“Last dance with Mary Jane.

One more time to kill the pain.”

My biological mother liked hard drugs. Opiates were her drug of choice in her later years, but she was stranger to coke, acid, benzos, and pot. Not that I consider pot a hard drug. But she liked it. I can remember being a young child and coming into a pot hazed room. Or find my mother and other people laughing at nothing. I went on more drug deals for her as a teenager then I have ever smoked pot in my life. Ive never been a drug person, alcohol yes. I think my mother was afraid of me becoming her that caused some of her more bizarre actions.

However, it scarred me. I knew I could go to my parents with anything, and that I could go to her and while she might judge me, she would help me. I knew my parents would love and support me through any problem life threw at me. So I lived, I had a normal teenage life and made normal teenage mistakes. I also felt abandoned, and used. Those were feelings I would carry with me into adulthood, and they were insecurities I would take with me into relationships.Every relationship Ive ever had, I never felt good enough, or pretty enough, or loved enough. I never felt like I was getting back all I was giving out.

Until Captain America. I finally felt the same amount of love and devotion. I finally felt like we were equal and he wiped away my insecurities. I fell asleep in his arms every night feeling loved and safe. Then the hard no happened and I was the same little girl who found roach clips. I was back to feeling insecure and abandoned and used. So now Ive come full circle. Now Im back at the beginning and have to work through it all again.

Will I find him dead too?Will my children follow in my footsteps?

” I spent the longest winter without you.

I didn’t know where to turn to”

We’ve gotta be headed north. Like for real, we can only go up from here.I have fought so hard to stay alive and give my kids their best lives, and it seems its being snatched from me. I have struggled with sobriety and responsibility and adulthood, and theres not much I haven’t over come. Honestly…”Ive been waiting for a good day.” The kind of day where the sun shines just a bit brighter, the highlighter goes on a bit smoother, and the cleats fit just a little more comfortable. A day where the lunches are ate, and laughs are had, hugs are given and I have slept;

I think that day may have been today.

Today I slept. Cuddled up warm, cozy, and loved in Captain America’s arms, in a bed I adore surrounded by blankets of my youth and a pregnant cat. The make up went on well. No problems there, hair was fine. I looked every  bit the put together me I wanted to be. The cleats went on a little easier tonight. There wasn’t much of struggle just a little wiggle. Today, they both ate their lunches and were welcomed home with a hug and a kiss and we laughed at one silly thing or another.

Today was a good day. (“Ive been holding back long enough.”)

Today makes me think we are headed north and the past is the past and it is behind us. But what will 48 hours bring us? How far north will we be then or will fall back down to earth?

” So here I go with all my thoughts Ive been saving. So here I go with all my fears weighing on me.”

Im all out of witty one liners

And quotes. For once in my life Im out of quotes. I caught Captain America with the hard no, red handed. And I threw a temper tantrum and told him to get out of the house. I took his clothes outside and threw some cash to him. But I let him back in.

Ugh I know. I know I know I know! I don’t want to let him back in, but I love him. I do. And I don’t want to be without him, and that navie little girl inside me screams, “but he can change!” Even as the adult boss lady in me shakes her head and says, “No honey he won’t.” Even thought I know in a weeks time there will be another tantrum, another fight. How do I break the cycle? Where am I supposed to get my strength from to kick out this man I adore?

If only…..

Captain America, from the bottom of my sole I am begging you. Please never do it again. Because I can’t do it again. Please.

The paint has peeled, the glass has shattered.

I’ve been listening to a lot of Marren Morris in case you couldn’t tell. The hard no has continued with many promises to stop and grand declarations of love. And me, standing there, holding the door open to let it continue. How do I so no, enough? How do I throw him out when I know how hurt he is? I know the pain of losing parents, and how it hurts fucking terribly. How you just want something, anything to numb the pain. But just like I told him last night, I did it. I got up everyday and I Fought for the littles, and if he doesn’t love us enough to do that, than there is no point. I don’t know what else to say to make him understand, to make him see how badly he has hurt me, and how much he will hurt them.

I had grand ideas of adulthood, even when I was a young adult. I Would only have kids with one man, achieved that one, would be sober forever once I had kids fell off that wagon, would stay married to my childrens father unless there was abuse, messed up that one. I would own my home, thanks Mom and Dad, and have a good job, thankfully for the time being I do. It was all so clear and I didn’t see how people who had kids were able to just end relationships. I still don’t quite understand this one, but its getting easier. Ive accomplished what I wanted in life, im a good mom to great kids. I have a good job and own my house. But Capt America can never achieve his dreams because I cant give him children. And that’s not fair, I know its not.

So what now?What road do I take? Can someone give me directions? I thought for so long that Jonathan Kent and I were the foundation that was built strong, but crumbled. Then I thought it was Captain America and I. Now Im slowly starting to see that its the littles and I. They are my foundation, my home, my strength. As long as I have them, then I had everything I need.

“If the bones are good…

Ive lived a long life. I’ve stared death in the face and held his hand; I’ve begged for it, and pleaded for just I’ve one more day. I watched my parents die, and came to terms with my drug addicted mother and complicated father. I had an abortion to end my daughter’s suffering. I left a man I created a family with for a man who once was a big part of my family. I’ve held little hand, rocked little bodies, and carried them crying up and down the halls. MY greatest joy has been kissing little boo boos, and washing little butts. Smelling sweet, soft heads and holding sleeping babies. Ive raised animals and I’ve raised kids. I’ve parted with material things that were my whole world, and I came out with my head held high, knowing I made the right choice. I’ve loved men who broke me into; utterly destroyed me, and led me down dark paths. I’ve ended friendships and broken up marriages. I’ve drank, and praised, laughed and cried, loved and lost. Only to get back up the next day and do it all again. I’ve pulled myself out of bed just to fix cearal, when all I wanted to do was die. I’ve lied and stole and somethings people will never know. I’ve been the girl next door, and the harlequin down the hall.
When you look at me, you’ll see average height, a little overweight, pretty face with short blonde hair. Youll see 2 tattoos, and wonder if there are more. You’ll see a quick smile, and welcoming warm eyes. You’ll be welcomed with a warm hug or a pat on the back. You’ll be asked if your hungry or thirsty, tired or need to pee. Your needs will be met, and I will ask about your day. You may think to ask me about mine, but Ill come up with another question, because honestly, I care more than you do.You’ll learn I have 3 dogs, 8 fish, 1 pregnant cat, 3 sons and 1 daughter. Youll see my living room, a collage of pictures and various drawings, on walls of a color I didn’t pick out. You’ll wonder in the woods of my childhood and think how lucky I must have been, to grow up in this green hillside of love. You’ll hear stories of my kids, and if your lucky, Ill introduce you. You’ll quickly learn that Ill invite anymore into my life, but only the scared few into theirs. You’ll met my blended little family, and Ill talk of a sister and nieces who really aren’t. By the end of the day, I’ll know your life story and you will have scratched the surface of mine.
Did you pick up on the reference to my parents? Did you think to ask how I have a daughter, but only pictures of sons? Did you notice the wedding ring, but see two different men in my kitchen? Did you think to ask why no one sleeps downstairs? Or what my most prized materialistic possession was? What about the 3rd son, where is he?
I grew up in a very little town, in a white house with a porch swing, two big trees in the front yard. Where my imagination ran wild and so did I. I climbed trees and played on railroad tracks. I lived in creeks, and I kissed neighbor boys. I carried opossums home because I couldn’t let them die, and somehow I grew into a women who signed papers to end her daughters life. My house had 3 stories, with a haunted basement if ever there was one. It had a room for cats, and a bedroom for each stage of my life. I had beagles and mutts,kittens and pigeons. I was a girl scout. I learned to drive a mitsubitshi mirage in my back yard with a 10 year old in the passenger seat. I had my first kiss at my dining room table when I was 7. I lost the remainder of virginity in the upstairs red room when I was 17. I was beat up in the living room at 21. I found my drug addicted mother dead of an overdose on the couch when I was 19. My complicated father admitted to sexual feelings toward me when I was 20, in the same living room.
How, you may wonder, did this house seem so welcoming when on the inside its tore up and broken? With its outside white picket fence charm, how could it hold so many dark things? That house is where I lived and grew up, but my home was 20 miles away with an aunt and uncle who loved and protected me from the day I was born. They opened their home and hearts to me, and welcomed me in refuge whenever I may need it. They saved my life, and kept me clothed and fed. They loved me in times when I didn’t feel capable of love, and took the evil and hurt out of my life. They had the lush green hillside with the happiness and safehaven. The home of my children; with its barn and buldings, room to grow and run, to build dirt piles and have pools,to ride bikes and 4 wheelers. Dining rooms big enough for our whole family to eat in, with some spilling over to outside or the living room. This house, this beautifully built fortress, is where my animals live and my children were born. This was their first home, and safe haven. Its where they both took their first steps, it’s where they lay their heads at night knowing their grandparents loved them with all their hearts. Its where I ran to when I was falling apart, and where I took refuge in once they died. Its walls, strong as steel, with 2 porches. It’s a pot of chili in fall, and watermelon in the summer. It’s the better part of me, the part Im most proud of.
I’ve built a home with 2 different men. Both who I have loved and loved whole heartedly, in different ways, different contexts, different settings, at different times. One man pulled me up in my darkest state and gave me a reason to live, something to hold on to, an anchor in the storm. He built my confidence back up and tore down at the same time. He gave me life, and he helped me take away. We lost our dearest love together and gained two more. We laughed and we cried, moved and built, came together and fell apart. But he anchored me from the get go. He will forever my lighthouse in the storm. The steel to my ivory, and the foundation to my home. The other man, is a God send. He came to me, for me, at a time when I was most lonely. He rekindled the fire in me, and gave me the will, not reason, to get up each day. He makes me laugh and reintroduced me to love. He makes me feel whole and complete, and know we were meant to be. He is my safe spot to land, and hand to hold in the dark of night. If the first man is my anchor and lighthouse, then this man is my sea. Forever turning and changing, growing and evolving and learning new ways to love me.
The animals I mentioned. Do they belong to the safe haven or the dark beggnning. These animals, they are my childrens. They are part of my family and make us whole. There is a giant mastiff, who is scared of his own shadow. He loves and loves and knows nothing but love. He was bought in the midist of grief and heartache, along with the golden retriever/chow to bring closure and happiness to a very glum grieving me. They have protected me and my kids, and made me feel safe and secure. The other dog is mastiff/great pyrnees and the baby of my family. He is a lover and little rascal and he makes my children smile. The cat is a she devil who likes to climb roofs and who gives me the sweetest cuddles. The fish are the fish and serve their purpose.There were other animals of importance in my life. 5 cats who I loved like my own, 3 dogs whose death had a huge impact on my life, and 2 sugar gliders my boys nursed from babies.
The children, now you wonder. There are 4. 3 boys, and 1 little girl. The first came into my life with the first man, and they gave me a foundation to build on. He taught me how to love beyond myself, and love without boundaries to whole new level. Through him I started my most precious journey, what Id been destined for, to be a mother. He taught me selflessness, and taking joy in little things. He taught me heartbreak when he decided he wasn’t my own, and pride when I realized blood didn’t matter. He teaches me kindness each day and shows me the greatest part of his father and mother. Then came the girl. She was fierce and mighty and loved and wanted. She was prayed for and begged for and hoped for. She was diagnosed with many different things inutero and cried for as she was taken out of me. She is grieved for and missed daily, a life that never got a chance, a seed that never got to sprout. An angel whose footprints were too fine for this earth. The little boys, my love dolls, my reason for living are empathetic and mild, smart mouthed and quick witted, tall and strong, taken from his father. Fast and small, cunning and wild, blond hair and easy smile. Dirt and trucks, animals and earth. Pure love, and as many hugs as they will allow. They are a sprite and cool ranch doritos, phones and fortnite, love and happiness, and joy, green grass and rolling hills with a little potato soup thrown in for good measure. They are everyday, my greatest love, my reason for living, the best part of their father and me, they are the earth to my sea and light house. They have held my hand for 8 years but been my destiny for my whole life.
The things people don’t know? These are stories Ive never told. Drug deals as a naïve teenager, back seat date rapes, and ruins of my youth. Hitting an all time low on the bathroom floor of a bar. Feeling ill at ease about my own descions and questioning my choices. Stories of substance abuse, and figuring things out. Ruining relationships and sabotaging friendships. Wishing I was dead and taking handfuls of pills. Loving unconditionaly and losing my religion in backyards. These are stories Ill never tell, things Ill take to my grave. Times and black outs, embarrassement and euphoria, triumph and pain, heartache and loss. The dark side to my lush, green hills.
The point of this? To satisfy myself. To write it down in hopes it reasonates with someone. That it reaches someone. They feel it because they have a lighthouse and sea and land. They’ve had beagles and mutts, kittens and cats who like roofs, blackouts and abortions. So that they know they are not alone. Its ok to be a warm, caring, kind hearted, beautiful soul and have a dark side too. There are two sides to every coin, and before we can truly come to grips with our lives, we most flip both…

“Were in the home stretch of a hard time.

We took a hard left, but were all right.”

Man, Im trying. Im trying so hard. And I can love and forgive. But its the trust that’s killing me. Its the every moment wondering what if, and feeling the need to question and worry. Its just a mess. And its a situation I never thought would be in. I always looked down on people in this situation and thought never. Guess that teaches me because karma is a bitch.

I cant talk to anyone about it because I have isolated everyone. They don’t want to hear me complain about the same problem Ive been complaining about for over a year. And I knew didn’t  I? I knew the past, and I knew the chances were there, and yet here I go. Walking down a lonely road. When I say I loved Captain America from the first kiss, I mean it hit me like a bolt of lightning, but it was like it was a feeling Id felt forever. It was literally like coming home to something you’ve been missing your whole life. And I wanted it so badly. I wanted a life and love and family with him. I gave up my family for him. I sacrifice time with the littles so I can be married to him instead of their father. I have gave and gave and gave and my give is gone. I want to love this man forever, but how many forevers can you give someone who keeps taking?

Captain America, if you read this, and you probably will. Please know I love you with all my heart. I would do anything to make this work. And I am trying. I am trying so hard and pushing down this distrust with all my might. So please, for the love of the littles if not for me, stop. Don’t ever go back to the hard no. Stay away. Because I cant, no I can handle it because I will, but I won’t go through this again. Ive given you more than one get out of jail free card, and this one is the last one. I wont give anymore. I love you. Please.

“My Tshirt! Your hair! Messed up like a guns n roses video!”

This is a very upbeat title. My life is not very upbeat. Captain America’s dad passed away. I am sad for him, I am sad for the grandfather the heroes could have had, and Im sad for him never meeting my new nephew in December.

But mostly, I am sad that it drove Capt back to the hard no, and it roared its ugly head and gnashed its ugly teeth, and yes I am a Maurice Sednak fan. Ill never come right out and say what the hard no is, but Im sure you’ve figured it out, and I will just say this. My husband is the most loving giving generous hardworking family man you will ever meet. I don’t know that its a disease or something hes pre determined to have issues with, or what. But I know this : He plays uno with the littles. He spends his Friday nights cuddled up to whatever movie they want, and he plays card games, and he takes the dogs out at 4 am. HE is the best man Ive meet beside my dad. I understand how this loss, this monumental situation can drive him back into enemy arms. And he fights this everyday, and I love him for him.

And he read my blog. The past ones, the bad ones, the ones where I didn’t sign his praises, and he did not resort to the hard no. But this week, just once he has. Should that be enough to throw away a lifetime with someone? Someone who will be good for my boys, who will teach them values and lessons to keep for all their years, someone who will stand by them when the going gets tough, and the tough get going? Because that’s who Capt is. He is a team player, and he is all in. For all my faults and misgivings and downright bitchiness, the man is solid and never wavering. He is going to stand by me and support me because he is that good. For better or worse. For better or worse.

Things will be better.

I can make them better.

“You should be here.

Standing with your arm around me, here.”

My father in law passed away at 330 am today. Ive seen death and held its hand, but this one.  Man this one. He suffered. He laid in coma for 5 and half days. He ran a fever of 105 for the last two. I could not get the doctor to increase the morphine until the last day even though he was  hospice patient. He slung his legs and waved his arms. He was miserable. And we were miserable watching him. But still the man held on…for something. At 3:25 this am, I woke up, with Captain American asleep beside me on the air mattress, and his pregnant sister a foot away in a recliner. I listened to him take a couple breathes, and then he never breathed again.

The most horrific thing in my life has been losing Starfire, and nothing will compare to that. But the other most horrific painful thing in my life was telling my boys when my mother and father passed. Breaking their little hearts and taking away their heroes. I told them about my Dad passing in the back of his beloved Ford Explorer, with my arms wraped around each of them, and I told them of my mother in our bed that the 4 of shared for 6 years. And I watched their faces crumple and their world shatter, and I felt my heart break into a hundred thousand pieces.

It happened again this morning when  I had to tell Captain America that his hero was gone. The man who taught him to swim by tying anti freeze jugs on him and throwing him creeks, the man who took care of him at his worst, the man he looked up to his entire life and he thought was immortal. I had to break his heart and shatter his world. And it killed me. So I held him. And I gave him time, and I didn’t lose my shit. I stayed calm and did not allow myself to get caught up in the sweep of emotions.

He leaves behind 3 children, 4 grandchildren and one on the way, 1 brother, and a host of extended family. His last days were filled with Captain America not leaving his side, even though he was 3.5 hours away from home, and his other two children making frequent visits. I was there everyday, finally staying from Monday until this morning. Other family members came in each day, and we talked and laughed and told stories and bonded. His last hours were filled with all 3 of his children in one room, and laughter. He was loved until the very end.

My boys have been with Jonathan Kent for the most part since Friday, and it has made me realize how important he is to me, and how hard we have worked to get here. For him to be able to say of course I can keep the boys for five nights in a row so you can be by your husbands side. When this time last year he wouldn’t say Capts name or acknowledge his precense. Weve came far and we have worked hard, and we are doing this parenting thing right, the three of us. We all love those boys and put them first always. That makes a family, not a piece of paper or even blood. But loving each other taking care of one another. I am blessed to have my little family.

Captain America is not taking it well, and I should not be surprised. I didn’t take my first taste of death well, and went into such a deep depression after my Mom died. The one thing that kept me going, each day was the superheroes. Knowing I had to get out of bed for them. I hope he can find something to hold on to, something to keep going for.

Rest Easy Bob. Love on Starfire, and introduce yourself to my parents.

Let her cry.

Let the tears fall down like rain.”

Watching my father in law die has be exhausting. Both of my parents were comatose for only a day, then passed that night. My father in law has been comatose since Friday and is still fighting.

I admire his strength, but it is killing Captain America. One minute he seems to accept the inevitable, and the next hes saying he hopes he wakes up. He can’t make his mind, and it is exhausting trying to watch someone will their parents to live.

I was the exact same way. I would have moved heaven and earth to fix my parents. I was so navie. But now, having watched 4 people suffer and die, Im jaded. I can spit out the hospice jumbo as good as the nurses, and already familiar with the medication and doses he would be on. I knew the protocol before we even walked into the hospital Friday, while poor Capt looked dismayed at every question. Did we want them to turn him? Did we want to bathe him or have his BP checked every hour? Of course, saying no to those questions make me seem like a barbarian, but watch a comatose cancer patients get turned and have her skin rip, watch it I tell you and youll understand why I am a firm believer in leave them the fuck alone and let them go in peace.

And its not that Im not empathetic. I am one of the most empathetic people you will ever meet. But Im just so jaded with death, and watching the process, and it puts me in such a bad place. But I have stepped up the fucking plate, and been with Captain America all the way. Ive slept on concrete hospital floors, and ate vending machine food for  four days. Im there for him, and its not that I get inpatient with him when he doesn’t know the answer. Its just that I hate that I do. I wish I didn’t know the answer, and ignorance was still bliss. I wish I hadn’t been through all this before. That’s what it boils down to. He has unknowingly, stuck me back in one of my own personal hell. Every single Im in the hospital Im comparing it to when my parents were dying. When I look at him, with his mouth hung open, all sunk in and grey, I can’t help but see my Dad laying there. The war hero he was, nothing more then a shell of what he used to be, without the smile on his face and warmth he brought to a room. I cant help but grieve for myself when I should be grieving with him.

However, it has made me feel feelings for him again, which is a definite plus. Maybe there is a light at the end of the tunnel.

” This is what you wanted.

You ended it.”

How do you do something that you know is going to break your heart, as well as the person you love? How can you actually trust your gut when it is what got you into this in the first place? How is it possible to completely dismantle your life in as many way as I manage to? Im a complete disaster area. My mind and my heart are in utter chaos. I haven’t don’t anything or made any decisions, therefore I haven’t fucked up any lives today.

I had a life changing epiphany driving home from work Saturday night. Im a grown women. I make decent money. I can stand on my own two feet, and I think for the first time in my life, I understand that. I feel it. Everyone other time Ive felt like this, I haven’t been able to be alone or trust myself to myself. But this time, I feel like I can. I can manage. I just don’t want to. I don’t want to hurt anybody, or break anymore hearts. I don’t want to rip my kids lives apart just to satisfy my own wants and needs.

And that boils down to the point where I say I cant. Where Im going to write out this long blog post and then delete it, because what if he reads it? I cant tear my kids lives apart after I already did last year. Its my fault they love Captain America. Im the one who gave him the stamp of approval and encouraged their relationship. And now I want to kick him out of their lives? How am I supposed to do that? How can I willingly break 4 hearts just to satisfy my own, which will be broken in the process?

And what if this is just a phase? What if Im just hormonal or having a bad week? I was so over the top madly in love with Captain America. It was a love I needed to feel for the rest of my life, and I would have bet my soul on it. How can I throw that away? How is it that Ive just let go of that lonely feeling I used to get when he didn’t live here? I was miserable waiting on him to move in. I remember waiting up when he would work late just so I could talk to him on the phone. I was able to forgive the hard no, and look past the smoking. I was walking on clouds when we first starting dating. I felt whole, like Id found what Id been missing.

And now, I just feel out of place in my own house. I feel like Im living someone else’s life, and Im just outside looking in. Its like its a bad movie and Im cringing at every scene. I feel like Im walking around with this secret, this time bomb, waiting to go off. And Im scared it might just be the depression that is making me feel this way. So I can’t bring myself to say it aloud. Or even tell Carrie Bradshaw. I don’t even allow myself time to think about it, because it scares me. It doesn’t scare to be alone, as it once did. It scares me to hurt the people I care about the most. My superheros, who didn’t ask to be in the middle of yet another divorce and the man I adore, who I really wanted to spend the rest of my life with.

I want to make this clear, this isn’t something I’ve planned or wanted. It just happened, and I don’t know how to go back. But I am trying. I am reminding myself everyday of all the things I once loved about Captain America. I pointing out all the little things he does, and how lucky I am to have him. I’m taking the time to rememorize his face, and laugh at his jokes. I am trying to make this work, I haven’t given up yet. I don’t want to give up. I want to fall back in love.