“Breathe out. So I can breathe you in.

Hold you in.And now,I know you’ve always been. Out of your head”

I’m alone tonight. The heroes are with Jonathan Kent and Captain America is working a double. So for the first time in I don’t know how long, I am alone, and I am sober.

This is triggering for me, because I’m not used to silence anymore. I’m not comfortable with it. My first thought after I realized how alone I was and would be was it’s good weather for a drink. And it is. It’s hoodie cool, perfect to sit out on the porch and sip whiskey. We live in the country so there are all kinds of sounds to listen to as well as the neighbors.

I thought about the warmth trickling down my throat. Warming me from the inside out, and making everything calmer, a bit hazy. I thought about how normal it would be to end this evening with a drink. And that I could stop at one, because I wouldn’t want to get sloppy.

Then I let the dog and the cold air blasted me in my face and I realized I had to shut that train of thought down. I cannot glamorize my alcohol abuse with calmness and normal and ok. I have to see for it was to stay sober. I was selfish for over a year. I don’t remember whole days. I missed out on things with my family and friends because I was too “sick”.

4 years ago, this all started as a drink every now and then. Then it was every weekend, then every other day. Then every day. It took my best friends mom dying after being an alcoholic for 30 years for me to wake up. It took me wrecking my body and being put in the hospital. It took me thinking I had done permanent damage to my liver.

I can never just have one drink. I can’t open myself up to that. So as triggering as tonight will be, with the silence and sleeping alone, I will just have to power through. Because not only do my boys deserve a healthy present Mommy, but I deserve to be a healthy present Mommy.

Stay safe.

“Look at the stars.

Look how they shine for you.”

I feel like I have matured over the last year. I am totally sober since Sept 11, 2021. I am depending more on myself, and less on others for my own happiness. And I have came to terms, that things will never be what they once were. What’s lost is lost. We can never truly go home again. I’ve also realized that I’m responsible for my own future. There’s no reason to whine and cry about someone else’s actions. I can only make positive changes to myself, and enforce those positive changes in my boys. I’ve spent the last few years in such a depressed, toxic state. I allowed myself to wallow and blame others for what was happening in my life. That’s not to say that others are changing their ways; in fact, they are sticking to them more then over. This new prescriptive has allowed me to see so many red flags in the relationships i formed. Some I have ended and cut off. Others, I have not. I cannot. You can love someone, and it hurt you to do so. I have tried closing my heart up, and having only a roommate type relationship with Captain America, but it never works. I do love him, I am in love with him, and he is amazing with my boys. But he hurts me, and he knows it and doesn’t care. This is a cycle that I have been unable to break and unsure how. I can’t fix my heart, unless I break my boys. And I wont put my feelings before them again. I’ve had quite a few health scares in the past few months. Some have been serious, and that has allowed epiphanies on its own. I hope no one ever finds themselves in my situation. But I have a feeling it’s all too common.

I collect stars, scars, and my own broke heart

I had the dou le surgery yesterday. Gall ladder andbreast lump removal I am work out and in pain, but I’m not shut laying in bed like I did with my hernia repair.i. up and mvi g around thats good. The boys and capt. Are being amazing.

This was written after pain medicine was taken. But hopefully everyone understood. I’m moving around fine, and not just laying in bed, like I did with my hernia repair. The pain has been minimal. The boys and Capt have been great.

I’m not back at work yet ( still have another week out), and yesterday was the day I’d ventured out of the house. But everything is going ok. My boob does not look entirely too gruesome, although when you look at the front of me as a while, I do look like a trauma victim with all my wounds and previous scars. I’m not sporting a c-section scar, 5 hernia wound scars, 4 gallbladder wounds, and a major breast wound. I will not be attempting a 2 piece anytime soon. I’m not sure how the newest scars interact with the tattoos on my stomach yet either.

Thanks for the prayers, good vibes, and happy thoughts. Means alot. Be kind to one another 🙂

“An if we’re being honest….”

Sorry that I have been MIA for a few months. It’s been filled with Covid fear, hospitalizations (non covid related), school starting back, sports, and abstaining from drinking (30 days sober!!!!).

My gallbladder is on the Fritz and coming out in a few weeks. My anxiety and depression are holding steady and for some insane reason I took myself off all anxiety and depression meds, but 1 low dose antidepressant, in July. The world feels a little brighter and a lot more clear, especially since I’m sober. I’m getting out of bed. I’m not sick every morning and smelling like booze. I’m not saying ridiculous things to people or checking my phone the instant I wake up to do damage control. For the first time in well over a year, I feel as though I am living my life instead of drinking it.

That brings me to my next topic. I’ve had a lump in my breast for the last 2 years. On all my previous mammos, it’s looked ok. However in the last 6 weeks or so, it’s started to hurt, and you can easily feel it just by rubbing a finger over the area. I had a mammo and ultrasound last week, and the doctor did not have promising news. The lumps has doubled in size in a little over a year. It has also changed shape, and appearance. He is worried it’s cancer. I go into tomorrow for a image guided biopsy at 9 am. The procedure doesn’t worry me. The results scare the living shit of me. I wont know for 3 to 5 days, and that is going to be hell. I’ve tried all week to be positive for everyone else, we won’t know till we know! Or all we can do is pray and hope for the best!, because I know that’s what everyone needs to hear. But on the inside I am screaming and crying and preparing. I do not want to go in there with my hopes up and expecting to hear it’s just a huge non cancerous fibroidandronoma ( I know that’s spelled wrong). Just to be told no its cancer. Because I would lose every ounce of my shit and fall apart, and being a mother and wife I don’t get that luxury. So I’ve done research and have an idea of questions to ask. The one thing I am counting on is that if it is cancer, it’s only stage 1. We have been monitoring this lump. So it’s not like it’s been growing willy nilly without me knowing. I will also be as aggressive with treatment as I can be.

I love boobs. I think they are beautiful. I love my boobs. I love the way they look in tops, the way people look at the them, and the tops that make men blush. I love that I was able to feed my heroes from them for 4 years. I love I was able to provide supplemental milk for my friends babies when they were sick. I love them. And I will miss them. But if I have cancer, I want them cut off. I do not ever want to go through this again or have a chance for it to come back. I can live with out my boobs. I cannot give my body a chance to make my boys live without me.

And then there’s that. Batman overheard captain America and I talking about my appointment tomorrow, and wanted to know what it was for. So I told him. As soon as I said the word cancer, he looked like he’d been punch in the gut. I reassured him that I would be fine, that I didn’t think it was cancer, that it was just a large tumor, and I just hope he doesn’t worry. He’s not supposed to worry about me.

So if you wouldn’t mine, send a prayer, good vibes, kinds thoughts my way. I would appreciate them very very very much.

Once I get the results, I will update.

Update:

Biopsy wasn’t as scary or painful as I expected. I went to TJ Maxx afterward and bought a very nice soft blanket and im now wrapped up in with the fans on and shades down. Going to try to rest a bit before the numbness in my boob completely wears off. They said results in hopefully by Friday. So fingers crossed, people.

” I hope to arrive at my death late, a little in love and drunk.” Atticus

I just truly love that quote that popped up on my Pintrest one day

Anyway, summer is well underway. So far it is not a notable summer ( Thank You God.) Though In 5 weeks time, our electric box caught on fire, a meth addiction crashed into our electric pole busting it in his, then when we’d finally fixed that Batman flooded our upstairs while we were at work, causing structure damage.

Other than that, everything is going, well smoothly I suppose. I may not be my happiest right now, but I don’t think I’ll ever get that back. So now to accept, and adjust. Bad things have happened. The universe kinda took a shit on me for the past 3 or 4 years, so now I’ve got to figure things out from this point. Hopefully thing will stay boring and go smoothly.

” We made quite mess, babe.Its probably better off this way.

And I confess, Babe. In my dreams you’re touching my face and asking if I wanna try again with you.”

I am so tired of begging to be noticed. Of screaming to get my words heard. I am a mother,a wife. My words, my rules, should be scared. It’s not as if I am blasphemous about anyone’s rights or religion, I don’t say about Jonathan Kent’s personal life, I never come right out and ask if the Penguin is gay, I only speak in positive reinforcements to the heroes, and I don’t even question the hard no.

Yet at the end of the day, I’m the bad guy. I enforce baths, homework, and Graduations. I keep in touch with teachers to know what snacks to send, what forms need sign, and how much money we owe. I organize vacations, call in ADHD meds, rearrange my work schedule so I am off for counselling appointments as well as physical therapy for the Penguins broken foot. I schedule the animals vet appointments.

And somehow I have developed a problem with alcohol, and people wonder why? I don’t drink while the littles are up, and I function fine. However, its enough of a problem that people ask me if I am sober (ok 1 person, multiple times) before beginning a conversation. I want to laugh in their faces. No I am not sober! And even if I wasn’t drunk, I’d be sedated in lala land with nerve pills, so which version do ya want?

I’m just so over this life. I really am. I want disappear. Literally. If I woke up somewhere else tmr, and knew that at a certain fate I’d go home and my kids would be taken care of in the meantime, i would take that deal in a second. And do you know why?

When my biological mother died, who i found, I told every aunt cousin and friend I had, I love you because I needed to hear it back. Finally about 8 hours later one of my aunts said it back.

When my daughter was deemed incompatible with life, nobody in my family acknowledged what had happened. They made me go through with a wedding, 3 days later.

When I was in labor with Batman and had a placental abruption, no one was there when I woke up. A nurse. She told me all the stats on him, but couldn’t tell me the color of his hair or who he looked like. It was 4 hours before I saw someone who wasn’t medical. And that’s only because I sent a nurse after Jonathan Kent because I was losing it.

When Batman had colic, I called an aunt and told her I hadn’t slept more than 45 mins at a time in days, and I was too exhausted to pick him up, and Jonathan Kent had gone back to work, she told me it was my problem and to work it out.

When I was pregnant with Robin, I was on bedrest for 16 weeks. No one listened to the dr and I never got bed rest. I got picking up, chasing, changing a 40lb 2 year old.

Two minutes after I walked in the door after coming home from the hospital with Robin, I had to change Batmans diaper, where he preceeded to kick me in the stomach.

There are many more things I can throw out at my family. Calling me 4 minutes after mother/aunt has passed demanding to take her property.

Asking me to masterbate for you. Asking me for insane amounts of money.

I dont just think my family has taken advantage of me, I think they see me as a walking ATM machine they can order what they want, and to help with the consequences.

This goes for all my family, super heroes, husband’s and ex husband’s.

No one sees mothers. They don’t see the dishes or laundry or dirt in the sweeper after it’s ran. They don’t measure the little amount of sleep. They don’t see the time I put into figuring out childcare.

They don’t see. And they don’t care. Because its a motherfucking man’s world and I’ve got a vagina.

“We all change, when you think about it.We’re different people through all our lives.and that’s okay, that good,

As long as you keep moving. Aslong as you remember all the people you used to be.”

Oh how I do love Peter Pan. The boy who never wanted to grow up, dead or not. And Wendy, the girl who needed to believe so much, she flew.

My dreams for the past few months, have been scattered fragments of my time with Van Helen. From the beginning on a hilltop.  Or the ending on the very same couch we used to cuddle aganist.

However last night, the dream was long, and I was lead through several scenes. All of the dream, I was trying to get to Van Helen. We were on the phone, we were trying to coordinate how to get to one another. There was a parry scene, there was a teenage scene, between us with the fast and furious movie played in the background.

There was an adult scene, showing that each of us had responsibilities we had to tend to. Then finally, we made it to each other. It was passionate, and gentle, and love I had never felt before when we finally finally were together.

We talked about our families. He told me about his business. I told him about my house. It was the kind of conversation 2 adult lovers would have. In my dream, we went through every single way we could be together. But neither of we’re willing to compromise about things.

There was a moment, i was sitting in his lap. His head on my chest, and my head ontop of his. I said I love you so much, and he said it back. But then I pulled his face to mine, said but its not ever us is it. He shook his head no. And shortly after I woke up.

I feel this is Somehow a joining of our subconscious. Idk how much you all believe about Astral projection or joining of dreams. But I feel like the signals and energy I have been sending out in the past few months have finally got enough power that we met.

Or subconsciously.  I think I may have finally, got the closure I was looking for. We love each other. We were that love for one another. Yet, it can’t be.  And now too much time has passed. We’re different people who took different paths. Not all roads lead to the same castle, Jon Snow.

“So this is what I’m up aganist”

You know everyone has that one person they cant live without? Their person, best friend, partner in crime, whatever you wanna call it. That person almost becomes like an appendage because you rely on them so damn much. Every decision is ran by them, basically every minute of your day is replayed to them, and that is just useless because you’ve already spent the day texting back and forth. They are the person you call to help hide the body. The first person you call when you hit the lottery. Or when you find out your marriage is over. They are your person.

Over the last few months, I feel like I’ve been shut out of everyone who matters ( children excluded) To me lives. Not shut out exactly. But expendable. I’m someone they confind in or talk to because I am there. Not because they need to tell me. I’m a therapist. I sit on the couch and list to their shit, and say what I think back, then they leave. Sometimes they reply to the things I have said, and sometimes I’m just left on read.

I’ve watched, closely, over the last 4 or 5 months how people in my life treat me and respond to me. The 2 best friends I thought had, they never bother to reply to my messages. And if I do try to tell them something about my life, they turn it back into them. Even Captain America does it. Leaves me on read, doesn’t reply, or acknowledge or notice.

I can suggest group plans and either nobody will respond, or everyone has other things to do. With the exception of one group of family friends that I have been friends with for 15 + years, no one ever seems to remember I exist for outings. I am very grateful for this family, but I’d like to know how I became a total outcast with the rest.

Processing all this, and figuring out how people really feel about me has been one of the hardest things I’ve had to come to terms with. I know people grow up and move up, that’s Natural. But with these two I’m talking 20+ years of friendship. Now all of our convenersations are superficial and lacking depth or emotions. If I had some issue I needed to discuss or vent about, I guess I’d just let it eat away at me because no one would give a damn.

We had a pretty horrible 3 weeks of problems going on at my house. Our electric panel caught fire and had to be replaced, displacing us for 11 days. None of my friends or family checked on us. As soon as we got back in the house, 2 hours later a drugged up driver crashed intonmy front yard ( 20 ft from where the kids and I were playing), and snapped my electric pole in half. I sent pictures to my “friends”, none of them checked on us. Then on Thursday I found out that my (stay with me) step father who legally adopted then abondded me when my mom died, his oldest son, died. I found out from Facebook. I told my 2 “people”, and while one did seem concerned and sorry, the other didn’t give a damn.

I’m a loss of what to do, or what happened. It really really fucking sucks to know, without a doubt, that if you just disappeared, it would take months for people to notice you were gone.

I swam parallel to the shore

My kids, Capt. America, Jonathan Kent and I embarked on a vacation to Panama City Beach last week. The ocean was amazing, breath taking. From the first scent of that humid salty breeze in Ponce DE Leon, I was immediately relaxed. Qnd of course when the heroes saw the Gulf for the first time, I cried.

They first saw the Alantic Ocean, at Outer Banks, right after my mother/aunt died. That was such a cathartic experience for me. Seeing them react to the ocean for the first time, it’s something I can’t describe. It’s one of the top 3 moments in parenting I’ve experienced.

Watching them take in the Gulfs blue waters, so clear they could see their feet, it was something else. They were able to walk to the buoys during low tide. They found baby ghost crabs, hermit crabs, live sand dollars and a host of fish. They had the chance to swim in coral reefs, and be in area known for sharks and dolphins. ( we didn’t see anytbing). They ate shrimp, and other seafood for the first time. They bulit huge sandcastles and jumped off things into the never ending water.

It was dream worthy

But behind all that I had to fight every second with Jonathan Kent. I had to explain things to qla very drunken Capt. Qnd yes it’s vacation and they should get to have fun and relax. But leaving me as the responsible 24/7 is not nice either.

It did reset my sleep schedule which I am thankful for.

But now I am home. And I don’t have the salty humid air qnd waves crashing to lull me to sleep at night. I donr have that sunset to set all my worries free and end my day at peace.

I have a home that I love and resent.

I have kids who I adore, but sometimes I don’t knownhow to handle.

I have 1 family as family, maybe 2 friends and indont know how to communicate with them. I’m letting them slip away and waving as they go.

I’m so lonely and indont know where to turn. Everyone I care about is 100% tired of my shit. If I told them that in the 48 hrs, I had thought of suicide as an option, they would just look at me and shrug their shoulders because they don’t believe I’ll do it.

And that’s the worst thing you can do to someone in my shoes. Anytime it is mentioned to you, you need to take breath talk them down and then call 911. Suicide ideation is not something to take lightly, bc it is the first step in them taking their own lives.

However, family and friends get tired of. They always think this will be the same as last time but maybe it’s not.

The one time I tried, really tried to commit suicide, I was ignored. I was left alone to fix myself. I lied my way out of help. I went back to unsafe environment. And it’s because no one believed me.

So believe when sometime tells you they are unable to get to shore. That they are trying to swim parallel but they can’t keep their head up. Listen. It doesn’t matter how many hours you’ve listened before, because you are a lifeline. You are an o2 tank giving them air. You are a dialysis machine keeping the kidney running. You may not think that listening to them ramble isn’t help anything, but I promise it is.