So there is obviously a giant chunk of time in between postings here. I went off the grid for about a year and it's been slow reconnecting to my online parts since then. 2012 ended up being the worst year of my life. Actually, ever since turning 25 my life has kind of taken a really horrible rip tide south and I'm in the thick of it trying to climb back on top. It hasn't been fun, I'm in no good place by all means, but I'm trying my damndest to feel like I'm where I should be in my life. Christ, I'm 27, I should probably act like it.
After my father-in-law passed away I went to a really ugly place. I pushed people away, took a really scary dip into depression, considered institutionalizing myself (seriously), and then got slapped in the face that because of my antics I was actually in danger of losing everything. So I did what any other twenty something does when they are facing a life crisis-they call their parents. My relationship was put on hold and I went "home" (I use that term loosely) to get better. I went to the doctor, started seeing a therapist, and basically spent time with my family to try and work shit out. You would think I would have started going on the up and up after 2 months of that, but instead I took a sharp left and ended up in yet another situation entirely.
Turns out all the abuse I experienced as a teenager came back gradually and suddenly. I was working things out with my relationship, but my family life was in the toilet and actually starting to scare me. I would lash out at my mom and my dad in ways I didn't even knew I could and had a horrible falling out with my sister. I don't know what happened to her, but it's like ever since she left high school she's turned into a disgusting bitch who just sucks joy out of everything. Maybe it's because she's started dating, maybe it's because of the pressures of living at home and not having me there anymore, but holy shit, that girl is fucking crazy and mean. I don't understand for the life of me why she has to hate on me as hard as she does, but it hurts. We used to be partners in crime and now she wants to make sure people NEVER EVER confuse us. It's now all a competition. Who's aging better, who's more successful, who has the better boyfriend/living situation/car/lifestyle/friends/clothes/etc. I didn't know it was like that until she decided she had nothing good to say about my relationship and felt like she could have a loose mouth about it in front of me. But God forbid I speak my mind about any of her life choices. What's worse is that whenever I have tried to confide in her and not be judged, she now openly and insultingly judges me. I don't know why she thinks that's okay, but she's done it so often that I've just given up even trying to talk to her about anything.
My boyfriend, after having a solid and promising job after my leave of absence, took a few days off in order to come and rescue me from my family. Literally. And also mediated some kind of makeup so that I didn't burn any bridges. He put a lot at risk just to do that, but once I returned, things were in an astoundingly MUCH better place. I was still getting therapy and sorting out the home life. Things were actually great.
Until it all fell apart.
And that's when I went off the grid. And legal components happened. I won't post the details on here since it's an open case still, but it involved my boyfriend and it was scary and I lost EVERYTHING. I lost my home, my possessions, my car, everything. The guy rooming with us stole everything of value, and also some weird things (like my lingerie-seriously?). I took whatever I was able to salvage to my parents, but that's when things hit a tipping point and I walked out of their house and left literally all that was left but the clothes on my back and my dog in December.
For a month I slept on the floor of a dirty bar/club with my dog. Then a week at some random drug dealer's basement on a leaky air mattress. Then I thought I had reached salvation when one of my best friends invited me to her home in Myrtle Beach.
I also was given an annuity pay out from my late grandfather. It all seemed like God was telling me this was my ticket to start over, explore my options and settle in to something. Boy, did I fuck that up. I was stupid and thought I should really help out my friend since she opened her home to me. She and her husband have three kids, so I fed them. And groceries down south are NOT cheap. My lord, her grocery bill was like $600 for maybe 3 weeks. But I also took the time to buy a bed, little furniture pieces, and home items for when I was on my own.
But the biggest part was paying out the ass to get her and her family a house to rent and fronting the down payment on that. Which was almost 4 grand. I was still seeing my therapist doing phone appointments, but when the money started to run out, I stopped seeing her. She wasn't helping at that point and the legal situation with my boyfriend always following me, so I just let things die. That was a bad idea. Since I lost the car I needed a ride to work which was about a 20 minute commute. My friend was no longer my friend and nickel and diming me for absolutely everything she and her husband could think of. Need a ride to work? $20. Every time. It wasn't until after the disaster of my birthday party that I finally left, but not with being ripped off about $500.
I ended up in a crack home bungalow neighborhood for about 3 weeks following that. The only thing I had going for me was my job and living a block from the ocean. It was around that time I became pregnant. Yes, I realize in the middle of my living circumstances you are screaming, what the fuck were you thinking?! But it was planned. My boyfriend was in the middle off all this doing what he could to make everything right. And I don't regret it. I regret a bunch of other things, but they can't be changed. I ended up getting evicted by the piece of shit running the crack hole and he stole everything I owned. Almost lost my dog in all that too.
The night of all that business (which was also scary and the police department completely fucked me in that situation) one of the girls living there decided to leave and invited me to come and stay with her in Charlotte because she had a house there. We get there and the house is INFESTED with fleas. My poor dog had them. I got them. I ended up meeting one decent person there who took in my dog and said he was safe there until I got my shit together. Sadly he has been with her for almost a year. I want him back more than anything, but I still have no where I can put him. I was in North Caroline for about a month until legal situation with my boyfriend came to a head and he was arrested. I was terrified and quickly realized I was completely alone, with no money and nowhere to go.
I called one of my cousins in the Chicago area and explained the whole situation. She promptly bought me a bus ticket for the next greyhound to her and I was spending my last night saying goodbye to my dog and crying my soul out. All my belongings fit into a medium sized box. I stayed with my cousin and her family for about a month. During that time her husband got me a job serving at a country club. The club was decent and even offered housing for employees. I took it since I wore out my welcome at my cousin's and didn't have my own transportation. And I lived in a teeny tiny room with cable and shit wi-fi until I was 8 1/12 months pregnant. My boyfriend was in prison waiting on more legal stuff during all this.
Once I was told I would need to get a place once I had my baby I was scrambling to try and find an apartment I could afford. Sadly, I can't afford the suburbs of north Chicagoland on a server's wage. As a last resort I ended up in a maternity home about 20 minutes away from my job. It was nice to have a place where I was cared for and safe. But I wasn't bettering myself. I was basically playing the dependent again. I don't regret for one second staying there though. I met some really wonderful and truly blessed women who I will know for the rest of my life. They are all so special and dear to me. I miss them all so much.
I went into labor the morning I was scheduled to be induced. I was 2 weeks over due. There was a blizzard. I didn't go to the hospital until my induction appointment anyway since nothing seemed to be progressing. I hardly got any sleep. I tried to keep energy by eating fruits and carbs and sat in the tub to try and speed up my labor. I watched a lot of Dexter. It wasn't until I got to the hospital that I couldn't focus on watching t.v. I tried walking the halls and doing all the techniques they teach you to try and open things up, but it wasn't really changing. I was told to sleep around midnight to let them monitor my contractions. I woke up around 3 a.m. and was told I would need a small dose of pitocin since nothing was progressing and I had been in this situation for about 24 hours. So at 4 a.m. that was given to me and I walked the halls again. It was magic. Suddenly things were moving along. It wasn't getting more painful, just closer together. I labored in the shower after that but the water wouldn't stay one temperature. So I was burning and freezing my back while trying to breathe through contractions for an hour before I asked to labor in the tub. Well that took another hour to prepare. Once I got into the tub I felt much better, but I was getting tired. I hadn't peed in hours and they wanted me to try and pee. At that point I was so tired I was passing out after each contraction. I didn't have enough energy to get out of the tub to pee. So I peed in the tub. And then my water broke. Things kicked into high gear after that. I stood up and lots of stuff started coming out of me. I couldn't see because they dimmed the lights in the room. Time escaped me. I had to push like you wouldn't believe. I thought I was going to shit on the floor the urge to push was so intense. I got out of the tub and laid on the bed trying not to go crazy during each contraction since I was basically trying to hold it in. Which didn't happen. I was fighting so hard not to lose my mind, so I focused on breathing techniques that helped me not want to freak the fuck out. I was then encouraged to push and suddenly I was told that pushing was happening really really fast and to try and push during every other contraction. I was so exhausted at that point I just kept my eyes closed during contractions and only opened them in between. Pushing felt like what I would assume constipation is. The strangest feeling was feeling the limbs slip out of me. It all happened so fast once the head was out. I had a son at 2:22 p.m. He was perfect. He came out screaming. He was healthy. He is my only reason to live.
I didn't go back to work at the country club after giving birth. I wasn't getting the hours I was promised and I didn't want to be stuck in a job I didn't see myself doing long term. At this point the woman looking after my dog was trying to get me to move back down there and stay with her because she had a management job at her company for me. That fell through. Not the job. Everything else. I got in touch with an old friend one weekend and after catching up she opened her home to me and my son until my boyfriend's situation was settled and I was able to get on my feet standing firm. I moved in with her in April. And I've been with her ever since.
As much as I've written, there's a million and one details I've left out. Mostly because I can't legally post it, but also because I can't even remember the time line for everything. Motherhood has redirected my whole life. It is literally all about my son. What can I do in order to provide for him how I see fit? What can I do in order to maximize our relationship? Because I love him so much, and he is changing every single day and I don't want to miss out on any of it. I miss him if he's napped longer than an hour. I'm still broke as shit because I'm doing this thing where I'm trying to repair my credit. I should have bought a car months ago, but instead I've had to pay off so many debts and also provide for my family since I'm still at the bottom with nothing.
So I may not have a job, a place of my own, reliable transportation, or even my own furnishings, hell, even my dog, but my son has clothes on his back, a bed to sleep in (crib, really), and a full belly. Much of the legal situation has my long term goals in limbo since I've learned that legal situations can literally upend everything you've worked so damn hard for in seconds. I'm a lot more timid about going out and getting mine. I don't open up to people about my life since it's become so hard to even look back on in the past couple of years. Some of it was my doing, some of it wasn't. The parts that weren't my doing make me so angry and hurt that I can't think about it without getting upset. The parts that were make me feel so guilty and ashamed that I convince myself I do deserve to be living like this. But I don't. No one does. Either way, making friends is weird and difficult because I've also lost so many. One of my best friends told me how disappointed he was when I announced I was pregnant. Like I was a teen mom or something. He actually thought I threw my life away. It's messed up that someone you've known since you were 12 finds it disgusting and sad that you decided to become a mother at the age of 26. Granted, my life was in shambles at the time, but with everything that happened after I quit my job at the boutique in the beginning of 2012, I wanted to be a mom more than anything at that point in my life.
I can't expect anyone to understand why I chose to stand by my boyfriend in all the messed up legal shit he's gotten himself into. Everyone is different, every relationship is different. Despite all the mistakes he's made (and they've been big), he admits them, but also supports me when no one else does. He gets why I feel the way I do about trying to fix my life. He's also there to try and give me the emotional backing I need to even get through the day. We are a team, and he does what he can to help me solve the problems. It kills him he only has met his son in photographs and heard him squealing or crying in the background since putting him on speakerphone puts the calls at risk of getting disconnected. He is always wanting to know everything that goes on in our lives. He is cooperating with helping me out financially and is very concerned about my lack of independence. It doesn't help that my parents are not in my life or my son's. The former is their decision, the latter mine. I recently got back in touch with them to try and work things out, to try and form a new dialogue that wasn't abusive and spiteful, but instead they only want to say mean and untrue things about my boyfriend. Frankly it's insulting because his whole legal situation is being taken care of and he never did anything to them personally to fuck them over in any way. I'm sure they don't see it that way, but their views on reality are pretty messed up. I would know, my therapist met them and told me firsthand how fucked up they were. It's also unnerving that they are more concerned about bashing him than actually repairing a relationship with me. Like I'm not an individual to them anymore.
I'm back trying to find a therapist who's not in it for my money or just wanting to pity me and my sad stories about my life. I no longer have the rage I once did, but now this new thing called anxiety is ruining my life. I'm still trying to find a job that will pay me a decent enough wage so I can continue to fix my credit and buy a car that won't fall apart in a year. I am waiting to hear what the actual release date for my boyfriend will be. It's getting wrapped up soon, but court dates are constantly being changed. I haven't seen him since his arrest. It's strange to think we've been together for nearly 4 1/2 years. Our relationship is not perfect by any means. There are boatloads of issues he will be required to work through with me in counseling once he's released, as well as a lot of financial things to repair as a couple.
What gets me the most looking back at all this is that I still have no clue what the hell I want to do with my life. I know I want to have more children in the future. I love being a mom. I love that I can make people who look annoying adorable and enjoy all the parts no one else really knows about until they become a parent too. But as far as careers go...I have no idea how to get to where I want to be. I've always loved making clothes and part of me still wants to do that. But I also love creating art. I mean, I went to school for it, I should put that experience to work for me too. I also write a shit ton too, but I hardly think anyone enjoys reading it. I used to write terrible fan fiction when I was younger and now I just go on here to put my thoughts into words. I still find myself wanting to be a part of the fashion industry, whether it be working in the design department or the art department or the marketing/advertising department. I have so many ideas for things that are so out there but they just sit and rot on a shelf in my head. I haven't found the opportunity to put myself out there and make it work for me.
At least I'm back on this. And writing out my heart and soul so that everyone can binge on the mess that is my life and think, thank God I'm not her. Fuck that bitch's life!! Because honestly, I'd rather have the truth on here so people can openly hate on it instead of behind my back. I'm much better at dealing with bullshit when I know where I stand in it all than having to constantly guess what the hell everyone is really thinking. I've burned a lot of bridges trying to sort out myself, but the few I've built have been so much stronger that I can't even be mad at how many people I've burned. Life happens. It changes people. But I don't hold it against others. I'm just here admitting my life isn't awesome and instagram perfect but insane and one for the history books. It's real and I'm living it.
