It's not like I forgot about you guys or anything....
Ok well shit. Yes, I did. Sorry.
I guess I should start out by saying that the tone of this blog is probably going to completely change because, to be honest, I'm not sure there's much left of the old me anymore. Good or bad thing? I guess I'm letting you guys be the judge of that.
What sparked the change?
I guess a lot of things: my own screw-ups, my own accomplishments, sickness, health, and the fact that my closet got entirely too small.
Where to even begin?
I guess I should start at the part where I royally fucked up two years ago.
It's 2012. I'm pregnant. My "asshole" of a husband decided to get me pregnant, cheat on me with a bunch of hookers, go crazy suicidal, and leave me. Isn't that just a novella in the making? Needless to say, we were getting a divorce and things were getting pretty nasty. I wanted solace. I wanted love. I wanted to not feel like a beached whale. I just wanted to feel alive. I was desperate and hormonal and lonely. Not a good combination.
"GET TO THE POINT"
Right. Sorry.
Anyways, in waltzes my best friend. My confidant. The guy I could count on for anything and everything.
Stupid little me falls in love. Of course. He knew my secrets. He didn't care that I was the human pregnancy blimp. He saw how broken I was, and his hero complex made him want to put me back together. So I let him.
Mistake number one.
Lesson learned: Put your own damn self back together. There is nothing sexy about someone who is so codependent on another person that they cannot have a shred of self-love without verification from someone else. It's not ok.
Well needless to say, my heart ran away with my head and I got in too deep. I was making assumptions and presuming things that weren't the case. I thought we were going to be a happy little family - to replace the one that was torn from me.
Mistake number two.
Lesson learned: YOU CANNOT REPLACE PEOPLE.
Shortly after my kiddo was born, he ghosted. One day, he was all there. Loving, attentive, my knight in shining armor. Next day, gone. Packed up and shipped off to another state too far to visit. Once again, I fell apart. I sunk into so deep of a depression that my family didn't recognize the person right in front of them. But I thought I was just fine. I was ok, right? No big deal, right? I could find another, right?
I should have learned from that experience. I should have known better. I should have realized that I needed time to myself to heal - to get back in touch with myself. I should have realized just how far gone I was. I should have realized that I was at a point of no return.
"Should have"
Yeah, well.... that obviously didn't go so well. I was so deep into my pain that I thought it was joy. I was delusionally hopeful that I could "fix" things on my own at this point. Stupid.
Then waltzed in big, fat and stupid (BFS). He was perfect, or so I thought. He said all the right things at all the right times. He was educated. He was quiet. He was sweet. He was a knight in shining armor and I was a damsel in distress that needed saving.
In reality, I was one desperate bitch at this point. There's no beating around that bush. Really.
Our relationship blossomed. We talked about getting married (my divorce was finally final). We moved in together. We even got drunk-married in Vegas. (Aren't I just the queen of good decisions at this point?) Everything was the definition of perfect... until I started getting the mysterious phone calls.
"Hi, is [BFS] available?"
"Umm yes. May I ask who is calling?"
"Yes, this is So&So Credit Agency... we need to speak to BFS about a financial matter."
*Me feeling all self important* "This is his wife (not really). You can speak to me."
"Ok, well he still has a balance on this account of $5,000 due next week. Can he pay today?"
*Phone drops to floor as I have a panic attack*
"M'am?"
*click*
I really wasn't prepared to deal with that shit.
As it turns out... he owed tens of thousands of dollars in credit card bills. As it turns out... some of those were opened in my name.
That was the beginning of the end. He lied about his education. He lied about his age. He lied about so many things that by the time I uncovered the truth, I realized I was sharing a home with a stranger.
It took a year from start to finish with this guy. I had fucked up. I wasn't careful. I put myself and my kid on this guy's plate as a financial dinner offering.
I fucked up big, and I finally knew it.
So I got out of there. While he was away, I packed up everything and moved out of our house back with my mom (who is a total saint). Everything was in my name. Everything. I could have kept the house and kicked him out, but I knew I wasn't strong enough for that. I barely had the strength to leave. I couldn't waste time thinking myself out of it. For the sake of my kid and myself, I had to go - and I had to go fast.
I ended up turning off all the utilities and turning in the keys to the house the minute I got the last box of my stuff out of there. I rehomed my dogs. I turned in the truck. Everything that tied me to him, I got rid of.
When he came home, it didn't take him long to figure out what had happened. The threatening emails, texts, and phonecalls started. I changed my number. We changed addresses. And then it suddenly stopped.
I fucked up that bad because I was afraid of being alone. That's what it came down to. I wanted to replace my first marriage so badly that I was willing to take the first person that seemed interested.
Going through that though, as terribly self-inflicted as it was, was probably the best thing that ever happened to me. It taught me my biggest weakness and what leads me to my downfalls and fuckups. If I could go back and talk to myself, would I try? I don't know if I would. See, the thing is is that even though I lost everything. Even though I hit rock bottom. In a sick way, I was learning how to be an adult. How to put away the child that I was and to be the strong mother that I needed to be for my kid.
So I moved back home and went on a dating fast. I got help for my demons and I realized that there was more strength in me than I ever knew. I started to explore and discover myself as a woman and a human being. I finished school. I got a meaningful job. I laughed. I cried. I learned. I loved myself.
Coming back from the depths of my breakdown blossomed my soul. I got in touch with myself again. Slowly, but surely, I recognized the girl in the mirror again. But this time, she wasn't a girl. She was a woman - a fighter who bravely fought her way out of the pit she dug for herself.
I had changed. Toughened, yet softened. I let go of my past. I forgave. I rebuilt connections I had lost. I apologized over and over again for my actions until finally, the only person's forgiveness I had yet to receive was my own. That was the hardest part out of my recovery. Once I had clarity to see that damage I had caused, I was consumed by the guilt so much that I almost spiraled downward again., yet I caught myself because this time I WAS DIFFERENT. I WAS STRONG. I finally loved myself and accepted myself for who I was. And ever since, that has made all the difference.
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