raise an asshole. I have strived to produce a parenting style different than my own upbringing. While I still see some reflections of my parents at times, I also know that what was then just won't do for what my life is now. One very important thing I took away from my childhood was to instill the importance of education into my child(ren) so that they knew that having to struggle as an adult isn't mandatory but an option provided that choices you make throughout your life. My daughter has always done very well in school and I want to continue to see her go down that path. Since she was about 8 or so, she's been talking about how she wants to be a Graphic Designer when she grows up. Art is something that she's always loved and has been good at. I love seeing her creative side grow. 

Once I realized that her job desire wasn't wavering, I started talking to her about colleges. Something that shamefully enough, I don't know a whole lot about; but I'm grateful for friends who do. As we started talking about them, we also started looking into them. It's not anything that is time consuming but over the years, we've visited states and sometimes campuses to get a feel for the environment that she may or may not be dwelling in one day. It's been such a very cool thing for us to be able to do together. 

So with that being said, if one more person, especially those without any children, have the audacity to ridicule me or my daughter for looking at or discussing colleges at 11 - I may just lose my shit. 

 

The above picture popped up in my feed on Facebook this week and it couldn't have been more perfect timing for what's been swimming around in my thoughts for the past couple of weeks. Now yes, this child is exceptionally gifted to be attending college at 11, however I can almost bet that his parents did absolutely everything they could to support his continual growth. 

I feel like if I don't do my job as a parent and educate my daughter on everything good the world has to offer, she may end up thinking that settling in life is all there is to do. I want her to know that hard work will take you farther than being lackadaisical. I want her to know that pebbles she drops into life's ocean today will have a ripple effect far beyond the years she can see ahead. I want to set the bar high for her so that even if she only reaches it half way, she's still a success either way. 

After our trip I asked her if she still wanted to attend college in California. She said she didn't really want to, while some of the scenes are breathtaking, there's a lot to it that is just too much and frankly just not her cup of tea. We took a good tour around ASU and she saw a lot of what Arizona had to offer, and true to form, she's like her mother and Arizona very quickly won over her heart. 

I know there's still a few more years to go until she graduates, but I'm grateful for these moments I get to share with her. I'm grateful that I have the opportunities to travel with her and to show her what's really out there in the world for her to one day discover on her own. I've also learned that when she makes a decision like changing her mind on states to attend colleges in, she's put some real thought into it. So it's incredibly disheartening to me that people I keep close in my life would say the things I've been hearing since we've returned. Some have downright raised their voices in very opinionated protest, about how ridiculous it is for an 11 year old to be looking at, let alone talking about or making decisions on colleges. 

This is my child, I've raised her for nearly 12 years day in and day out, and I think if anyone was to know what's right or not right for her it would be me. So please, if you have an opinion on something like me pushing college, do me a solid and shut your mouth. As I said originally I won't raise an asshole, which also means that I won't raise a child who grows up to think she's entitled to something she hasn't worked for or earned. There are far worse things that parents impose upon their children, and frankly I cannot ever see college being on that list. 

My daughter is very much like me, almost too much at times. Except she's turning out to be an even better version and for that, I am incredibly blessed.

An Open Letter to My Body

Dear Body,

At five feet, three inches, I have broken you, abused you, mutilated you, starved you, and fed you to excess. I have done that and so many more horrible things, and through it all you've stuck by me and have yet to fail me. Instead what you have done is taught me a great deal about myself. You've taught me that no matter the scars I bear, the weight I lose, or the weight I carry, that I am each and every day stunningly beautiful just the way I am. 

You've taught me that even under crushing criticism from others, nothing else matters as long as you and I are together as one and loved as one. I spent too many years battling you instead of working with you, I let others tell me what was "wrong" with you and what I should "fix". I spent years magnifying you under a microscope that wasn't lead by my own heart and mind but instead by the hateful words of others. And for that, I am terribly sorry. 

I know that I will always be too skinny or too fat, I know that I will either be not strong enough or either too strong, and I know that I'll never fit into a mold that will make the person happy who has a voiced opinion; but I will day in and day out from now on love you, I will love you and I will love us together because God has made me so very perfect just the way that I am. 

Whether I am 100 pounds or 150 pounds, because we've been both in the past couple of years and have felt the hate on both ends, I promise to no more repeat the past and treat you so poorly. I will also work my hardest to show my daughter and all young women around me that our beauty standards as women are not defined or limited to the bodies we are born into. Our beauty is defined by how we approach the world, others, and how we treat humanity. Our beauty is within our creativity, our eagerness to learn, and our knowledge to do better in the world. 

I refuse to be influenced by the opinions of others and instead, live my life to the fullest, in the light and out of the shadows. 

Thank you for putting up with me.

Back Alley Hysterectomy

Fair warning - this blog is about "that time of the month", mostly though cramps. 

I got my period when I was 16 and for the next four years, every month was physical hell for me. Let me tell you, I know 16 is on the later side, but knowing what I know now about my body, I'm grateful it took it's time coming. Almost from the very first moment I can remember the searing pain inside, that burning, never relenting, pain that over and over again left me doubled over in pain while heaving my insides out hugging a toilet. One of my very first encounters I can remember laying there, home with my mom, curled up in a fetus position while crying because the pain was so bad; I had no idea that that was just the beginning. After my first year, I finally went to my Doctor and expressed how I simply cannot withstand this kind of pain every month. I was physically knocked off my feet for the first two to three days in pain, I had to tell jobs before they hired me even because even when I tried, I just couldn't function outside of my bed during those times. This was around the same time that I learned the very hard way that if my period was coming, I should not eat rice before the cramps arrive. Let me tell you, throwing up rice is like throwing up a fully formed sponge; literally almost passed out that night from a lack of air when it got stuck coming back up. I was told by my Doctor that I just have a severe case of cramps, told to always use heat and take over the counter pain relievers. WHAT A F#*#ING JOKE! As if that wasn't what I was already doing. I was also told that once I had a baby, the pain from cramps would be drastically different. So at 17 my choices were to deal with them, get pregnant, or my own personal regular request, get a hysterectomy. Yeah, I couldn't get my Doctor to bite on that last one. 

My life continued in those days in between, when I could actually live life and enjoy it. I moved out to Arizona after High School and fell in and out of love. There was one particularly painful month that my cramps came and I can remember being on the phone with my mom after throwing up, the pain was so intense, I was BEGGING her to help me find a way, any Doctor, that would give me a hysterectomy at 18. Being a mother was all I ever wanted to do in life, however I was willing to forego that deepest desire if I could just be done with the month after month torture I was enduring. At the time my boss was dating a girl who I just adored and got along with so well. As we became better friends I told her what was going on, as girls talk about this kind of stuff usually. Come to find out, she too experienced severe cramps and became a brief but almighty savior for me. That same night that I was on the phone begging to my mom for the hysterectomy, I had sent out an SOS to my friend. She often vacationed in Mexico and kept on her, for her own use, an arrangement of pain killers. She started giving them to me to help me get through each months battle. To be completely honest with you, I had zero idea of what I was taking, and I didn't give a damn. Those pills could have killed me, and I wouldn't have cared. The level of desperation that I was at by the time I was 18 was at it's highest, it was pathetic, and it was one more encounter away from a back alley hysterectomy - no joking. As you can see though, I lived, and those pills, those tiny cocktail of relief I popped every month got me through until I moved back to Illinois. 

By 20 I was pregnant! Oh sweet, sweet relief! No period and no cramps for 9 months!!!! Let me tell you I thought I was going to finally feel free even if it was only for 9 months. Oh man, how very wrong I was. Morning sickness became my new enemy, and not just you know a little here and there; we're talking 5 months of throwing up. I tried to tell my OBGYN that I couldn't keep anything down, and his advice was, "I need you to try". As the first trimester ended, and I was still battling morning sickness, it increased - it was becoming all day sickness; three times a days a lot of the time. If I put anything into my stomach, sure as shit, it was going to come back up. Another lesson in throwing up, you will choke to nearly death if a black olive and bread also gets lodged while coming back up. Bad Subway, bad. So back to the Doctor I go and to what a surprise (only if you're a complete idiot), I had lost 8 pounds. Here I am, second trimester in, and I'm losing weight. Then my Doctor finally notices and tells me about a very tiny, over the counter, pill cocktail and within that week, I wasn't throwing up much anymore, once in a blue moon, but I'll take it! What my primary Doctor and I came to learn was that my body doesn't do so well with hormone changes, and by "do so well" I mean tends to freak out to the Nth degree. It's a good thing to be self-aware of, trust me!

Now let's fast forward to last year, because up until last year, my periods were awesome (all things considered). Mood swings of PMS, sure without a doubt, but cramps weren't even a thing and each month everything was done and over with in 4-5 days. Holy shit having a baby worked for my insides like I never knew would be possible! But as promised by my Doctor, they did, without a doubt very slowly start to come back as of last year. 

I started this blog tonight because it's night one of what feels like a rusty, jagged, covered in evil demon, shredding my insides. While the vomiting, thankfully, has yet to return to the playing field, my Doctor is kind enough to prescribe me on the regular both 800 mg Ibuprofen and Vicodin. The cramps are, each month, getting worse and I know it's only a matter of time before even this concoction won't work anymore. So what am I left to do? What am I left to do at 33, when I can't really have anymore kids due to suspected fertility issues, too young to have a hysterectomy besides being refused as a voluntary thing - what do I do with my pain, and my tears, and my frustration?!? Tonight before the Ibuprofen and Vicodin kicked in, I couldn't even get up to go to the bathroom to pee the pain was so crippling; I honestly as a grown ass adult, wondered how long I could withhold peeing just so I wouldn't have to move. I'm now at a tolerable level of pain from cramps but my lower back feels like someone beat me with a crowbar, soon my "drugs" will wear off and for the next several hours, into tomorrow, it will be a steady balance of keeping the pain at bay until come Sunday, everything will be completely done and over with. And then next month, we'll start all over again. 

No one else in my family has anything close to what I deal with, at least not that I know of because no one has spoken about it. My biggest fear is now my daughter, what if she gets them like this too, how will I be able to care for her when after all this time, I'm still figuring out how to battle it myself, what will I do with the overwhelming guilt that I did that to her, I passed that on to her... there is an endless list of thoughts that install the highest levels of anxiety in me because the future of her puberty is still left in the unknown. I did recently see somewhere on Facebook that, of all people, Whoopi Goldberg and a friend have come up with pot infused cramp relief items. Things like bath soaks, lotions; those types of things where it isn't at all just smoking to get high. Now, I've been pot free since I got pregnant and maybe it would be a solution, but there is no way in hell I'm risking that with the way my ex stalks my life looking for reasons to destroy me. I am however highly curious as some people tried the products on camera, and they seemed to really help. These produces too of course, are only available in California (I believe), so there's also another reason why I'll never get to know if they'll help me find a better solution to cope with the hand I've been dealt. 

I am just frustrated by and suffocating under the pain as I try to keep quiet and just deal with it, alone.