It’s week’s like this one and the one’s before it that I wish I had my mother to talk to. She’s not dead but she may as well be. My mom had made many malicious, vicious choices in her life that have hurt and affected everyone that loves and cares about her. She has put fake illness on her body in order to gain attention and money. She has done drugs and abandoned my brother and myself when we needed her the most. Everyone has tried to help her and she shits all over everyone that gives her an inch while she runs two miles.

I was standing in Wal-Mart tonight, waiting for my boyfriend to finish trying on some jeans, and I saw an old woman on a motorized cart, with her oxygen tank, and it made me think of my maternal grandma who died four years ago. In that moment, like many moments over the past four years, I wished she were there with me. She was 5’5″ and 90 pounds and I leaned on her so much for support and wisdom and advice.

And while I was thinking about her, I also thought of my mom and how I would give anything to have her to call when shit gets rough and I get in a dark place and need someone to just listen to me. Daughters are supposed to have that in their mothers. Julie has that in me and her step-mom. I want her to always come to one of us with whatever is bothering her.

I almost caved and tried to recall her phone number from my memory, but then I remembered the drugs and the deception and the judgement and I thought better of it. There are way more negatives than positives when it comes to contacting her.

It just sucks. So bad. It would be different if she were dead and she were just someone I couldn’t contact because there was no way to get in touch with her in Heaven. Instead, she’s someone I could very well call, but I would pay for it with a sob story about how hard her life is. There’s no mother or father for me to contact, though both are alive. Because of that, I feel like I suffer in silence most of the time. I’m just glad I’m not mentally in the same place I was when I was a teenager and she was destroying my life one cocaine sniff at a time.


I’m still alive. Just pushing through the work flow, coming home, hanging out, sleeping, and doing it all over again. I’m not the kind of person that enjoy’s the same ol’ shit out of life – but I guess that beats drama. 

I’m still a little battle wounded from everything that has happened. I’m the kind of person that takes a while to recover from hard verbal blows. I discussed how I was feeling with my boyfriend. We talked about everything that happened. It was nice to have a conversation where neither one of us blew up at each other. 

I’m just tired, mostly. My patients and their feelings take a lot out of me on a daily basis. By the end of the week I just want to crawl into bed and stay there until Monday …. but I can’t. Life is happening and I have to happen with it. Especially since I have a ten year old. I wish we had unlimited money. That would take the stress off of 60% of life. 

Everything is just moving forward, and I have to try to swim with the tide. 


I feel like I’m just kind of drifting through the days. I have reached ‘silent mode’ about most anything that matters, because none of it does – not really. If what I said ever mattered, I wouldn’t find myself in the same predicament that I scream and argue and fight for all of the time.

So I will be the one who changes. I just can’t promise it will be for the benefit of anyone else. Or even myself.

It’s like screaming in a room full of deaf people. Everyone just looks at me but nobody can hear me. Maybe it’s better this way.

Words Left Unsaid

So, last week I was complaining about being screamed at by a patient for my supposed incompetence. I have yet to receive an apology for that mistake on her behalf, and I’m not holding my breath either.

Lately I’ve been battling my grandmother’s mood swings. I don’t know if it’s her lack of friendships that drive her to take her shit out on me, or if she just honest-to-god expects more out of me than what I can possibly handle, but I’m exhausted by her constant badgering. The other day she took it upon herself to go get the tags to her car renewed, which sent her on a wild goose chase to pay a license plate fee that I took care of last year. She couldn’t wait for me to handle the tags on a Friday when I only have to work a half day. So she ended up paying for something that I had already paid for, stood in line at the DMV for over an hour, and then when I get home she jumps all over my ass an chews me out for it. This was on Thursday. She was in a shit mood for all of Friday and most of Saturday. Today I tell her I’m going to take my kid to get some new clothes at Wal-Mart and she fly’s off the handle about why I can’t take her to Belk’s and get her some nice clothes. Um. Because she will grow out of them in three months. Because I wear clothes from Wal-Mart. Because those clothes are good enough. That’s why. She was pissed about that. 

So I’ve been dealing with her constant backlash of shit. 

To top that all off – today my sister-in-law brought me a makeup bag that she ordered for me from Thirty-One. I told my boyfriend about this bag a month ago. My daughter stayed the night with her and my brother on Saturday night, so I told them to just bring the bag to me when they dropped my kid off. Having paid 85% of the bills this month all by myself because Grams had a 600.00 repair on her car, I have no cash on me. I’m broke. I get paid once a month and it all went to bills. I went into my boyfriends wallet and pulled out the 25.00 and didn’t think anything of it. After all, he has told me that if I need anything to let him know and he will help me or give me money. I’ve asked him to cover the cable bill twice and he provides the money for gas and food for the month. It was the agreement we worked out because it was just easier than dividing everything up. I don’t care who spends more money a month on actual bills as long as our needs are met. 

When my brother and SIL got here, he came downstairs to get the money and I told him I had already gotten it out. That pissed him off. Apparently going in a man’s wallet is a violation of trust. You just don’t do it. I didn’t get this memo. I had no idea. When Will and I were married I never had a reason to need to go in his wallet so I didn’t. Chesley and Rick didn’t care if I went in their wallet and got their card or some cash. Whoever I’m with is always more than welcome to go into my wallet if they have a reason to. I just assumed that because we are together, we live together, we love each other, and I wouldn’t take something if I didn’t need it – that it would be okay. It wasn’t okay. 

I have been sadly mistaken on the thought process of our relationship this entire time. I know he’s particular about his things and people messing with his things. But he has handed me his wallet before and told me to go to the grocery store. While he doesn’t just offer up money for no reason, he does ask me if I need any. If I do, he gives it to me. 

We spent the better part of the early afternoon yelling at each other, him ripping out all of the contents of his wallet and throwing them at me and telling me to take his cash and his card since that’s all that I cared about since I’m just like every other woman. He called me spoiled (this isn’t anything new), and he told me I couldn’t be trusted if I would just go into his wallet like that. He stomped around outside, ripped a tree down in anger, while I sat on the bed alternating between being pissed off and crying because I didn’t really understand why going into his wallet warranted this kind of reaction. I still don’t understand it. It reminded me of the time my ex-husband was sick and asked me to bring him home some chicken and rice but to make sure it wasn’t he kind with carrots in it. Of course I brought the wrong kind home and he stomped outside and threw the can against the tree. I put up a question on Facebook asking if what I did was right or wrong and got met with a mix of yes and no. Some people (my ex-husband and his wife included) told me that you don’t go into someone’s wallet like that. Others told me that what I did wasn’t wrong, that he shouldn’t have acted like an ass, and that it was okay. So, I don’t know. 

Just because I lived a different lifestyle than him doesn’t mean I’m spoiled. I’m the complete opposite of spoiled. I have nice things that I have busted my ass for. I don’t wear designer clothes or drive a fancy car. I don’t demand that he spend his paychecks on me and my needs. I don’t ask for anything. In fact, after we were done yelling at each other (before round 2 started) he handed me 100.00 and told me that it was for me and whatever I wanted to do. I came upstairs and gave grams 40.00 of it so she’d have some cash on her. I tried to talk to him again and he said something in a smart ass way so I replied in the same mocking smart ass tone and he went outside and ripped a tree down. I got my things and me and Julie went to Wal-Mart by ourselves and I spent the 60.00 I had out of the 100 he gave me on her clothes. So I’m back to square one with nothing – but that’s okay. Julie has some clothes for school. There’s nothing else I need. 

But I’m spoiled. Because I display those traits abundantly. Nobody has ever called me spoiled in their life – and I’ve had some pretty nasty things said to me before. 

It’s funny, because the subject of marriage has come up more often lately. He even asked me my ring size yesterday. We’ve been doing really good the past couple of months. Today set everything back. It has made me question everything again. This isn’t love. What he’s doing isn’t love. Being called spoiled and constantly being compared to “every other damn woman” out there isn’t what I want in a partner. He should want to spoil me. He should apologize to me when he’s acted like an asshole. I don’t know what to do anymore. I am so tired of people constantly taking their shit out on me. I’m tired of being screamed at. I would never do something out of malicious intent. I would never do something while knowingly defying what he has asked me not to do. I didn’t know. Now I know. But now I know a lot more than I knew before. Maybe I need to rethink everything. I want someone that is going to love me and show it every single day. So far I have yet to find that. 

I’m just exhausted. I don’t know what to do anymore. 

No Name Face

My daughter is at her dad’s tonight hence my ability to actually use the lap top and write a blog, though I have not much to update on. When there is no drama happening in my life, I am a pretty boring person. Work was hell today; nonstop and my brain was hurting by the time I left. 

My daughter started 5th grade on Monday. It amazes me at how fast the time has gone. Next year she will be in middle school. In less than eight years she will be graduating high school. In nine years she will be doing her own thing and I will be doing mine. 

This year has flown by. I really thought this year would drag by because of everything that happened. I thought last year would be the year that flew by because I was in la-la land and sooooooo happy and planning the rest of my life with Andy and blah bah blah. I met Charlie and spent some time with him as well as by myself, and here I am – the end of the year is almost three months away. I don’t know. It makes me sad. It makes me happy. I don’t know what I feel. 

I have heard not a word from Chesley or his wife. That has been nice. I find myself wondering just how miserable he is or if he actually went to therapy. Then I realize it isn’t my business and I don’t even care enough to really wonder. It’s just a passing thought in my mind. 

Charlie and I are going to see his family Saturday. Sunday I have to go clothes shopping for my daughter since she grew out of everything I bought for her over the summer. 

What I wouldn’t give to go back sixteen years to my childhood and redo everything while still knowing what I know today. There is so much I would change. I guess that’s the beauty of a chaotic mess and the inability to go back in time; you just have to deal with the choice that you make. And you have to keep going.  

Family Ties


Friday before I left work, I had a patient call me and scream at me on the phone about something that “I didn’t do”. When I tried to explain to her that I had called her insurance company like I told her that I did, she called me a “damn liar” and said she had already had “one incompetent bitch fired from that job” and she would have my job if I didn’t do what she told me that I needed to do. Every attempt to explain my position and the fact that my coworker was sitting there when I made the phone call went unheard as she raised her voice and screamed over me about what I liar that I am. Then she hung up on me. 

I was so pissed off that I started immediately crying. Not because she threatened my job (my boss knows that I do my job, I wasn’t scared in the least that I was going to lose it), and it wasn’t because she threatened to come up to my job (I told her to come on up and do her worst), it was the fact that she called me a liar and wouldn’t allow me to speak or defend myself. I was pissed because I take my job very seriously, and I really really care about my patients and their well-being. I was pissed because I have helped this woman several times with patient assistance for her eye drops as well as given her many samples when she ran out of drops so she wouldn’t have to pay out of her own pocket. To call me a liar and tell me that you’re going to get me fired? After all that I’ve done for you? No way. 

I told my co-worker that I will never help that woman again, and I meant it. Then I called her insurance company and asked them if they had a record of my phone call from earlier this week (they did.) I asked them to call my patient while I was on hold and let her know that I did in fact reach out to them, despite what she was supposedly told, and I did try to help her to the best of my ability. I got my things and went home for the day, but it bothered me all day yesterday, and all the way until I went to bed at midnight last night. In a moment of vengeance I hoped that my patient was upset with herself for having threatened me and my job, as well as calling me a liar. I hope that she tries to call and apologize to me. I won’t take her call, she can speak with my coworker. I hope that she has learned a lesson from accusing someone of something without giving them the chance to defend themselves. I only wish that I could scream at her without giving her the chance to talk and let her know how much it hurt me for way longer than it should have. I wish I could make her feel everything she made me feel on Friday. 

I even went to church tonight and tried to let go of some of the resentment and anger I have for her and what she did. Needless to say I think it’s going to be a 12 step program because I am still really angry. Tonight our pastor talked about how we are losing intamacy with God and the people around us because we are putting everything else first and God last. We are so busy working and trying to prove ourselves to our bosses and other people that we forget to allow God to be front and center. My pastor told us that if we put Him front and center, we don’t have to worry about the rest. 

It’s a very hard lesson for me to learn. I’m always trying to do more and be more at my job. I want that promotion, I want to make more money, I want to be a better provider for my family.If my boss asks me to do something, I do it. The more I do the more he asks of me. It will always be like that. I will always be trying to prove to someone that I’m good enough, even proving it to myself. 

I am so scared of being anything like my mother. When someone calls me a liar, I think that I’m turning into her. If I miss a day of work because I don’t feel good, I feel like a lazy bum because my mom used to lay in bed all day doped up on pills and not taking care of my brother or our family. She didn’t work, she didn’t do anything. Someone telling me I’m a liar is the same as someone telling me that I’m just like my mother. To me it is anyway. And it’s really upsetting. 

It’s funny, I try to do as much with my daughter as I can. When we have the money we will go to the arcade or to the fun park and ride go-karts. We go see movies together. When I think back on my childhood and how much of a burden it was on my mother for her to do any of those things with me and my brother it really pisses me off. Not only is it a simple thing – taking your child to do fun things on the weekend, but it is also enjoyable. I love going to see a movie with the kid. I love going to play arcade games. Taking her to birthday parties or sleepovers or letting one of her friends stay over here is no big deal. It really just solidifies how much my mother didn’t do when I was a kid, and it makes me very very sad for the child that I was. I didn’t really know any better then, but in doing these things with my kid, I realize just how much of a mother she wasn’t. 

I don’t even speak to her anymore, anyway. But it gives me even more of a reason to not want to talk to her. She will never take responsibility for how bad our childhood was. The only time she takes responsibility for the shit we went through is when she turns it around and blames someone else for why she is the way that she is. Then, she points out many of my own flaws to hide herself from her own. There are days that I miss talking to the figment of my imagination that is my mother. Then I remember how much hell there is to pay when she’s having one of her many bad days. And I remember how much she lies and how deceitful she is. 

*Sighs* I’m so tired. I just gotta keep on keeping on, I guess. 

My boyfriend and I are doing really well, though. It has taken a long while for me to adjust and warm up to our differences, but I think I’m there. He will text me throughout the day now, he talks about his day at work when he gets home. Our communication is better and we act like complete idiots around each other which is really fun. 

I am still very much a work in progress and it has taken me a full year to work through most of this crap. But I’m there. I just wish that I would stop caring what people think about me. I wish I didn’t care if someone called me a liar, or fat, or useless, or a terrible daughter. I wish it didn’t bother me that Chesley lied to his wife (again) saying that what I was telling her wasn’t true. People know me based on what everyone else falsely tells them about me. Not many people take the time to get to know me for who I am. 

That’s life. 

Friend Friday: Crystal


Check out my guest blog.

Originally posted on Pizza of Doom:

It’s Friday-ay-ay. And a bank holiday here in the UK. Nice. 

Even nicer, today is my first go at Friend Friday, when I’m handing over my blog to one of my greatest and most gorgeous blogger buddies to guest post. This is my way of saying “Thank you” to my new friends for their support over the past year, and also my way of celebrating the communities and friendships that can be formed right here on WordPress. 

Today’s post is from Crystal at All the Things that I Don’t Wish. Crystal was one of the first people I connected with on here, probably because of a heartbreak timing coincidence (I started my blog on the day her ex told her he was leaving). I feel like we’ve been through war together. And I love her no-nonsense attitude that means she went to bed the other night “mad as…

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