Category Archives: Life

Pacing


I’ve started pacing again…

Around the house, around the yard, at work… On my days off it’s a lot worse. 

It’s like I can’t relax, I can’t rest. The longer I sit still, the more upset I get. I have to move. I have to do something. 

At work, it’s not so bad. There’s plenty to do, so I just stay busy. But when there’s a lull in how busy it should be, I’m moving. Because I can finally sit, for a minute. But the minute ticks by and I have to move. 

This weekend should have been fun and relaxing. We went to visit a friend. And I was anxious the whole way up there. When we got there I started pacing.  Sitting on the edge of the seat, fidgeting with my hands, pacing again. I finally took an Ativan, it helped a little. I’m having to take them a lot more. 

The same thing happened today. More pacing. Another pill, this time I went and took a nap because I just couldn’t handle it. 

I go to see the doctor Thursday. So I plan on telling her that I’m more anxious. That I’m having to take my emergency pills almost every day. That my sleeping patterns are still off and that I need some kind of help. Something needs to change. I can’t go around feeling like this all the time. 

In Sickness and Health

These are words spoken in wedding vows and they mean so much to me. 

When we got married, I figured that I would be the one with the bad days. Having Bipolar Disorder gives you some ups and downs in life, days where getting out of bed is a feat in itself. But I found someone who has grounded me in safety and security. And when I have a bad day, it’s not as bad as it used to be. 

Now, I take care of him. And some times, it’s not easy to do. Not because I don’t want to do it, I would do anything for him. I would change the world for him if I could. But some times, it’s difficult to watch.

I remember a test that we had to do, to see how his muscles responded to stimuli. No one prepared me, when we took vows, that in sickness and health meant watching a doctor basically torture your husband for a test. A test that he needed, but you could tell that it was painful. 

“In sickness and health”, we really think of the healthy times. I see families together being happy, you don’t want to think about what happens when someone gets sick. And some times people think that sickness means just a simple cold or something. But a medical mystery? That’s something entirely different. 

It’s been an adventure. With the good days and and the bad days, I can tell you that we have taken our vows seriously. We take care of each other. We take turns some times, and some days we take care of each other at the same time. 

They don’t tell you, when you take those vows that you’re going to worry. Or that you’re going to want to know more, that you’re going to try to research everything you can to try and figure this out. They don’t tell you that you’re going to call every doctor several times a week just to get an appointment, or a certain medication refilled, or an MRI scheduled. They don’t tell you all of this.

But they can’t tell you that it makes you stronger. That it makes your marriage better. Love and marriage, sickness and health, it takes work. You have to want to work on it – I’ve seen illness tear people apart. But, for us, I feel like this adventure has made us stronger and made us love each other better. 

I know in my heart that I love my husband more and more every day. I want to be with him and take care of him, no matter where this takes us. I want to grow our family together. This has brought us closer than I ever thought possible.

To my husband, I am so proud of you for being you. For waking up each day and fighting your battle. For loving me like you do. You are an amazing man with such strength, we can only keep going from here. Together, we will make it through this. You give me courage and strength when I need it. I will always be here for you. I’m proud of all of your accomplishments. I love you to the moon and back, Siempre por Siempre.

Closed Door

So, from the past two posts, you can tell that I tried opening the door to a relationship with my legal mother. As expected, it didn’t go well. 

For the first couple of weeks, it was great. We tried to catch up. But, like I said in my last post, it was awkward. Things with her felt forced. Well, I guess now I don’t have to worry about it.

I tried to take a break from it, to see what I wanted to do. I wasn’t sure what I wanted out of the relationship. Did I really want to drag myself down the rabbit hole again? Trying to please this woman is damn near impossible, or at least it was when I was growing up. It felt like nothing I did ever made her happy, you know? Straight a’s in school weren’t good enough, working full time in high school wasn’t good enough, doing extra cirriculars wasn’t good enough, the kitchen wasn’t cleaned good enough. It just felt like nothing I ever did was enough for her. And it’s sad really. I don’t think that I was a bad kid. I didn’t do the things that you see on the movies, where kids sneek out and go to parties, drink and do drugs, get pregnant. I was on the honor roll, National Honors Society, student counsil at one point. I mean, I did what I was supposed to do. 

So, when things went crazy, that’s when I started to veer off the path. When Donna tried to kill herself back in 2010 and had to be hospitalized, I started drinking. I started smoking cigarettes. And while she was there, that’s when I found out that she had legally adopted me. I had visited with her every day the first week she was there. I missed a week of school so I could be there. I missed all my classes (I was in college at that point) for a week, just so I could be with her, supporting her. But then, they moved her to the state hospital, and that’s a four hour drive from my dorm. And I had to get back to class. I didn’t visit, but I called every day, until they switched units and no one told me how to get ahold of her. I did go to see her one time, it was after I found out about the adoption. I remember her being mad that I found out, she was screaming. She told me to get out. 

No matter how many times I keep trying to tell her that things never had to change, she’s the one who keeps changing them. Maybe because she doesn’t like that I’m stronger willed than she anticipated. I don’t bow to anyone anymore. Certainly not her. When she got home from the hospital, she slammed the door in my face and threatened to call the cops on me. I’ve tried reaching out to her since then, but we always come back to this issue here. The adoption and the fact that I found out. 

The last time I reached out to her, we talked for a few days and it blew up in my face. I crumpled a little. This time, I’m not crumpling. I expected it. I anticipated the fall out, I knew it was coming before it happened. Now, well now I’m just mad. 

I’m mad that I put myself out there again. I knew that nothing was going to come of this, yet I got my hopes up that things would be different this time around. That enough time had passed and she had changed. But she’s really just the same. 

This time, she said that I have no respect for her. And to be quite honest. I don’t. I can’t respect someone who walked out on me like she did. I was trying to have a relationship with her, trying to love her again. I was willing to let go of everything and start over for us. But that’s not going to happen.

She lives in a world that she has created. She believes every lie she has ever told. She believes that I was told things about her, instead of what I have experienced with her. I guess she forgot that I grew up with her. She wants to control who I have in my life, and I’m not about to have that happen again. 

Things just got out of hand again. Did I say some mean things, yes. But it was the truth. And some times the truth can hurt. I know when I’ve been told the truth about me, my actions, some of those truths hurt. 

I just wanted to try to have a relationship. I opened a door so that, in the event that something bad happens to her, I would have the closure I needed. But it blew up in my face. And she has the audacity to say that she feels sorry for me! 

I’m not trying to get any sympathy or anything, just simply venting at this point. I told her at the beginning, this was the last time I would try to have a relationship with her. Because there’s no point. If she closes the door again, I’m not wasting anymore of my time. And she closed the door. She runs away from problems, like I used to do. 

In all honesty, I hope that she gets help, because she needs therapy. I had hoped that we could get a relationship off the ground, a genuine relationship. But I’m not going to be told what I can and can’t do, who I can and can’t love. I’m an adult, not some small child that you can bully into doing what you want with guilt (her favorite trick). 

I wish it wasn’t going to be this way. But I feel like, I tried, it failed. My message was delievered. Whether she accepts that message is up to her.

Sorry, readers for the long bitchy post. 

Conflicting Emotions

So, remember when I told you I was talking to my legal mother again and I was happy about it? Now, I’m not so sure.

There are so many emotions going on, I’m not so sure what I’m feeling.

I’m happy that we’re talking again. It feels like we’ve picked up missing pieces and are having a nice time catching up. I have missed her… So I should be happy, right?

But I feel like I have to be guarded too, because I don’t want to get hurt again. Because I know how she’s been in the past, I don’t want to be manipulated… I don’t want her to walk out of my life again, and I guess I’m preparing myself for her departure. I feel like, if/when she leaves I might be crushed again, even though I’m telling myself that I don’t need her and that I haven’t needed her for the past 7 years. So I should be prepared for her to walk away.

I feel like she’s pushing me to do things that I’m not ready for yet…. Like she wants to come see me. I don’t want her to know where I live. I’m not ready for her to know where I live. She knows the area that I live in, but not my address. If we were to see each other, I would want to meet somewhere that’s neutral or something. And she wants me, so badly, to call her mom. And, really, she’s not my mom. I mean, legally, yes, she is. But in my heart… No. She hasn’t been my mom. She lost the title when she literally slammed the door in my face so long ago. Even when I had reached out to her years ago, she kept shutting me out, and didn’t want to have anything to do with me. So, no, she’s not my mom. My Momma is a strong woman who’s been with me my entire life and didn’t leave me when things got hard. She has helped me keep going when my life got hard, stood by me during my divorce, and walked me down the aisle to the man of my dreams. That’s my mom. Donna, my legal mother…. Is just that…. She’s just legally my mother… And anyone can be a mother. It takes great strength and patience and LOVE to be a mom.

I feel bad for not wanting to call her mom. I do. But then by talking to her, I feel like I’m betraying my mom! The one who’s been there with me through everything. And I’ve talked with my mom about this, she said that I’m fine. She wants me to have a relationship with Donna, because she’s always wanted me to have a relationship with Donna. Things never should have changed when I found out I was adopted. I was just supposed to have two moms, you know how cool is that? To find out that one of your best friends happens to be your biological mother? Yes, I was mad about the fact that it was kept a secret. But I was going to have two moms. But now, I have the best mom in the world. But this new relationship with Donna makes me feel like I’m straining everything, and it’s barely a week old.

I told Donna that I forgave her. Which was the entire point of this venture, to let her know that I forgive her for everything that happened and that I don’t hate her. She has cancer and I still don’t know if she is going to die or not… So I wanted her to know that, at least. I never expected to get a response, let alone have a conversation with her. Or video chat with her. But it’s going so fast and I don’t know how to slow it down. I don’t do slow, I go at 100 mph!

Maybe this whole thing was a mistake, because now, I just feel so confused, I don’t know what to do with it. I feel like I brought home a new puppy and I’m face palming and saying “now what?” Because I really don’t know what to do with this. I don’t know if I want a relationship, I didn’t expect one. I had hoped for one, but now…. Now, I’m not sure.

I’m afraid. Afraid of being hurt, afraid of making her angry. All the fears from my childhood are rearing their ugly heads and I’m scared. I’m an adult. But I don’t know how to act around her. I still tiptoe around the conversation. But having a conversation with her makes her happy. Am I doomed to repeat the last 19 years of my life with her if I continue down this path? Tiptoeing around subjects, hoping not to piss her off? I mean, I planned on setting boundaries. But now that I’ve stepped back for a moment, I see that my boundaries are simply me avoiding subjects!

Then, she acts like we had this perfect relationship when I was younger. Our relationship was stormy, at best when I was younger. I think the best time we ever has was when I was 5. And then it got a little better when I went off to college, but she acts like there was never anything wrong. Like she did nothing wrong. And she tried to blame Mom for everything that happened. And she was still mad that I found out about the adoption? So I countered, I mean, I was bound to find out anyway, the ENTIRE WORLD KNEW BUT ME!

I just don’t know how to handle this one. I got myself in a pickle this time. I want to have a relationship, but at the same time I want to sabotage the whole thing so I don’t have to talk to her to save myself the heartache. What do I do? I’m so confused.