Death of a Fairytale

Death is inevitable. We all know that things that breathe and live will eventually die. It could be the death of a parent, a brother or sister, a child, a grandparent, and even our beloved pets. Death is the separation from the physical being that we loved. 
However, the death I am writing this post about is the death of a fairy tale. Today would have been my nineteenth wedding anniversary. I don't write this to gain sympathy, I write to get my thoughts out of my head, sort of like journal therapy.

I married Bill when I was 20 years old. He was 25. I was in love and I had great hopes for our future together, even thoughtI was extremely young. We had our first date on July 18, 1996 and then in November on his birthday, he proposed to me. He was everything I was looking for in a mate. He worked two jobs, he had his own car, paid his own bills, loved me unconditionally and put up with my  young craziness. We married the following year and paid for our wedding and honeymoon. It was the beginning of the great fairy tale. 

My version of the fairy tale is that we would stay married and have a couple of children, work in the fields where we both felt like we were contributing members of society, buy a cozy home, go on dates, travel to the places we had never been before, be involved in our church, nurture our friendships that meant the most to us, spend holidays with family, raise our kids together, support and encourage them through high school, drive them off to college, feel the empty nest, plan weddings for them, see grandchildren come, and retire and be life partners. Is this not what everyone wants when they get married?

Looking back, I think I should have waited to marry. It would have been better to finish college and find a good job and be more self-sufficient. I should have learn to be more independent instead of being so DEpendent on Bill. I realize now that our relationship was supremely co-dependent. I won't disregard the fact that there were great times and wonderful memories made. We created our son and tried to have more children. We bought our starter home and we both worked to make it a place of love and peace. But then the fairy tale began to die in 2008...
I won't go into all the gory details and trust me there are plenty but I tried so hard to make our circumstances different. We were in marriage counseling for a long period of time. I delved into self help books, went to conferences, attended meetings and checked myself on every level, trying to not let the fairy tale die. There comes a time when "the straw that broke camel's back" occurs. That happened in August of 2013. 

I bet you are wondering what killed the "fairy tale"? It comes down to Bill being so addicted to pills and alcohol that it was effecting my son's physical being. It was the most difficult and terrifying decision I made. He had to leave and get his shit together. I had to protect our son at every cost.....even at the cost of losing my marriage. The chaos and perpetual walking on egg shells was exhausting and I never knew which Bill I was interacting with. This is not to say that the destruction was the fault of a child. It was the bad choices and unchanging behavior that resulted in the separation. 

So we separated in October 2013 It was beyond challenging and I really thought I would become destitute. I reacted to the circumstances in unhealthy ways. I was angry, frustrated, and felt like I was going to lose e.v.e.r.y.t.h.i.n.g.! My fairy tale was slipping out of my hands and I didn't believe I could make it on my own.

One day I might reveal more about the specifics about the death of my fairy tale but the fairy tale truly died on Feb. 11, 2015. Bill died and among many other "worst day of my life" was going to my son at his school and telling him the news. It was heart wrenching.

We all can say "we wish...." and I am no different. I wish I could go back and change things but I see now that God was/is protecting me and my precious son. Death is a part of life, no matter how you slice it. Death just plain old stinks! I still find myself grieving in various ways. I put on my brave face and put my big girl panties on and choose to face ALL the challenges of being a single mom. What other choice is there?

My future hope and prayer is that maybe one day God will truly bless with the second chance to live another fairy tale but this time it will have to be one where God is the author and the illustrator. 

Do you ever get tired....?

Lately, I have been tried. Maybe I can attribute it to the chaotic beginning weeks of school and the change of schools for G. It coukd be that something is physically off in my body like low iron, but this kind of tired feels more like.....tired of being the responsible adult/parent, the single mom who is not dealing well with pre-teen attitude. It's the kind of tired where I lay in bed at night and think about all the things I should have done the day before but never got to. I get tired of laying in bed solo with no partner to vent to. No one to share my thoughts and feelings with on a daily basis.And to be brutally honest, I miss the physical touch of a man. I get tired of tackling the constant flow of laundry and dishes. The menu planning and grocery store trips can really wear me down.  I get tired of being the lawngirl, although I'd have to say the only two benefits I get from this are exercise and the sense of accomplishment. I get tired of being the one who has to deal and manage the care of an aging father in law who is falling victim to dementia and that should have never been held responsible for.

 

I get tired. I am tired.

 Tired of fielding endless and sometimes pointless questions from an over curious twelve year old. Tired of trying to explain that I am the mom and when I say "NO", I don't owe you a reason. I get tired of fighting the bed time battle. Just go to bed, you're tired! 
I get tired of fighting with the demons that try to take me down spiritually. Tired of worrying about finances and budgets and bills. 
 It would be so very nice if I could go away and truly get some rest and replenish my spirit,  feed my soul, reconnect with who I am in God's eyes, A place where  someone would take care of all my basic needs and be allowed to just rest. 

I can't be the only one who feels this way. 

Tell me, do you ever get THIS tired?

Vulnerable

I thought about writing this post for awhile now. I think that sharing painful moments of our lives can bring some healing to ourselves and maybe inspire or change someone else's perspective. It's always been a challenge for me to be vulnerable and open to sharing what has occurred in my life over the past few years. It was just two short years ago this month that my life became truly unmanageable and my world seemed to be crumbling right before my eyes. I distinctly remember working as a sub teacher at a local elementary school and I could not stop crying. It was a dark period in my life. My marriage was fractured and toxic, the tangled web of addictions was entangling the man I once loved, being a single mom and worrying about making ends meet, staying strong and protective of a precious boy who was in the middle of his parent chaos, watching my own father struggle with health issues and knowing his time on earth was coming to an end, and everything else in between created so much anxiety and depression, I just couldn't bare it any more. I called my mom on my lunch break and told her I had to go to the ER. I was in the middle of a mental breakdown. I had to call a time-out on my life.
I left my sub job when school was dismissed, coordinated care for Grant and my mom took me to the emergency room.  I could not stop crying! My head was pounding from bouts of an "ugly" cry to the silent whimpering coming from the deepest part of my soul. 
I was asked if I wanted to hurt myself (suicidal). I didn't think I was but I knew something in me had to change. I was also dealing with some other health issues and it was taking a toll on me. I was referred to a couple of mental health hospitals but no one had available beds that night. I had to go home and wait. I was still crying off and on. That is how depression and intense anxiety will bring you to really dark places. The following day, my mom was having hand surgery and my cousin stepped up and offered to help her there and back home safely. I received a phone call mid morning and there was a spot opening up for me at Rolling Hills in Franklin. I packed quickly and after my mom was out of surgery and recovering at my house, my cousin took me there. I won't kid you, it's pretty scary stuff not knowing what you're going into. I knew that fear wasn't as big as the fear I had if I didn't get help from people who knew how to help me. My first night there I was placed on the detox floor and my roommate was detoxing from meth. I was pretty scared and ended up crying myself to sleep. I was moved to a different floor later the next day. There were about 20 people dealing with all sorts of problems. It was an experience that helped me to realize that I wasn't alone and others had more on their plates than I did. There's a quote out there that says, "If we all threw our problems into a circle on the floor, we would go pick up our own problems." That was very true for me. All in all I spent six days there. I learned a lot about how I was coping with all the chaos in my life was extremely unhealthy and adding to the depression and anxiety I was feeling. There was group therapy where I learned about others and how fortunate I felt knowing my "stuff" wasn't as bad as I thought it was. Yes, the breakup of a marriage and family, the effects of addiction, the failing health of a parent, the raising of a child, the issues of self-deprecation......all of that is "BIG" stuff and it can take you down. Mental illness is a real thing, whatever side of the spectrum a person is on. I had to learn that my facade of being perfect in every way was destroying my soul. If you've never been in a mental health facility, it is not camp cupcake. It is a place where you have to get real about what is going on in your life and why you behave in the way you do. You have to deal with the immense pain that you have tried to hide from in very unhealthy ways. It is a place where you can deal with everything and have the support to do so.
I write all of this to say that if whoever is reading this finds themselves in a dark place with no one to talk to or get the help they need, I know where you're conning from. If you need a safe person to go to, I am here. I will listen and I won't judge. I will do what I can to get you to a better spot. 
As humans, we have to take risks in all areas. It was a risk for me to share this with all with you. But if I can help one person, then it was worth the risk of being vulnerable, honest, and open about my story
(loveyameanit)