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I have no idea where I have been; life has just been far to crazy for me.  

At this point I am just trying to be the best of me, and that is a constant struggle and juggling act.  To balance being the best mom, the best wife, the best student, the best employee, etc. It seems as though it is never ending.

I did get a promotion, I went from a “BISS” (floor worker) to a “BISS” supervisor in 4 months and then just promoted to case manager and am currently training with my predecessor before taking the reins June 1st.

So yea, Del is doing well. Tricia is amazing, husband is here.

That’s it for now.


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So I had planned on spending today pouring my heart out a little more: getting some more thoughts, emotions, fears on the page.  Then hubs started puking, Lil Man came home from school and then started puking, and when I thought it was going to be an ok night (as the boys had stopped puking) my SIL and Lil Miss started puking and thus I was up until about 2 and back up at 4:15 with Lil Miss puking some more.

I am thinking I will probably need a nap, but since hubs is scheduled to work and all the other adults are sick I am not sure when that’s going to happen.  (See also: THANK GOD FOR HAND WASHING.  I totally learned how to do it “right” and effectively when mom was going through chemo and I can’t count how many illnesses it has saved me from.)

Thus, I think tomorrow (as long as everyone remains healthyish) I will pour my heart out and get some things out then.

Another layer

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“People are like onions. Everytime you think you know something about them, you discover another layer underneath.”

I am fairly open, I am aware that the only way people are going to understand various things is to have people speak out about them; be the face of them.

I am fine being the face of things; I proudly wear my labels as an ACOA, rape/incest survivor, special needs parent, non-traditional student, and self-injurious.  But, I have spent years hiding, pretty well denying, a label that I should be wearing.  It’s a label that gives me butterflies as I sit here getting ready to type it.


I am, in no uncertain terms, an addict.  Yet, when asked what I am the face of or talking about me and my past I never use that term.  In fact, I often comment on how my family has history (a strong history of) addiction, I just fail to mention I am part of that history.

But, I can’t hide it any longer.  And I am not even sure why I hide it; I mean I know why, I am scared of what people will think and say.  But, why?  I am not ashamed or worried about anything else in my past (which a lot of the dumb things I chose to do occurred or were a result of not being sober).

I spent much of my youth from about 14-15 using pain meds and alcohol.  I mean pain meds were easy to get, I was an active kid who was prone to injury, I often went to the doc for an injury and they would write me a script.  While I took them “as prescribed” I would take them too long (when I actually no longer needed them), I would find away to get different meds so I could “alternate” and maintain the high longer.  I would toss in alcohol when I could (my parents were pretty open about/to it).  (DISCLAIMER (I told you I need to reread this): My parents were open about alcohol, that it wasn’t taboo, my parents didn’t know about a lot of the drinking that occurred nor the extent to which it happened).

It made me numb, I made dumb decisions on it.  I hurt myself and others, but I still doubt that many people of my youth realize what I was doing.  After all most addicts are good at manipulating the situation.

Yet, still this label has been one I denied and disowned which in the long run did as much harm to me and my psyche as if I had denied my own left arm.  Because this label, being an addict, is as much a part of me as my left arm.

What baffles me is when a friend slips or enters recovery I am the first to be there, but never saying a word about my issues, I offer to go to meetings and have a “safe space” at my home.  All the while biting my tongue and not finding the camaraderie I could have, should have.

So, what brought me to the point of revealing this layer? Well, I slipped and fell, HARD, this week.  We have been having lots of struggles, mostly financial, and this isn’t an excuse just a telling of the events.  I ran out of coping skills, ultimately that is what happened, I ran out of fucking coping skills.

I started popping again, finding a way to take either vicodin or oxy every hour.  Never letting my feet touch the ground, so to speak, for about a week.  I would pull into work and start calculating when I could leave and get home to take another pill.  I would take a pill and immediately look at the clock and figure out when I could take another.  This whole time rationalizing that I was “taking it as prescribed.” (technically I wasn’t taking any more pills than what the bottle said, never mind I wasn’t in pain).

I finally told hubby 2 nights ago, I snuck a pill in yesterday morning, then he made them disappear (honestly, I wasn’t here so I have no idea about the disappearance–other than I asked him to get them someplace I don’t know of) and bought me pomegranate juice (I love pomegranate juice).  I still have been holding close to my secret.

Ultimately I chose to peel open this layer because I can no longer be silent, because the silence is killing me it’s allowing my illness to fester and then allows it to be fed.  And I know that’s not ok. I need a support network more now then ever, one that I know “in person” doesn’t exist but one that I know I have here “online” and far away.

I know many of my friends will recoil, wondering how it could be, I don’t know how or why I just know it is.  I just know I can’t go on denying such a huge part of me.  I need to find the fellowship, I need to be able to reach out when I am falling down that black hole.  I need help figuring out what this means for me, my life, and how this slip is going to color my world from now on.

I am a terrible blogger….

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I have been on a bit of an impromptu hiatus.  I needed the space, I needed to breathe,  I needed to find me in the world.

Although I still haven’t completely succeeded in the last one I am well on my way.  I have forged my own path, I have began to become the person I was meant to be, doing the things I was meant to do.

A quick update; Lil Man is doing well.  He is now in school and minus one escape to the road is doing great there with lots of progress.  Lil Miss is full of the awesome and is doing amazing in school; actually the only concern I have is how far ahead she is and the behavior we could see if she becomes bored in classes. Hubby is awesome, he got a promotion at work to Loss Prevention and is loving every minute of it (this being the guy who threatened to greet my uncle, who happens to be a cop, as “The Man”). 

I have found a new job, one that appreciates what I bring to the table and allows me to flourish working with this population.  I went from young kids (6-12ish) to working with at-risk teen girls.  I am in love, I get to use my knowledge and training in sexual assault and domestic violence and truly grown as a person and a professional here.  As of today I am officially a supervisor, after being with the company for only 4 months, it’s a great feeling.

I completed my BA in Psychology (graduated December 14th) and am going back to class in a few weeks, I am hoping to get a second BA in before I start grad school–if I am accepted–in the fall.

2013 is looking bright, I can’t wait; I am excited to be where I am but even more excited about where I am going and where I will end up.  I have set a few “resolutions” for myself, although they are more like goals.

One, being starting to attend church.  With my work schedule this maybe hard but I am hoping to make it once a month.  I have been longing for and searching for my spiritual home for awhile, a bit deterred of following the religious/church path.  Then I began to look, again, into the Episcopal church; I need to go on a Sunday and such but, fingers crossed, I think I may have found my home in the Episcopal church at a congregation about 20 minutes from home.

Second, I would love to participate in a 5k for charity this fall.  So getting myself up and moving is going to be key, thankfully I have a bunch of girls at work that are willing to help keep me motivated.

I have also set goals such as reading 30 books this year, I want to get back to blogging and writing.  I would also love to buy a house this year (although this is very much up in the air at the moment).  But most of all I want to enjoy my time, I want to appreciate all that is happening and all that will happen.  I look forward to finding my zen


I can’t even think of a title…

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Well, it has been too damn long; not sure how long as I haven’t checked the date of my last post, but I just know it’s too long.

The past while has been a bit hellacious; dealing with school, idiot family members we live with, special needs parenting, and the parenting of my mini-me.

To start school; dude, I am 18 weeks away from having my degree and I am unconcievebly thrilled I am this close to being done with my bachelor’s.  Yet at this point when I should be so excited and feel so close to all my hopes and dreams (including, having a graduate degree by the time I am 30–which I am right on track for) is when I feel the furthest away.

This segways nicely into the idiots we currently live with.  My husband’s Uncle chose to quit his job and do car tint (a job he has never done nor knew how to do) free-lance. 

This means he had to buy all the equipment and supplies to tint without guarantee of jobs.  Yea, genius.  My sister-in-law moved up on the 4th of July; supposedly was going to make my life easier, help with the kids so I could sleep after work (YAY graves) and get homework done.

Yea, not happening.  I had exactly 2 conditions to her living with us without concern of her paying us anything.  Help with the kids (ya know, actually help) and be enrolled in school.  The first being a constant battle, the second she hasn’t even applied to school yet, so yea.

These two on their own would drive me insane; together I feel like I am in a constant state of WTF? moments.  My husband and his uncle decided we should move (which I supported), the move took us 30 minutes south of our current jobs (mine and hubby’s) and reduced our bathroom count to 1 instead of 2. 

So quick re-cap; uncle “self-employed,” sister-in-law suppose to be secondary care-taker to kids, 30 minutes from work (instead of 5), me working full-time plus school, 6 adults and 2 kids living in a 4 bedroom house with ONE bathroom.

So now that we live in this house, in the same town as my abuser and father live (yea, we are on a fuckin’ role), I have to leave for work prior to hubby getting home. Thus, SIL really needs to be helping with kids which is in no way occurring without pulling teeth.

Nearly a week ago I am leaving for work at 10pm, like normal, knock on SIL’s bedroom door and tell her Lil Miss is still awake is on the couch playing computer games (she was getting a break because she had done really well since Lil Man had been melting down for about 2hours before I had to leave). 

I make it out the door, almost to the truck before I hear Lil Miss just screaming and crying (she missed daddy and I was leaving after all).  I waited a moment thinking “SIL will get her,” she’s still crying; so I go back inside.  SIL had never even opened her damn bedroom door to tell Lil Miss to come lay on her bed; which is all she would have had to do.

Literally my SIL didn’t get up, walk less then 10 feet to console her niece! Furious does not begin to describe my emotion.

Oh and prior to moving into this house (literally 2 days before moving) the Uncle and SIL had done a yard sale, took part of that money and bought fucking concert tickets to Iron Maiden.  Yep, you read that right no need to re-read it, promise.

Through this all Hubby and I have had to pay all the bills, and Uncle and SIL still have the audacity to be annoyed and pissy about shit. 

Now, because of having to pay all the pills, the finances aren’t in place for me to be able to take my GRE (a $200 test) and apply to grad schools (do you know how much application fees are?! OMG!).  So, if I am lucky I can start in 2014; that is if the finances work out by then.

Ok, to the kids; Lil Man is officially 3 (birthday was on Saturday).  This birthday had to be the most difficult for us so far; when his sister turned 3 she got a bike and was able to really enjoy her birthday. 

He still doesn’t have the balance or coordination to ride a bike, and most of the ride on toys or trikes are only up to 40lbs (which he almost weighs now).  He couldn’t care less about birthdays; presents are too over stimulating so we don’t wrap them, just keep them hidden until after cake and give them to him.

Lil Miss is so much like me. She tries her best to interact with Lil Man and make sure he stays out of trouble. She also spends a lot of her time interpreting for Del.  I love her and that she is so helpful, but I also know she has to just be a kid; I mean she is only 4.5. 

But beyond that, Uncle and SIL want little to do with her.  They prefer to hang out with Lil Man; after all, he is still a cute “baby” tantrums and all (which now include severe head-banging).  Lil Miss is just me in a small body.

I have taught her she has control over herself and her body.  I have suck out doctors that allow her to make decisions during exams (like telling them she doesn’t want to take off her pants),  I have worked to allow her to feel free to tell an adult “no” when appropriate (some things are non-negotiable, others are very negotiable).

But, to Uncle and SIL it just looks like she is spoiled; and often hubby and I argue over it.  She is strong and I refuse to parent that out of her.  She now accepts when I tell her she can’t have something from the store (she may ask me for 8 MILLION things but she accepts no every time, without a fit).

I refuse to teach her she can’t come to me and tell me her wants and needs; I might not always be able to give her what she wants when she wants it but she can ALWAYS tell me anything. 

In the end life has been hell, turned upside down, and I still have no idea how I am making it through or what I am going to do from here.  Because what I thought my plans were aren’t too promising as of today; which makes me sadder than anyone could ever get. 

I wish I could say I would be back, more often and more consistently; but I just can’t.  I barely make it through one day without bawling, so yea writing it out would probably be good, but most days I am to fuming to make coherent posts. 

I hope to be back, to be more consistent in posting, and to be better at handling things but none of those things are things I can say for certain are going to occur, unfortunately.


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Avoidance, man am I good at it (just ask the Hubby), I have been avoiding dealing with anything for too long.

I have been avoiding planning a move, or lack there of, for months.  First, bring it up in conversation just causes a conversation that goes in circles.  Numerous, small diameter circles; I hate it.

I have been avoiding  figuring out the future; because for the first time the future scares the crap out of me.  I mean really, I’m a college student, I’m 24 but I’m a mommy with everything I am.  I stand firm in my decisions as a mom, but I still have so much I want, feel like I have, to do.

I want my PhD (or PsyD), I want to take the time and get my degree, become a licensed psychologist, to do counseling, so much.  But when I look at it I have to choose; I have to choose because it’s 5-7 years of my family’s life.

Do I apply and attend (if accepted) the school of my dreams, the school that is line with my practitioner goals at the sacrifice of a familial support system for us?  What happens if Lil Man needs more therapies then I can juggle, what if his behaviors get worse?  I mean we have already seen a significant regression in behaviors with me returning to work.

Do I apply and attend a school I am nearly sure I will be accepted at, a master’s program not a doctoral program, where we will have friends and family?  Then I know I have the support if we need more assistance with Lil Man, but the school isn’t in perfect line with my practitioner goals and theories.

Or, do we stay here; I work at a place that has little regard for their employees, when Lil Man is showing regression.  I have been here for 30 days, Lil Man has returned to poo smearing, melt downs have increased, and hitting/head banging have become terrible.  Here where we have little to no help, where I wouldn’t be able to get into school, but we’re “safe.”

For the first time in my life, I am scared of the future.  I am scared of making the wrong decision, I am scared of what time will do to Lil Man, I am scared to death what Lil Miss is going to have to deal with over this time. Can my family handle me being in school for another 5-7 years? Should I be done?  Am I just being selfish insisting I need to continue, I can get a good job in my field with a BA just wouldn’t be doing therapy.

All I have done, anytime I am alone recently I am bawling over where we are now and where we might be in the future; how Lil Man’s behavior has regressed and wondering how I will handle it in the future.  What if none of the things we are doing now help?  Of course, I will still love him fully but how can I manage his behaviors in 3, 5, 10 years down the line?

Special Needs Ryan

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Well it’s been a few weeks.  I have had a shitty past few weeks, I’ll work on updating soon.  But for now just some Ryan.

Go to Sunday‘s place and check out the rest of the ladies (and Tom) who are linked up for their take on this weeks Ryan picture.

A sweet, sweet break


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