Thursday, September 18, 2008

Bio-Dad

I know the rest of my posts have been about my divorce, but with my birthday being this week, my dad is weighing on my mind.

My parents divorced when I was very young - I have no memories of them together and have never seen a picture of me with both of them. I was fortunate, though, because although my parents despised each other, I spent a lot of time with both of them as well as my maternal and paternal grandparents.

That is until 6th grade. It was then that my dad remarried to a woman (step-mom #1) that I did not get along with. She convinced him to move to southern Missouri, where she is from - no call, no nothing, to me to let me know this was happening.

My mom made me go down there for a 2 week visit the summer between 7th and 8th grade. I WAS MISERABLE. I'll be the first to admit I could be pretty prissy and along with that came bratty when I was younger. Things had to be a certain way, the house had to be clean, etc. Well...their house was disgusting. Her 2 daughters were evil...they threw their crap any and everywhere. I remember the kitchen being disgusting, as well as the bathroom. Of course there was no bedroom for me, so I had to sleep on the couch and had no where to put my things. The nearest mall was 2 hours away and the only place we went was church. I called my mom everyday crying for her to come and get me.

My dad was in a Christian singing group that traveled to auditoriums/churches to perform. The last straw for me was when he tried to pass step-mom#1 off as my mother to hide the fact that he was divorced. Ummmm....excuse me, this woman is NOT my mother. I had had it - he drove me back home the next day and I never saw her again.

I remember crying at my 8th grade graduation because my bio-dad was there. When I graduated from high school, I refused to invite him. Luckily my mom agreed that it was my decision.

They divorced shortly thereafter, after she gave birth to my youngest brother.

Somehow my dad ended up in the middle of nowhere Tennessee and had full custody of my brother- he was working at the....are you ready for this...Piggly Wiggly. And he had apparently met a woman that was a checker there and they decided to get married. Do you think he bothered to tell me??? Nope.

Well, I guess that's not fair on my part, he was considerate enough to send me an e-mail the day before the wedding informing me that it was happening. Classy, huh?

Shortly after the wedding, he convinced my grandma to move down there so he could help her more...scratch that, I mean she could help him pay his bills. My grandma moving there was the only thing that got me to visit - HER, never my dad.

I'll just say Step-mom#2 is C-R-A-Z-Y!!! I'm talking certifiable.

The morning of my wedding I get a frantic call from Grandma who said she may not be able to come because the bitch decided she didn't want to meet any of my dad's family and my dad was going along with it. The next call is that Grandma is now driving from Tennessee to St. Louis BY HERSELF!!! I couldn't believe this was happening. I mean, I couldn't really do much about it. It is a 4 hour drive each way, it's not like I could leave and go and get her.

Finally bitch decides she would come and they all start the drive. Apparently it was a miserable drive and the bitch bitched the whole way here. Wanna know the kicker, when they got to my wedding bitch wouldn't get out of the car. SERIOUSLY!!! She sat in the damn car during pictures and for the entire ceremony!!! And because of her, they had to leave right after the ceremony. I could have given a rat's ass about my bio-dad being there, but this mean that my Grandma had to leave. I could have killed that woman. I have yet to see her since this happened and apparently my Grandma won't talk to her either.

My dad is very lucky that my Grandma lives close to him - if it weren't for that I would never have any sort of communication with him. Hell, as it is I see him for a total of about 10 minutes a year and talk to him for maybe 2 of those 10 minutes.

I feel bad about it because I know it hurts my Grandma to see us not get along. Again, I know nothing of why my parents divorced. Some days I think I want to know, but others I don't. To me, it doesn't really matter. I mean, even if my mother cheated on him with 2,000 men, that has nothing to do with me. He was man enough to make a baby - he should be man enough to be a father. How hypocritical is it for him to be a Christian, a music minister for his church, and to basically deny he has another child???

I spent most of my adolescent years as well as my early 20s resenting my little brother. How was it fair that my dad disowned me, but then had full custody of him??? What did I do??? Obviously, I know the answer is nothing and I know what's done is done. There is no going back. I don't think I could ever forgive my dad for hurting me, but I guess he'd have to ask for forgiveness before I could really contemplate that choice.

I am now at a place in my life where I am at peace with the situation. I'm stubborn and I'm not going to be the first to give in. Apparently he feels the same way. I've just learned to live with the fact that my dad will never be there and he cars so little about me that he almost let his 3rd bitch of a wife make him miss my wedding.

Thank God I have a mom and a step-dad who love me and who would do anything in the world to make me happy!!!

Friday, September 12, 2008

Untitled

I have so many things that I want to share, I'm not really sure where to begin. I guess I'll begin with what's currently on my mind.

A friend pointed out to me in an e-mail that the tone of my last post may have not been what you have come to be used to from me. That it seemed that it was to show you that I'm not really as strong as you think that I am.

You know what, she's right. I didn't think about it while I was writing, but I don't feel that anything I've done makes me strong or brave or whatever adjective you can plug in here. I feel like a coward. I had so many opportunities to walk away, to end things, and I didn't because of pride.

I was far to proud to admit that I was in a bad relationship.

I had become "that" girl that people think is a fool for staying in an abusive relationship. It hurts me to even type that because when I was younger I ofter wondered why someone would stay with another person that abused them in anyway.

I wish I had a good explanation as to why I stayed, but I don't. I thought he loved me, and who knows maybe he really did. I thought marriage would change things, as I said it did, but for the worse.

I recently told a good friend,C,g of mine that it was easier to end things with Ex than it would ever be to break up with a boyfriend now. As soon as the words came out of my mouth, I though, "How fucked up is that?" "How can it be easier to end a casual relationship than a marriage?"

I think I was just that done with everything. I was tired of pretending to the outside world that everything was ok while I was falling apart inside. I was tired of hiding the bruises and making up lies if they were seen. I was...just tired.

That's what lead to the events of our break-up.

It was a Thursday night. We were supposed to be moving into what is now my house the next morning. Ex wanted to go visit a friend who had just returned how from a 3 month TDY. No problem - I just asked that he be home at a decent time so that we could get an early start.

Several hours later, I tried to call. His phone was off. I called his friend, his friend answered. Ex was not with him - he was in Tennessee visiting his family. I-LOST-IT. I was done. For some reason, that was the lie that finally broke me. He came home about 2:oo in the morning. I didn't speak, in fact I slept on the couch with the dogs.

The next morning - it was over. I told him he was not moving with me. I was done.

I think he thought it was a joke. He took off with only the clothes on his back and was gone.

I was relieved and so flippin' scared. I didn't know what I had just done. I mean - he was my HUSBAND. Did I really just tell him I wanted a divorce? And then there was the practical problems. His friends and his brothers were lined up to help us. I was screwed. I cried for a long time and I remember staring around in disbelief at the mess I was facing.

I called my brother and told him everything. He and a friend agreed to come help me the next day. Thank God for them. They moved the spare bedroom furniture, all of my living room furniture and a ton of boxes for me. All they would allow me to do form them is buy them lunch.

I talked a lot to C and she convinced me to call around and hire movers for the rest of my things. I did just that. When the movers left and my old house was empty and clean - for the first time throughout the whole ordeal - I FELT PROUD. I hadn't told my parents what was going on because this was all happening over Mother's Day weekend and I didn't think it was fair to my mom - and I didn't feel that my parents should help me get out of the mess I'd gotten myself into. I needed to do it on my own. And for the most part, I did, and all in a matter of 4 days. The only people that knew what was going on were my brother, his friend, and, of course C.

As the weeks passed, it became clear that my marriage was indeed over. Any little shred of hope I'd had for things to get better were gone. It became evident that I needed to put my life back in order and get myself to where I needed and wanted to be.

That's where I am now. I am working on building better friendships, more friendships, and to be a better friend in general. I am trying to be closer to my family and spend more time with them than I had in the 3 previous years. I am certainly spending more time alone, more time thinking, more time reading, and more time being a good dog mommy. I am learning more about myself every single day - and sometimes I like what I find out, others, not so much, but it's still me, and I've learned to accept that.

So maybe that does make me brave in some people's eyes. Eh, again, I don't think anything I've done has made me brave - I'm simply surviving the best that I know how.

Some say writing about what's happened to me makes me brave. I don't know about that either. It simply feels good to get it out. And I have to believe that there is a reason that I've gone through what I've gone through. Maybe the reason is this blog - maybe I'll help another young woman get out of an abusive relationship a little sooner than she would have on her own, maybe someone going through a break-up or a divorce can find comfort in my experiences. I'm a firm believe in the sayings that God doesn't give you more than you can handle and everything happens for a reason. God has certainly taught me I can handle this and if my blog helps even a single person in the slightest way, then it's reason enough for me to keep going and to keep writing.

Wednesday, September 10, 2008

Untitled

This year has been a roller coaster ride. A ride that for the most part I could have avoided if I'd have been open and honest with myself and my loved ones.

My relationship with Ex started out very quickly and I would later find out started with a bunch of lies. We met and then about 3 weeks later went out for the first time. We slept together that night. I knew if was a dumb thing to do, but I was single, so was he (or at least I thought). He was still asleep when I left for work the next morning.

I must have still been drunk - I left a strange man alone in my apartment while I left for work. Genius!

I came home from work, half expecting him to still be there. I found my bed made with a note from him on my pillow, and a Rolex on my dresser. Turns out he left it there purposefully so that he'd have an excuse to come back.

He did come back for his watch and things progressed from there. He told me he worked for a mortgage company that went bankrupt and therefore had lost his job and was eagerly looking for a new position. He also told me that he and his family had recently gotten into a big fight and he had moved out and was staying with a friend, who happened to be my neighbor.

We spent pretty much every evening together - I admit it, I was lonely and it was nice to have him around. Things were going really well. Eventually, he officially moved into my apartment. We celebrated Christmas together, the Valentine's Day, and all of the other random holidays.

We moved into a house, did a lot of work to said house, and then were engaged the day before my 26th birthday.

Truth be told - the engagement should have never happened. By that point, the relationship had already turned physically abusive and I was being taken advantage of on an almost daily basis. But I thought things would change. They did change, but not for the better.

A few months after the engagement (and coincidentally the day after I had picked up my bridal gown), we got into a pretty big argument. I was thrown down the stairs, thrown into walls, grabbed by the wrists, hit, pushed into the back door hard enough to rip off the curtains, blinds and crack the glass, and finally locked out of my own house without the keys to my car. At the time, I don't think I realized just how lucky I was to have made it out of there with no serious injuries.

That day, I decided I'd had enough. I was tired of being used and abused. He was still without a steady job and was smoking pot several times a day.

I should probably back up and tell you that I'd never been around drugs of any kind until I met him. I'd obviously never done drugs, and hadn't even seen pot. In fact, the first time I saw it, Ex was making a joint IN MY APARTMENT ON MY COFFEE TABLE without first asking if I had a problem with it. Should have been my first clue as to who he was in the relationship for.

Anyway - back to the day of the fight. I decided to temporarily move back into my mom's house while I found an apartment of my own. Friends took me out that night and went back to the house with me to help me get my things. I stayed at my mom's for a month - all but completely calling off the wedding. I honestly don't remember all of the details, but Ex had found a new job, convinced me he was determined to make a better life for the two of us.

Against the wishes of my family and friends and against my better judgment, I moved back in and the wedding planning continued...along with the drug use and the abuse and the lack of a steady job.

I think at this point I stayed in the relationship out of embarrassment. I mean, I was in the midst of planning a huge wedding, had managed to spend a ton of my parents money, my bridesmaids had already paid for their dresses, all because of me. How could I admit that I had made a mistake? My parents hated Ex and had offered to cover every last financial obligation that had been brought on because of the wedding if I would cancel it, but I couldn't bring myself to do it.

I've never told anyone this before, but right before I walked down the aisle, I lost it. As in crying uncontrollably. I think my step-dad thought it was just normal "I'm getting married" jitters and he tried to calm me down, but it was really me almost leaving Ex at the alter. I was so close to turning around and not looking back. But again, I was a coward and I cared to much about what other people thought to actually walk away.

See - there were plenty of opportunities for me to end things before they got so out of control. I'll get into more about the flaws in our relationship in another post and eventually, I'll fill in the details about our marriage and our divorce.

Tuesday, September 9, 2008

Welcome to my second blog. My goal here is to be as anonymous as possible. Along with that comes complete and total honesty - about every aspect of my life.

Hopefully I won't offend - but if I do, hey, that's life. Please consider this my apology.

I'm off to bed now, but there will be more posts very soon.

Hope you enjoy!