Monthly Archives: July 2014
To whom it may concern:
I know that you could be one of two people out to hurt me. And that’s ok. I’ll forgive you, because that’s what people do.
So, to person number one, I’ll start with my most recent person to walk destructively out of my life: Ashley.
You said that I’m a crazy bitch and that I should go kill myself. You think that I called CPS on you, which I would have, had there been enough evidence to support the fact that you neglect that beautiful little girl of yours. You neglect her by letting her sit in shit and piss for at least an hour, if not longer, but you guarantee that she’s dry (even when you can smell her dirty diaper from across the room). You also neglect her by not giving her a bath. There was a whole week that she didn’t get a bath while I was living with you. There are bed bugs and roaches all in your nasty house. They are eating on your baby girl and you’re letting it happen. It’s gross. And your house stinks. It smells kinda like something died in there and you just let it rot. If I had called CPS on you, I definitely wouldn’t have said that you weren’t feeding her, you have food stamps and I know that. You told me that you had gotten more than you ever had. I would have told CPS that you’re not taking care of her, or that you’re five months behind on rent, that’s all. But I didn’t make the call. Because I knew that they wouldn’t find anything, because there’s not enough damage being done. You lie. You lie to everyone. You think that you know more, and that you’re better than anyone else on the planet. You are selfish and conceited. I hope that your marriage works out, and that the baby grows up to be a beautiful woman who doesn’t follow after you. She is going to be an amazing person, as long as she doesn’t follow after your footsteps. There’s a reason people leave you, reasons why all the close friends run away. You’re not a very good friend or a person. And I feel sorry for you.
As for me, I know that I’m crazy, but at least I’m getting help for my crazy. I’m doing better. And since I’m no longer living with you in your filth, I’m calmer and my mind is clearer. As for you calling me a fucking crazy bitch, you’re only doing that because I let Rent – a – center in to take your bedroom set (which, by the way, was infested with bedbugs. They called me to let me know so that I could check my things for bugs too.) You’re mad about rent-a-center and TitleMax taking your things, well maybe you should have paid your bills, or at least went up there to talk to them. You know, most people will work with you when you go to talk to them.
So, to reiterate, I hope you have a happy life with Nathan and the baby. I wish you nothing but the best. And if you don’t like what I write, quit following my blog. You can post mean comments all day long, all you’re doing is making an ass of yourself. Kudos to you for trying to hurt me. But there is no truth in your comment.
To person number two: Justin.
If you’re following my blog, good for you. You walked out of my life, not the other way around. So, if you’re reading, enjoy. Enjoy life, because I”m moving on. And so are you.
I need to be able to turn the page. To close this chapter and move on.
I need to not care what you’re doing anymore. To move on without wondering about you in the back of my mind.
I’m different now than I was before.
I’m not the same person that I was. I’m better.
I don’t have as many panic attacks.
I don’t have as many down swings.
I’m mostly stable now.
I’m finding myself.
Finding out what I need in my life.
At one point, I thought what I needed was you.
You’re nothing but my past now.
Another chapter in history.
You’re not a part of me anymore.
I’m not crazy anymore.
I don’t want to die.
I want to live my life and move on.
But I want to move on with you.
I want to close the door and not look back.
But there are so many good memories that hide there.
You’re nothing to me anymore.
You’re just a dream that I had.
You know that place between sleeping and awake?
That’s where you will always be.
That’s what I need to clean up now.
You can’t be there anymore.
You’re not welcomed here anymore.
You’re nothing but a piece of my history.
Another chapter to be closed.
I love you but I’m letting you go.
One year ago, in two more days, I was hospitalized for my depression. I was suicidal. I had a plan. I was going to take all the pills in the house, drink a bottle of alcohol, and die in my bed with a note that said I was sorry.
I was going to die. I was ready to die. I was sorry that I couldn’t make everyone happy, let alone make myself happy. I was sorry for everything and sorry that I couldn’t make it right.
But I told my counselor. I told someone what I was going to do. And they suggested hospitalization. I cried, for the entire hour I was there. I cried on the way home. I cried while packing. I cried to my best friend. I cried on the way to the clinic to get assessed, and on the way to the hospital. I was scared and worried. But my husband reassured me that this is what would be good for me to do. It wasn’t to harm me, it was to help me.
So, I got to the hospital. Intake took forever. But, Justin was there with me and was calming me, holding my hand and loving me and all my shortcomings. He was my rock when I was in the storm.
The hospital was fine. The first night was scary. I didn’t know what I was supposed to do. They strip-searched me, which was scary and embarrassing, but I didn’t have to do the “squat and cough” thing, because, fortunately for me, I was on my period at the time. I got settled into my room and fell asleep.
The week to follow was great actually. I was pretty much stress free. I saw a doctor everyday and attended group therapy, which was really more of a joke than anything. I was able to call everyone everyday. I missed my friends and family though. I was able to see people Tuesday, Thursday and Saturday.
I guess I knew then that things weren’t right at home. I was gone for a week and I knew that Justin was up to god knows what. We didn’t have much trust, but I was hoping that this was his wake up call. When I got back home, I wasn’t so depressed, until it came time for me to go back to work.
Work was a major stressor. I had panic attacks before and during work. The last night that I worked, I panicked and went home an hour after being there. Justin was pissed that I left early, I was just glad that I was able to go home.
I should have known then that things were different. That things weren’t the same at all, everything was a mess in my marriage. But I looked over it with the thought that he was just stressed out because of my episodes. I never realized how he really felt, because he kept everything so deep down inside of himself. When I asked him if he wanted out, he had said no. We lived like this for months.
It’s crazy how much can change in a year. I was diagnosed with Major Depressive disorder and PTSD in the hospital. My diagnosis has changed to Bipolar II disorder, Borderline personality disorder, and PTSD. I’m getting my medications checked on monthly, I’m attending therapy with my case manager Lisa, and I’m sleeping when my body tells me I’m tired. I am blogging more, whether it’s on here or on my Facebook page. I’m talking to people. I’m taking baby-steps to get back where I was. I’m making huge strides in becoming more self-aware. I am learning what I can handle and what I can’t, learning to put up boundaries for myself and my sanity. I’m learning to take better care of myself, like showering daily (yes, I know that sounds stupid) and washing my face each night. I’m learning to let things go. I’m learning what I want in life.
I’m doing a lot for myself. And I’m taking this time to reflect on my time in the hospital and all the trials that led up to that point. I’m visiting this moment with the knowledge that I am no longer that person that I was a year ago and that’s OK. I realize that I was in a down swing, and it’s ok to have those moments and that I will have more of those moments in the future. The goal is to let those moments pass and know that the sun will rise through the darkest night. I realize that my marriage falling apart wasn’t my fault, and that I did everything I was supposed to. It’s ok to visit these moments and reflect on what they offer, and then we need to move on.
My problem is the moving on part. While I realize it does no good to dwell on the past, my heart is still broken over these events. Eventually, with therapy and support from those I love, I will be able to turn the page from this chapter of my life and move on to the next. I have some faith and hope that things will turn around for me in the future. That I will find the one I’m supposed to be with and love with all my heart. Justin was not a good man for me. And that’s ok that I learned that lesson.
A year ago, I was a different person. It’s time to turn the page.
Recently, Nanny went to her High school reunion. It can bring up a lot of old memories from high school.
I was never the popular girl in school. I was the band geek who hung out with other band geeks. The girl who had her nose in a book, who got good grades and never stepped out of line. Sure, I had love. My first two years at Peaster I had my ex, and then the last years I had Justin.
I always thought that when we had our reunion, I would go back to school with my husband and my children hugging my legs. Now, I think that if I go back, I will see how everyone else has moved on with their lives. Everyone has gotten married and has had babies. And me? I’m sitting here alone blogging.
In a way, I feel less than everyone else. I had it all, except a baby. I had a home, a husband. But here I am, alone.
I’m just saying that it would be nice to go to a reunion with something more than the loneliness I have now.