Part 8 – Mornings

After 26 years I finally realized why I hate mornings. 

I hate mornings because the hardest part of waking up is remembering everything that I spent all day trying to forget. 

Forgetting the way that you touched me. Forgetting the way that you held me. Forgetting the way it felt when you kissed me. Forgetting your voice, your laugh, your smile, and all your perfect imperfections.

I will never hear you say that you love me again. I will never feel your warmth beside me. I will never be able to experience all of the things that I try to forget every day ever again.

Never. It is so hard to Envision that never is actually a lifetime. Never is not nothing, never is ever again in my lifetime. Saying never is just as powerful of a way to express time as forever. Just as permanent but so much more destructive.

I spend all day trying to forget what never means. By the end of every night I am able to convince myself that never is an unfair measurement of time. I am able to convince myself that nobody can predict the future and you have no idea what the future holds. But every single morning the word never comes back to my mind. It consumes my body and drowns me.

I tell people that I hate mornings because I just really love sleep. But in reality I hate mornings because I remember that never is actually possible. Nevers happen all the time. You will never step in the same spot twice, you’ll never get hit by the same wave, you’ll never get to go back in time. You can never bring someone back from the dead. You will never be able to make someone else love you. And you will never be able to fix what happened.

I don’t understand how someone can say never. How can someone guarantee such a permanent period of time? How can someone never want to see or hear from you ever again in their life? How can they promise that? How can never be forever….

Every morning starts off with an anxiety attack. It is awful. I never have a new day starting happy and feeling refreshed. I never have a chance at starting my day off right because I wake up sweating, heart pounding, feeling nervous and anxious, not feeling good enough. I wake up miserable. Every single day.

When I was with you I never wanted night to come. Now that I’m not, I never want the morning to come. Every morning is a reminder of mine and your ‘forever never’.


Part 7 – Broken Promises

So far I have discussed Ex 2 and bypassed Ex 1. I’m going to continue to bypass him and discuss Ex 3.

If you recall the one blog I wrote about my current state (yes I’m still pregnant), the man involved is Ex 3. Ex 3 is a widow. He is only 35 years old. I met him 3 months after Ex 2 had left the picture. It’s been basically a year now that he has been in my life. I haven’t yet decided if this is a good thing or not.

As it is with every new relationship, the beginning was perfect. I wasn’t even looking for a relationship at the time. Hell, I wasn’t even the slightest bit attracted to him in any way when we started talking. At first we were connected through a mutual friend who thought we could help heal each other and just be that support that the other needed. Him and I agreed that nothing would ever transpire between the two of us. As time went on I saw into his beautiful soul. The man that I never even considered dating became so important to me. I couldn’t help but fall for him. He was amazing. He said all of the right things at the right time. Based on my past, I know better than to believe just words. But even his actions were perfect. They spoke all the words that we couldn’t find to say to each other. Soon we decided we would date, but keep it on the downlow as he had his burdens to bare, and I had mine. Perhaps this was our mistake.

As time went on I thought things would start coming out and the pictures he had up would slowly start to go away. That’s the thing about expectations. They kill you from the inside. As they didn’t start progressing, I started regressing to my past. All my insecurities and trust issues came to surface. That’s when he started shutting down. 

The fire that burned so bright and so quickly, was put out like it was just a matchstick in the rain. All of the good times and things he said, soon meant nothing to him. I still cling to those moments. I think it’s harder for me because once I get involved, I give it my all. So I did and now I can’t take it back. I can’t stop myself from still being in love with him. 

I blame myself for a lot of it. Sure, he has his parts in this. For example, him shutting me out, more pictures going up instead of coming down, he became secretive and started hiding things…. the biggest thing is that he said he doesn’t love me anymore. 

I remember the first time he said he loved me like it happened yesterday. We were sitting in his basement watching a movie. I was telling him how I wasn’t ready for anything serious and that I needed more reassurance. Thats when he grabbed my hips and pulled me closer to him. He held me as he looked deep into my eyes, as if he could see my pain and said “I love you. How is that for reassurance? I love you.” He gave me the cutest smile and kissed me. 

Now to today, he says things like “I don’t love you anymore”, “You’re like heroine” (when I asked what that meant, he wasn’t talking about me as a person, purely having sex with me), he’s upset because “the baby is with me” meaning not with her…. how can someone go from saying that “I’ll take all the bad for the good. We deserve to be together and make each other this happy. Nothing good comes easy.”, to “we will never date again, you need to just let me go.” 

The main reason I had in my head for never wanting to date him was that I knew he was a widow and I did not want to be the first “tester” into the dating world. He spent 2 months convincing me that that was not the case. I fell for it. And now we’re here. He told me the other day that it was different back then, he thought he was ready but he was wrong. 

How can you make such promises to me and break them? I told you how fragile my heart was and how I never wanted to date because I can’t take it anymore. How can you run that risk when I told you my heart and mind cannot handle it? How could you break me like this?

The biggest painful memory that I caused that I can remember is on day I slept over at his house on a work night. That morning we got ready as usual and got to our cars in his driveway ready to leave. He looked at me and said “have a great great, I love you.” I looked at him, smiled and simply said “have a great day”, got in my car and drove away. This was 3 months after us dating. That night we got together and I told him I was not in love with him anymore. Why would I say that? I am STILL so in love with him. 

That’s the kicker, I don’t believe that he doesn’t love me because he simply fell out of love with me. He doesn’t love me anymore because I told him I didn’t love him anymore. He doesn’t love me because I lied to him. I lost a great man, over fear and pride. 

He’s a very logical thinker and has a great ability to let his mind take over and block out all thoughts. And that’s just what he’s done. He’s blocked me out. Hes also a Virgo. Yes, I follow signs. Virgos are so unbelievably logical and stubborn. He will never come back. 

We’ve also decided that it’s best that I don’t keep the baby. The first person to put anything negative in my comments…. well no threats here, let’s just try to not be judgemental of me and bring me down. The reason we have chosen this is simply because it will never work. We will have a messy, difficult time. He doesn’t want it and wants to be out of my life. He would be in the child’s life if we kept it, but he would fight for it to be with him and not me. That’s what he said, I’m not throwing around assumptions. It would be 18 years of absolute hell. He has been supportive through the process but deep down I know it is all manipulation to ensure I go through with the process (as this is not what I wanted to do at all) and to make sure I’m out of his life as quickly and as quietly as possible. Just a ploy to get his way. 

I struggle with how we went from where we were, to where we are now. Sometimes I don’t believe that it’s over. It can’t be. We still hang out and talk every day…. But I have to remember it’s just for sex and for him to get his way. He told me numerous times that he regrets not just leaving fully back in December. He doesn’t want me. He doesn’t love me. He wants, and he loves, her. Not me. It will never be me.

How can I be hurting so bad over losing someone…. who honestly, was never mine. I never stood a chance. Even if I was perfect the whole way through, we still would have ended up here. I should have listened to my gut. I knew better. But I fell for it.

Thank You, Ex. 3, for all your broken and empty promises. 

Part 6 – Abuse

Excuse me while I jump around my life.

Abuse. There are so many forms in which this can  take place. There is verbal, mental, physical and sexual. There may or may not be more. But these are the ones I am going to focus on. Why? Because these are the ones I’ve experienced.

Where to start. Lets go to one of the more painful and confusing ones. Going back to a previous blog where I stated I was raped by my ex boyfriend (we will call him Ex 2). I didnt know at the time that you could be raped by someone you were dating. I didn’t know until I was telling my therapist a story and he asked me, “so he raped you?”. My immediate response was “no, we were dating” and then he explained to me that I was in fact raped. It took me a very long time to come to grips with that. Actually, I still don’t know if I have fully emmoted to it yet. To think that someone that you love with all your heart could do this…. it’s just unfathomable.

It all starts with manipulation. They start with mental and emotional abuse. Telling you that you just are not good enough. You won’t survive without them. They deserve better. You aren’t worthy of them. The name calling, belittling, insulting, accusations…. they will say so many things about you because the truth of the insult lies in them and they need someone else to put the blame on. Heaven forbid they admit their own short comings.

They make you feel like you need them. And no matter how clear your mind was at the start, you eventually believe them. Why? Because of this powerful drug called love. The most powerful and self destructive drug out there. Love, the most prominent form of self destruction. The only thing that will make you completely vulnerable that you fall to your knees and beg for more. It’s so satisfying. But this kind of vulnerability in the wrong hands can kill you.

They control your every action, and thought. They need to know everything. They never believe you. All of the things that stem from their own guilt. It’s just…. horrible.

My home, out of all other places in the world, should be my safe place. He took that from me. Ex 2 had taken the only place that I can go to in order to feel safe and warm. That one place without fear or judgement. My place is gone. I haven’t slept in my bedroom for basically a year now. I sleep on my couch, when I can sleep that is. On average I get about 3 hours of sleep a night.

The one person that was supposed to be by my side, become my best friend, be my better half….destroyed me. How could he? How dare he punch me, choke me out, break almost everything I own and let’s not forget about the hot sauce sprayed in my face. He almost broke my arm. I had numerous bruises, fat lips and black eyes. Not to mention the mental and emotional damage done.

Don’t get me wrong, there were so many times I told myself nobody deserved this. But I stayed anyways. Maybe I’m hopes of him changing  (typical I know). I cried myself to sleep so many times I can’t even count.

He destroyed me is all I can say over and over again. Took away so many opportunities. So many good times. He stole my happiness. There were times when I was driving in my car and I would have to take a picture of every area of my car to prove I was alone. Get this, he still didn’t believe me, he’d say the person was just hopping around my car to avoid the picture. If I wasn’t talking to him 24/7 I was cheating on him. Which I eventually learned came from his own guilty conscience because he cheated on me almost every day. But I never dared to tell him that in fear of another punishment. He would tell me how awful I was and rude…. I was manipulative and a liar. He even told me he wanted me to kill myself. He tracked my spending and if it looked like I might have bought even just an extra coffee, then that was it. I was cheating. And when I went home, I got it. The yelling, name calling, hitting…. He broke 6 of my phones in less than a year….
I was living a nightmare. I didn’t know where to go or who to turn to. Sure, calling the cops is an easy answer to throw out there, but when you’re in the situation it is NOT that easy, especially when He implants the fear of making you lose your child. That’s right, he threatened to have her take from me. He brought me to a new level of low. My trust in humanity was gone. I had no hope for me or my future. All I knew at the time was that I loved him and that he would go back to the man he was at the beginning. It kept getting worse. I wasn’t allowed around my family, I couldn’t laugh with my daughter without him thinking I was plotting against him…. I was stuck. Even grocery shopping I was put on a time limit. And heaven forbid my bathroom breaks or showers take longer than they should.

One minute we were perfectly fine in our loving bliss, the next…. Well it was just the exact opposite. I don’t even know what set him off sometimes. If my phone made a sound, if someone called my house, if someone (even a female or my family) said they missed Me, if I was tired, if I didn’t want to have sex…. literally anything at all. It still hurts. It’s been a year. I still struggle with where it went wrong and why. And I will never understand how I wasn’t good enough to keep him happy.

The old saying “sticks and stones may break my bones but words will never hurt me” has never been more wrong. Words hurt. They almost killed me.

Even his apologies, yes he tried to apologize, were empty and more often than not were followed with his reasoning, which of course were my fault. The worst part? I believed it. And I was the one apologizing in the end. He raped me, hit me, pushed and shoved and punched…. All the names…. And I apologized.

Out of all the times he forced sex on me, I ended up getting pregnant. Because he didn’t want to use protection. Because then that meant I didn’t trust him. After all that, he made me get an abortion because he didn’t want to be stuck with me…. the other reason that he flat out admitted to was that he didn’t want to have to stop cheating on me. I still have a hard time handling that.

This is abuse.

In case you haven’t followed my other blogs, yes I got out. I kicked him out actually. But don’t be proud of me, I begged for him to come back. For months. I was lost. I didn’t know what to do. I still hid my phone, my stuff, my money…. I looked over my shoulders for almost 4 months. Actually, that’s a lie. Sometimes I still do.

It hasn’t gone away…. will it ever go away?

Part 5 – Depression 

I’m going to circle back to my very first blog.

The picture shown is my thinking spot. It’s where I collect my feelings and try to figure them out.

It’s a daily struggle to even want to get up in the morning, let alone having to function. You know, get showered, dressed, go to work, be a mom…. But every day I do it all. It’s like a sick spell that casts over you. One minute you could be fine. And the next you’re just shut off. It’s difficult to explain. It could take just a minute to get over, or months. And there’s no real antidote to fix it. You just want to hide. Not speak to anyone, not go anywhere. You just stop caring about everything. You have this pit in your stomach and a hole in your heart. Sometimes you know what triggers it, other times you dont.

My explanation may be a bit off only because I have other contributing factors. As mentioned I have OCD, PTSD and anxiety. Most days I just feel beat down.

“What’s wrong” is something I hear way more than I should. It’s always so difficult to answer that question. It got to a point where I just have been saying that I haven’t been sleeping well. It’s either that or I’d have to take time to explain to people that sometimes I just don’t know what’s wrong, and other times I feel like they wouldn’t understand. Even my best friend, I tell her almost everything. And every now and then I feel like I’m just a broken record and all I do is complain. She says she doesn’t mind, but come on, even I don’t want to hear myself anymore. But yet, I have to get up every day and be a working mom. I’m also a single mom so it’s not like I get sick days or days where I can just pass off house work and parent duties to my spouse. I know my daughter can tell when I’m having an off day. I’ve never told her, but when I feel down and out, she’s more attentive and sometimes asks if we can just snuggle.

I have suffered with depression for as long as I can remember. But I know it’s gotten worse since my abusive relationship (watch for my next blog), and even more so since the most recent ex (soon to be coming blog). It seems like everyone I have let in my life has left me and let me down. Everyone is so quick to say that they will be there for me and support me, but as soon as I let them in, I prove to myself why I was right in the first place to shut them out. It’s not like I let my guard down easily either. So they take so much time trying to break down my walls. It’s like a game to them, or so it seems.

Trust is not something that I give away easily. So it affects me so much when I finally trust people to be shown I was right all along. Especially when I tell them some of my past. Not only do I have to relive it at that moment, but after they leave it hurts so much more. But I don’t want to be one of those people that just gives up on love. I wholeheartedly want to believe it in. That love that people conquer the world with. But perhaps it’s just a pipedream. Anyways.

Depression is a daily struggle. And it requires a lot of patience from everyone involved. When I told my mom I suffered from depression, she told me to get over myself she had it first and said “how do you think I feel.” Words I never wanted to hear from my mother. She’s also an alcoholic so the 2 don’t mix well.

When you’re depressed, things just don’t make sense. And the smallest things hurt you. You never feel satisfied. How sad is that, that some people never feel satisfied in their life no matter how many things “go right” in their life. There’s always something to kick you down. It’s a slump that is sometimes so difficult to get out of. I wish so much that there was a quick fix. It’s draining to have all motivation, hope and excitement gone. All happiness washed away. Sometimes you can’t help but think if there will ever be an end to the madness. It’s just a constant voice inside your head bringing you down in everything you do. Not to mention the daily life struggles you feel.

And yet, you put on a smile and face every day…. if anyone out there ever needs an ear, someone to listen without judgement, please talk to me. I understand and I will be there for you if nobody else will. Everyone needs that reminder.

Part 4 – Suicide

Going with my previous blog, I’m about to blog about a very controversial topic. Bearing in mind that my opinion surrounding this topic is very…. unique we will say.

DAMAGE CONTROL! I do not expect you to understand or agree in the slightest. But I do expect that comments remain constructive and not insulting.

Can you imagine feeling like there is no other possible way to fix your life other than just ending it entirely? I’ve been there if you haven’t and let me tell you, it’s the worst possible feeling. Actually. One worse feeling is when you try to complete it, and fail. My exact thoughts when that happened to me were, “I can’t even kill myself right”. By no means am I saying these were healthy thoughts. They weren’t at all. I’m just telling it as how it was at the time.

I’m also going to throw out a point many of you may disagree with, but hear me out. Everyone says that suicide is the cowards way out. I believe that if you have the ability to carry out the act of suicide that you have so much “strength” and control it is unbelievable. Now I don’t mean strength as some of you may be taking it. But to carry out such a powerful and irreversible act, like, I have a hard time carrying out the smallest of tasks….

And I’m going to clear the air by saying it is not a sign of weakness. What it is, is a sign of illness. I suffered from feeling suicidal myself. It’s not easy and the last thing people with these thoughts need is more labels added to them. Wanna hear something sick? When I was younger, maybe 13, I had an addiction to cutting. Disgusting right? But at the time, it showed me physical pain. It showed me I was still alive enough to bleed. And the pain was like an adrenaline rush. I couldn’t get enough. And I learned new places every day to do it so people wouldn’t see. It’s not right, I know this now. At the time though, I didn’t.

When people experience these thoughts, they aren’t typically looking for “an easy out”. Instead they feel like such a constant burden. They feel like nothing they do is ever good enough for anything or anyone. They get sick of going to people with their problems to only be told things like “other people have it worse” or “It’s just a stage you’re going through” or “you’ll be fine. Give it time” or the ever so famous “your life is great, stop being so negative and look at the positive things in your life”. Honestly, if it was that easy for us to see the positive things, don’t you think we would be doing that already? Do you think we enjoy feeling like this? Because we sure as hell don’t. But I remember being so enthralled with all the different ways I could come up with to just do it. Get it over and done with.

I know that there are much better and healthier methods. But what everyone fails to understand is at the time, the thoughts in their minds are so confusing and clouded that people just don’t see them. Instead of judging them and trying to give advice, because let’s face it, nobody wants advice when they feel like that, try listening and understanding. When they come to you, grab their hand and tell them that you understand and you’re there for them. Give them a hug. Hold them and let them cry it out. And for crying out loud, don’t start talking about yourself. Even if you’re trying to show them you’ve gone through it, all you’re doing is shifting the focus and they won’t want to talk about it anymore. They will feel guilty, shut out and insignificant. It’s so hard to talk to people when you feel like that to begin with. Then when you start changing the topic away from them, they again feel like they don’t matter and they feel it’s better not to talk about it. They feel like they finally opened up to someone, to feel like their thoughts and feelings just don’t matter.

I’m not trying to speak for everyone. And I’m not trying to reason with suicide. But we need to do our part to keep our loved ones with us. We need to show support.

I remember the first time my parents caught me cutting myself. They were pissed. They grounded me. Do you think that helped? It didn’t. And then they suffocated me. I understand what they were trying to accomplish, but instead it backfired and that’s when I got more clever about it.

Suicide is a horrible thing for everyone involved. But the people with these thoughts feel afraid and beaten down and just plain depressed. Let’s show love instead of judgement. We need to focus more on building each other up instead of trying to analyse people’s thought process and trying to diagnose them. That’s not our job as their friends and family. That’s their therapists job. Our job is to show unconditional love and support. Through it all. Let them know you’re there to listen with no judgement and that they have a safe place with you.

Part 3 – Karma

I just want to take a minute to let everyone know that everything I post is my opinion and my opinion only. I don’t try to force it on anyone, in fact I encourage everyone to have their own opinion.

I got a letter sent home from my daughter’s school the other day stating why “13 Reasons Why” shouldn’t be encouraged to watch at home. Clearly the people that came up with this letter have never faced bullying or sexual harassment. This show by no means was meant to ‘glorify suicide’ or ‘romantize suicide’ or even to make her look like a hero for carrying out the act. It’s about bringing awareness to bullying and the consequences of it. It’s to teach people that for every action there will always be a reaction, and sometimes, it’s just not a god damn positive one. Congratulations on shutting down awareness on such an already taboo subject (note the sarcasm in saying that).

I understand discretion needs to be taken and I’m not saying the show is perfect and everyone should watch it, but to say “it’s a fictional drama with many unrealistic elements”, like no, this shit is real and it happens. People need to know about suicide, the signs, the impact and everything surrounding it.

Again, I will emphasize that I understand this show is not meant for everyone and we do need to clarify that there are other alternatives, but why add more taboo on this subject and take away from the meaning and lessons behind it?

Now, as to why this blog is entitled karma…. I will admit that when I was in grade school, I was a bully. Now I didn’t go stealing people’s lunch money or shoving them in lockers or anything. But there was this one girl that I didn’t didn’t like, and to be completely honest, I had no reason not to other than I simply thought I was better than her. I was so rude to her and continuously made fun of her. I tried to make sure nobody would associate with her without being shunned by everyone else. This still haunts me to this day. I never realized how it impacted her, until one day, I got what was coming.

Note, this girl is doing fantastic in life and I’m so happy for her. And I have apologized for my wrong doings. Just to clear the air. And had she done what was portrayed in this show, well to be honest, I probably wouldn’t be living anymore myself.

In high school, I was bullied. For all 4 years. I was a wreck. I ended up becoming suicidal. I started becoming bulimic and I hated myself. Every aspect of myself. But my karma didn’t end there. I still feel like I am paying for what I did to this girl. The bullying stopped when I went into university. But from there my karma came in the form of many abusive relationships. Most recently, one where I was abused physically, emotionally, mentally and sexually. Did you know you can be raped by your spouse? I for one didn’t until recently. But thats a story for a different day.

The point I’m trying to make, is if we keep suicide being so hush hush, bullying will never stop. Now, I’ll clarify that I know suicide is not only carried out by people in high school being bullied. But I think it’s a good starting point for breaking the silence.

And for the record, being so low that you feel the only way out is suicide, that’s a feeling nobody should live with. And for myself, I never did carry it out obviously, but sometimes I do still think about it. It’s a sickness and people need to understand that by treating people poorly, it will never go away for that person. The damage will never fully be undone. And I for one, stand by ’13 Reasons Why’ especially after being on both ends of the spectrum and every where in between.

Part 2 – Reality 

As mentioned in my previous post, I have a beautiful daughter. She’s 6 years old now. I had her young, I was 19. The bond between her and I is surreal.

At that time in my life, I was in 1st year university living the typical university life. I had only been dating her father for about 6 months. BOOM. I’m pregnant. Now I didn’t realize at the time how well him and I had both handled the situation until current day.

I remember the day I found out…. it was spitting outside just enough to annoy you. I had just taken 4 pregnancy tests in the Wal-Mart washroom and decided to go to the walk in clinic to verify that both bright pink lines on all 4 tests meant the same thing, knowing damn well it did. Upon hearing the news that I was in fact pregnant I proceeded to call her father. At that time he was shocked yes and worried, but didn’t fail to comfort me and tell me him and I would work it out together. We tried for 6 years after that. Unfortunately it just didn’t work.

Why does this matter?

Fast forward to right now. Like this very second. I’m currently writing this in a walk in clinic waiting room. I just had 4 positive tests and am awaiting the official confirmation.

Why is this time different?

Well my current “relationship” is all kinds of fucked up. He is a young widow. I was recently out of a very abusive relationship (that’s a story for a different day). Things were great until they just werent. Some may say he just wasn’t over her, others that we just weren’t meant to be. Fact Is, I’ll never know the truth, nor do I think I want to.

I was in love. Over the moon. He was the best man I have ever been with. When he broke up with me 4 months ago, I was devastated to say the least. Now as pathetic as this is, I needed to have him in my life in which ever way I could. Even if that meant just having sex with him.

I told him last week I had the suspicion. Big mistake.  He went crazy thinking he wasn’t ready, he had to move, he didn’t want to be in the babys life.  Then yesterday I found out the truth. It’s only because the baby was with me. And not her. I was crushed. But last night he messaged me saying we needed talk. So we talked and he said he was wrong and sorry and he wanted to be in the babys life. Well I thought this could be my window. So I asked of we could try again. The answer of course was “I never want to date you again.”

Back to today. In this waiting room. Waiting to find out if I’m pregnant with his baby. I can’t help but compare how different they handled it and how someone who was 19, completely irresponsible and broke handled it so much better than a 34 year old man who has his life completely together. In hindsight, these two story’s I would have expected to go the complete opposite way.

Take note, my daughter’s father and do not get a long whatsoever and there is a lot of drama currently with him. So I am in no way defending him. But that’s a story for a different day.