“And in the bad times, I fear myself”

I swear I Am not actively trying to kill myself. I did write a suicide letter, and it was strangely cathartic.  It felt good to get it all off my chest and be so open and honest. I have not made any attempts, though I have thought about it many times. I have so many health problems going on right now. And I think they all stem from my depression and anxiety. I feel like if I could just get that under control, I would be able to get my life back. Back to that happy health smiling Mom I used to be. I could enjoy life, and not force myself just to live it. I started a new job. And I know I am not going to like it. Ive made myself so sick worrying about that Ive only worked one day and ended up in the emergency room with  a panic attack.

I can’t sleep. No matter how kolopin or sleeping pills I take, I cant sleep. Its got me on edge and  testy and basically just losing my shit for no reason. I am knee deep in planning this wedding. That I don’t even want. I Want the marriage. I just don’t want the wedding and all the stress and people that come along with it. But Capt. America refuses to elope, thou he has agreed to a very very small wedding.

Things with Jonathan Kent are going very well. He is doing much better with everything and thank God we are getting along wonderfully. Probably better then when were together. But there are still times I miss him. I miss not having to tell him to do little things, because he just did them. Like take the trash out of the bathroom, pick up after himself, feed the dog. It was our routine, and he just knew to do it. I miss having my family all under one roof. But I don’t miss Jonathan Kent in a lover kind of way. More like I miss a really good roommate.

So Im here. Running on fumes. And barely getting bye. Counting down the days to my honeymoon so I can lay on the beach with a cold drink and no worries for 3 days.

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The house that built me.

Once I had a white 2 story house with 5 cats, 1 dog, 1 geicko, and 1 abusive husband. I loved that house, more then the inhabitants in it. I had lived their since I was 7. It was a red room with yellow trim that I wrote song quotes on and my friends signed the wall. It was a queen sized mattress I carried with me throughout adulthood, lost my virginity on, and made 2 of my children on. It was a basement that scared me for years, and I always ran up the steps. It was a patchwork sectional my biological mom od’d on and I found her. It was where my friends and I partied after my parents moved out and bought their new house. It was chair Olympics, shot gunning cans of Bud light, riding mattresses down the stairs, and light saber fights at 2 am. It was always waking up, never knowing who you’d find on the futon across the hall.

Then I lived with Jonathan Kent, in many places I wont call home. We had one dog, and a step child. I developed a love for cinnamon flavored whiskey. It was a 3 bedroom singlewide we enthusiastically put a crib together in when I was only 10 weeks pregnant with Starfire. It was a room with one blue wall, I couldn’t walk into for months. It was a bathtub with glass sliding doors I had to get in to give our first Mastiff a bath. It was a kitchen, on Valentines day, I told him I wanted a divorce for the first time. It was St. Patrick’s Day where I finally found out I was pregnant with Batman, and we became a family, and it became home.

We then moved into my parents house, right before finding out I was pregnant with Robin… Still one dog. This was evening rides on the mower for a baby Batman, learning to pick dandelions up from the yard, and collecting buckeyes in the fall. Its a fire in the fireplace when Ohio State beats Michigan. Its waking up to the smell of Maxwell House, and knowing that the people who love me most are just downstairs. ITs walking into 56 acres of land and knowing I am home, this is mine, and where Im meant to be.

Then we moved into another singlewide. Jonathan Kent, the boys and I. We had 1 dog and 1 cat. It was home. It was at home in any house Ive ever been home in. We were a family, in every sense of the word. There was tension, but we still had the mattress from my childhood. I was happily breastfeeding and sober. I was a stay at home mom and loved it. We had mud puddles in the back yard, and we would meet Jonathan Kent for lunch.

Then my Dad got sick. And I began sleeping on the hardwood floor beside their bed, or outside the bathroom door. Depending on where he was. I spent more nights at my parents then I did at home. When he passed, I knew the envitable was that Id move in with my mother. I never dreaded, only welcomed it, still yearning for the fires and dandelions.  We didn’t bring the mattress…

We moved in with her in Feb 2017. In a short period of time she was admitted to the hospital. And home became a mixture of itchy blankets and McDonalds. Trying to keep up with parents night. Did Jonathan Kent remember what lunchable went into whose lunchbox? Was the biopsy scheduled for this morning or this afternoon? Home became a kalonopin infused faze of doctors and teachers and pills to give at this time, shots at that time. My home, the actual structure, became a hospital like zone with tubes and oxygen and everything I needed to allow my Mom to die at home.

Only I couldn’t. I had found my biological mother od’d. I had held my fathers hand at hes died. How was I suppose to watch this women who had raised me, who had taught me be who I was, watch her wither away and lose her senses? I tried. I tried so hard. I stayed up for days with her, getting everything she wanted, in this house they had so lovingly picked out together. But she got too combative and pulled out the tubes and refused the shots, the pills. So I hugged her, I told her I loved her, and I allowed her to go to hospice. She had a peaceful passing with me there. I still have all her clothes and blankets bundled up in a bag no one will ever touch.

Home is now these four walls my parents picked out with me in mind. A sound safe basement for tornadoes, a fireplace when the electric goes out, with a generator in the shed. A barn, to store whatever may need storing. 56 acres for the boys to roam and run and be feral. And love. It has all their love in. It’s in the hallway my Mom had redone before passed and the new kitchen floor she put down so I wouldn’t have to worry with it. It’s the gas stove that is missing one knob because it needs fixed.Its the hundreds of tools and gadgets in the shed and basement that I don’t know what are for. Its a bed with their covers and pillows on it, that I can still imagine them both laying in, while I cleaned them and took care of them.

My home is 2 little boys who I love with my whole heart, who kept me going when I want to give up. Its laughter and fortnight and fights over whose opinion is stupid. Its 2 dogs and 1 crazy cat, and about 100 fish. Its a small zoo we’ve built and love. Its a man I adore, who I want more than anything to build a life with and bless us with more children. Its a smell of smoke that wafts in whenever he walks in a room, and the chomping of Doritos as Batman finishes off a bag.

The house that built me, they are many. They are rooms, with colors and smells, memories attached to them. They are structures Ill never in a million years be able to part with. They are me.

“We’re young. And we’re reckless.

We’ll take this way too far. ”

 

I find myself missing having my entire family under roof. No having to coordinate days off, or pick up schedules or doctors appointments. Just having us all here. Someone to depend on, with the kids. Someone who held up their end of the bargin without asking. Who took responsibility for his kids because they were his.

I came to realization last night. Captain America and I were drinking. He didn’t have to be at work till late today, and while I was off today, I had to get up with the kids this morning. He was rip roaring drunk, and I was just happily buzzed. He wanted me to keep drinking to get drunker, and I said are you going to help me with the kids in the morning? And he didn’t answer. And he didn’t get up this morning. I didn’t get drunker.

He has a choice. Everyday. He can choose to be in the superheroes lives, while Jonathan Kent and I are here for life, bad or good. Drunk or sober. He made his choice and it was to not help me this morning, to show me that they would always be “my kids.”

Was life with Jonathan Kent miserable? At times. It was lonely… It was terrible lonely. But he was a good dad. And he took his part of responsibility. He got up every morning and helped me with the kids. He took part in every bath time. Hes been at every school event. And I just didn’t factor in that my kids would be a choice in someone else’s  life. I figured they would be the main component as they are in mine. I don’t understand how Captain America can clam to love me more then anything in the world, and ye participating the raising of my children is a choice for him.

Love is fickle. It makes you overlook the worst in people and believe only the best. Ive seen only the affection and admiration, and not the dirty socks and empty sprite bottles.

I don’t know what to do with this or where to go. Im supposed to be boking a cabin so we can get married. And all I can think of is no. My first instinct is no. I know enough to know to follow my gut.

I cant get married. Not right now. I may have bought a dress and shoes. I may have a date picked out. But I can’t marry someone who sees my children as choices and puts a hard no above his supposed love for me.

“If I could just hold on

Through the tears and the laughter. ”

Again I am a mess. Captain America has continued with the hard no, and Im at impass. I want to stand by him, and support him. I want to be loving supportive finace. I want to be there for him. I just don’t know if I can. I don’t know if it is the best thing for superheroes, and if I can trust him to follow through with his promises. Time will tell I suppose.

Jonathan Kent and I are legally divorced. Its over, its so over, in the words of Meredith Grey. Ive said Pick me Choose me Love me to one man and its over, its so over to another. Maybe I really am a Twisted Sister.

Captain America and this hard no is really putting me in a rough predicament. there are certain family members that know about it and are putting their 2 cents in, and they are not supportive at all. A swift kick in the ass is not what I need at the moment. I need love and support. And Im just not getting it.

So I follow through with this wedding planning, and hope and pray Captain America follows through on his promises and I can count on him. Though the past is not on his side.

On the up side, I have only thought about killing myself a handful of times in the last month. This morning included.

Stay safe. Hug somebody sad. Don’t be a judgy ass hole.

I’m alive

I’m alive. Holding on and holding out for better days. Days when I don’t have to physically force myself to get out of bed, when breathing doesn’t take all my energy and I don’t have to focus so much on appearing normal.

We took a mini vacation to the mountains. Captain America, his mother, the boys and I. It was wonderful and the best I had felt in months. Until our last night there when my insecurities got the best of me and allowed myself to lash out and ruin it. I really am my own worst enemy. And even as I was doing it, as I was picking the fight, I knew what I was doing and I hated myself for it.

My divorce from Jonathan Kent is finalized tomorrow. Tomorrow my 10 year marriage goes down the drain and I can chalk it up as yet another failure in my life.

Captain America proposed on New Years Eve. I don’t know if he wanted to propose or he was scared of the consequences. Either way, the color scheme is dark blue and white. I’m going to look at a dress this Sunday. We are thinking of going to TN to get married, with just a small gathering of family and friends. Sometime in June. I always wanted a June wedding.

I can’t seem to get excited or care about anything. I can’t seem to get motivated to do anything but sleep. Depression has reared its ugly head and taken hold. It takes so much energy just to stay alive. Nobody understands that. They don’t understand the day to day toll it takes on me to do the bare minimum. To go to work, feed the littles, survive until bed time. Never mind the added stress of trying to keep a house up, keep a small zoo alive, pay bills and maintain relationships. Because all I want to do is stay secluded in my bedroom and never come out again.

“Nothings real until you let go completely”

I attempted suicide.

We all saw that one coming. I did not succeed. And I don’t need to explain my reasons or whys. I think this whole blog has led up to this, and if you’ve been a faithful reader then your well aware of my suicidal ideation.

Christmas night I was pushed over the edge because Captain America did not propose, even though he bought a ring. It was the hope I had been hanging onto. It was my saving grace, and my future. And he did not come through. So after we had sex, and he said he was not going to propose, I got out of bed answered Carrie Bradshaw’s text, swallowed 2 handfuls of different types of pills and washed it down with about 5 shots of fireball.

Then I went to bed. I got really sleepy. I really didn’t think about the boys or the aftermath. I just knew I was done and I did not want to wake up again.  During this time, I was texting Carrie Bradshaw and being the best friend she is, she figured out something was wrong. And asked if Captain America had proposed. When I replied No and that I had been drinking, she messaged Captain America that something was wrong and to get back upstairs ASAP. He came up and wouldn’t leave me alone until I told him exactly what I Took and how much. He reasoned out it was not enough to kill me, just make me extremely tired. So they did not call the squad. They did not let me go to sleep either.

And now Im still here. I still feel hopeless and so so sad. Nothing is bringing me joy. And I can’t get anyone to understand that. I have no joy in life at the moment. I worthless, and I really that the boys would be better off with a mother who was not asleep all the time. Someone who wanted to play with them, and didn’t get aggravated and nervous so easy. A mother who smiles. The type of mother I used to be. Jonathan Kent could find that for them.

I don’t know if ill attempt it again, to be honest. I don’t know if I want to wake up. I know I don’t want to get out of bed tomorrow.

Im failing

Epically.

I had a miscarriage. Im not going to go into gory details. It was very early. So early that it didn’t even register on the Early response pregnancy tests. But I passed it tonight and you could very much tell what it was.

So.

Merry Christmas to me. I miscarried the Capt. first child. I Cant even get pregnant right. Not that its uncommon, but Jesus. Cant I catch a break? Cant something just go right?

Its just pushing me closer and closer to some edge. Where there is no turning back. Where I desperate and feel backed into a corner. I feel like Im being pushed closer to a choice I don’t want to make. Closer to an end I don’t want to meet.

I try focusing on the good. On Robin carrying his cat like a baby and him telling he loves me so much. On Batmans hugs and his excitement over his fish. On the way I feel when Capt holds me. I am grabbing onto those life preservers and holding on for dear life. because they are all Ive got. Its all Ive got.

“If you could please step back from that ledge my friend.”

How long have I been standing on this edge, so  close to making that leap? How many times have I counted out the pills in my hand, or googled the number I would need?

How many days has it been since I smiled a genuine smile? One that wasn’t preplanned because I know what my reaction should be.

Holding out, holding on, it just gets harder and harder. And I try. I try and try and all I can do is count the hours to bedtime. Zone out in my head so I don’t hear the constant noise. Noise from everyone. Im over noise. Im over stimulated and over touched and over mommied and over whelmed.

Can I ask for help? Is that allowed? And who would I ask? What would I ask? Can you please take care of my daily life for about a month so I can go somewhere and reset my mind so I don’t think about killing myself? Can I say that to Carrie Bradshaw or Capt. America or even Jonathan Kent? Can I rely on them to take care of the littles and make the chicken nuggets and give the baths and play uno?

Fuck no I cant… I cant depend on Jonathan Kent and Capt America to say hello, let alone co parent for the sake of my sanity. Theyd both sooner have me bleeding out in the bathtub.

Im not drinking anymore so that should be a one point my way. But at least when I was drinking myself into a blackout I Wasn’t counting out pills in my hand then throwing them in the bottle and running away.

I don’t even know at this point why I continue on. I feel like Im only making everyone in my life miserable. I don’t feel like Im being there for the my superheroes. Im so fake at work sometimes it makes me sick.

What do you do when your life is so wonderful and you are so blessed, yet you absolutely cannot fathom the idea of how you are going to get out of bed in the morning?

“Loving you had consequences”

Tomorrow Jonathan Kent and I sign our divorce papers. Tomorrow, I just really don’t know what to say. I am so sad that it has came to this. I tried so hard to make it work. If you could have just met me half way. You really have been my best friend, my protector and my family for so long. Im not sure how to be someone who is not your wife.  Your not alone in all this blame. You may have been an asshole but you’ve always been an asshole. I was playing such a part when we first got together to be the perfect girl, you didn’t know what you were dealing with until it was too late. I never loved you the way I should have. I loved you as a friend, a father, a family. But I was never in love with you, not the way either of us deserved. I know you tried in your own way, especially after Batman was born and we lost Starfire. Those few years, we really loved each other. We really held onto one another and grew as a family. You were so proud when I was pregnant with Batman, and so protective. Ill never forget the sound of you talking to him in the hospital room when you thought I was asleep.

Ill also never forget that you left me alone in the hospital room to go home and watch a football game and I had to call you to come back.

So yes, we loved each other. And we have a beautiful family. But we are not right for each other. We both deserve a different kind of love, the kind of love I have with Captain America, and the kind of love I pray you find.

I may not be sure who I am if Im not your Mrs, but Ill figure it out. Im not afraid to be alone anymore. I can stand on my own two feet and take care of these boys. We will always be a family and I will always love you, but only for their sake. Any love beyond that has disappeared.

So yes Im sad. Im devastated to be honest. This is the dismantling of my life. This is 10 Christmas’s, 10 birthdays, 3 children,3 dogs, 2 cats, 5 jobs and 4 houses. This is a queen sized bed that I dragged with me from childhood that we created out 2 of our 3 children on. This is an aquamarine ring from our first Christmas together.  This is holding my hand as they cut Robin out

This isn’t about me loving Captain America, or you loving this new girls boobs. This is our life together. And tomorrow, we sign the papers and its truly over.  There will be no second chances, no go backs.

I don’t want to go back. I want to move forward. I have to move forward. But just for a second I want to hold onto the memory of you purposing to me while I ate McDonald’s, even though I said no. I want to remember the joy and happiness of the day we found out we were pregnant with Batman, and all the promise life seemed to hold.

Ill never forgive you for making me question my self worth. Making me feel as if I wasn’t good enough and that no one would ever want me.

I will be forever grateful to you for pulling me out of my 1st alcoholic phase and giving me a reason for living.

Ill never forget how you made me go through with that farce of a wedding as I was bleeding our daughter out.

I’ll always remember you holding me up after they placed the lumnaria sticks and dressing me. You always supported me and never backed down.

This is my good bye letter to you, Jonathan Kent. And if you ever read this, please know I loved you the best I could and you gave me the best of you. We have a beautiful family and I don’t regret one second of us.  Ill always be here for you and we will always be a family.

“Even in madness, I know you still believe.”

Dear Capt. America

You’ll read this. I know you will, since you found my blog. And you have a right to be hurt. The words Ive wrote, since I use this like a journal, can cut deep like a knife. Its hard to read that the women you love loved her husband. But did you ever question what kind of love or read far enough into the blog where I openly stated he wasn’t the love of my life? Did you read the blog where I write that Ive never experienced a love like ours and I know I made the right decision to end my marriage? Or did you only read the one blog where I admit I miss Jonathan Kent? I hope you read far enough to read the blog about Starfire so you realize that those two blogs were written within days of each other. Days of my 9th wedding anniversary and her death. I hope you read far enough to realize how deep my depression is and how hard I fight each day to not swallow a bottle of pills. I hope you understand how deep my love runs for you and its because you and the superheroes that I fight.

I am allowed to grieve. I allowed to miss my marriage. I am allowed to always have a familial love for Jonathan Kent. You cannot make me feel bad for this, I wont allow it.

I want so badly to trust you. I want so badly to love you until my dying days,  but Im sure you read the posts where I said I knew you were going to break my heart. And you did. You’ve broken my heart and I don’t know if you have enough to glue the pieces past together.

This will be my last post for a while.

I love you.