Things HAVE Changed. I Have Changed.

It’s amazing what can happen when you let go.  And I have truly let go.  I am so far gone from that stoop that I teetered on a year ago.  On occasion, I do get frustrated, but not like I used to.  My anger level has waned since I prepare for the worst of dealing with my STBX.

My son is now used to not hearing from his father.  He swoops in for a bit then swoops back out.  My STBX was doing well there for a moment.  He’s gotten a new job, he paid one installment of child support and he was sober and calling our son for a month.  Now, he has disappeared again.

He disappeared after he left me a voicemail message.  At first I thought it was a cryptic, drunken message where he forgotten who he was or maybe he was sleeping while leaving me a message and woke up thinking it was just a dream.  It started like this:

“Hey, Kristi.


Uh huh.

Um, yeah, where’s M.

Uh huh.

Yeah, let me call you back…”

It went on for an entire minute.  I don’t understand why someone would leave a fake message for an entire minute. He could have hung up after the first “Let me call you back” but he didn’t.  It went on to say something less than audible…like “Yeah, I put 40 in.”  Ha!  I think that is what it said, but he hasn’t put money in my account for at least two weeks. He had told me he would put money in for M’s doctor bills, but nothing.  He told me he would put money in for his order of M’s school pictures, but nothing.  I really didn’t expect him to.  I figured it was worth a try though.  I keep him informed and my job is done.  I have let go of the anger that came with expecting him to follow through on his monetary promises.  I know it’s not going to happen.

As for the reason for the long, fake message, I am sure it was for the benefit of his girlfriend with whom I am sure he is back with if he is leaving this long of a lying message.  Poor, stupid girl.

He probably called her right after he called me two weekends ago.  We were getting ready for bed; it had been a late night.  The phone rang at a little after 10pm.  Of course it was him and I have no idea why I answered.  M told me he didn’t want to talk to him so it was left to me.  I informed him we were getting ready for bed and it is late.  He wearily told me he loved me.  I told him I had to go.  He told me again and begged for me to say that I loved him.  I could not.  I hung up on him instead.  I don’t love him.  That love has long since been destroyed by our respective demons.  His are still not conquered.  I have mine under control, mostly.  I have my moments…but I grow every day and I am proud of who I am becoming.

I am a great mom and focus 100% on my child.  I give him what he needs and on occasion, give him what he wants without spoiling him.  He earns his “treats”.  He gets all of my love and attention.

So, how have these changes affected me?  My acne has all but subsided.  I cannot believe the change in my skin since I have stopped letting him get under my skin.  The subsiding stress has relieved many things in my life, but this was the most irritating to me.  i still break out a little around that time of the month, but it’s nothing now.  Just a couple of blemishes instead of about twenty.  I get a lot more sleep.  I have a lot more fun.  I enjoy my boy so much more.  I don’t get sad anymore because his father doesn’t pay attention to him.  I don’t get sad anymore because my son doesn’t really seem to care.  He is used to, I guess.  It is the norm and my son has adjusted and adapted, so I adapted right along with him.  He is really an amazing kid.  AMAZING!

So, this is it.  The only thing I have left to decide…do I stay here in Georgia where I might be able to purchase a house or move back to California, where I know I will never be able to purchase a house or even a condo for that matter.  My time limit to think on this is next summer.  I am just not sure.  A big part of me wants to lay down some roots and buy a home and live there for the rest of my life and give my kiddo more stability than he has ever known.  Yet, another part of me misses having friends.  I am not sure how much of my life I should give up for my child.  How much happiness should I deprive myself of?  Will this fix itself in time?  I guess only time will tell.  Changes are coming whether I try or not. And maybe friends will come too.  New friends.

I don’t know.  This is so hard.

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In Heat and Nowhere to Go

The most difficult part of dating as a single parent is not dating at all.  I have zero social life, as my son is with me all the time and I have zero friends in which to socialize with.  I do not think it would be much fun if I went to a bar by myself or even with a book to pretend I have something to do at said bar.

How do I meet guys?  The internet?  Sheesh.  I did try that.  I did sign up for and I really did not find it an honest forum where people could meet.  Nor did I find anyone that I was honestly attracted to.  Do not get me wrong, there were attractive people that were interested in me and I in them, physically, but nothing more than that.

While I am in heat right now, I flip flop between wanting something physical and wanting something emotional and long-lasting.  Because of my twisted female brain and hormones, I do not want both at the same time.  I just keep flip flopping.  So, instead of going online, even craigslist, to search out a victim of my feeling randy, I normally contact people I have had contact with in the past.  Anyone that I think might respond and I usually get my plaything for the next few days.  The only problem with this method is…well…all of them live outside of the state I live in.  So, I don’t actually get laid.  I get p-laid or e-laid, but no skin on skin.  Man, I do wish I had some though…you know…skin on skin.  That would be loverly.

I guess getting e-laid will do for now.  I ain’t got no time to actually get laid or meet some fool that I do not have time for.  It would be nice, but maybe this is my life’s way of saying “Don’t fuck me up now, it’s just getting nice.”



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Soccer Mom Woes

I am certainly not mom of the year and I certainly do not feel like it lately.  I know I have let my son down and I refuse to let myself continue on this destructive path.

His pouty behavior during a couple of soccer games has angered me and I punished him for the behavior after the games.  I do not know why I got so angry about it.  He gets so frustrated with himself because he is not winning or the kids take the ball away from him and it doesn’t give him the chance to win.  I have never told him he has to win, I only want him to try his hardest and I want him to have fun.  But also, no where in there did I say, stand in the middle of the field and pout.

I have encouraged him throughout each game, told him how awesome he was doing, even if he didn’t touch the ball.  He was obviously having fun.  He has done well most of the time, even if he is just running in circles…at least he is trying.  This weekend was my biggest fail as a mom.  I knew he was having a hard time and I just could not figure it out.

When the game ended, he got a treat and a fruit punch.  He was so excited by the package of Oreos he got and came to me and said “Mom, look.”  I quickly snatched the treat away and put them in his bag.  I told myself at the moment it was the right thing to do because he didn’t earn it.

I did not punish him further and I wasn’t really mad at him.  I felt sorry for him.  I decided to do some research on why he is like this.  Why he has this self-defeating attitude when it comes to pretty much anything.  I am not like that.  I am competitive and I feel like I can do just about anything.  If I can’t, at least I try.  I came across a great article in Nashville Parent called “Yes I Can! Coaching Your Child to Counter Self-Defeating Thinking.”  What a great article.  I learned a lot about my child and what I have been doing wrong.  It is a lot to take in.  I examined every bit of what I say to my son and how I handle his

I woke up in a cold sweat at 4:00am last night, horrified at what I had done.  The little bit of joy my son got out of the game on Saturday, I snatched it away.  Those Oreos were the only thing that made him happy and I just meanly snatched it from him, along with his joy.  This is a moment in time I wish I could take back.

My boy.  I am so sorry I have been a bad example for you.  I cannot believe I have done this to you.  As the article points out, my boy has learned this self-defeating behavior from me.  Not only in the way I speak about little mishaps that he get’s upset about, but all of the moments that I have been impatient with him.  Last night, I took a shot at changing the way I address his frustration and way of thinking and I had two such occasions.

First, he was trying to stack some small parking cones we have so he could bowl in the living room.  They were not staying stacked and he was unable to knock them down with his soccer ball.  The end result, he was frustrated and throwing the cones.  I stopped him gently and told him to come sit in my lap.  I explained to him that the cones are really built for stacking and they are difficult to knock down.  How about we figure out a solution together instead of getting frustrated?  If you ever get frustrated and you cannot think of a solution on your own, come and ask me and we will figure it out together.  I think we have some plastic cups in the pantry that would work so much better.  They stack and they are good for knocking down.

Later that night, getting ready for bed, my boy was his usual rambunctious self and refused to settle.  He kept putting his butt in my face which I find amusing the first few times, but then told him to calm down so we could read his book.  Well, he didn’t and he ended up falling on me and elbowing me in the ribs.  “OUCH!”  I did not get angry, but told him to be more careful.  This threw him into a fit.  He get’s so angry when he accidentally hurts me.  It usually comes after I have told him to calm down numerous times.  Sometimes I get frustrated with him when he ends up knocking a glass of water over or hurting me because he cannot seem to calm down at night.  Sometimes, I lose my cool over it…but most of the time I do not.  Those times I do lose it, well, it damages him.  He becomes upset with himself and with me for getting angry.

But not last night.  I did not lose it, but instead pulled him close and spoke to him about what happened.  I walked him through the chain of events and asked him what had happened.  I asked him if mommy was angry.  I asked him about a solution instead of getting frustrated.  We came up with a solution together.

Since before I can remember, I get very amused when someone get’s hurt (but not gravely hurt), just tripping or clumsy mishaps.  It strikes my funny bone.  So, I told him to laugh at me when I get hurt.  I am not sure if this is the right way to go, but we agreed and we moved on and he didn’t stay mad.  It is usually pretty difficult to get him out of these funks of frustration he gets in.

But at 4:00am, I could not help but think that I have been a bad example to my son.  I am not the nicest person in the world.  I try to be kind when driving or in the grocery store or wherever I might go.  But I do not go out of my way to be kind.  I do not help whether asked or needed.  Sometimes I do, but I do not put myself out.  I am selfish.  I am also very self-deprecating.  I always tell my son that something is my fault if I see him beating himself up about something.  But now, I am going to be solution oriented.

I am going to take my son out and practice soccer more during the week to build his confidence in his skills.  I am going to engage him in figuring out solutions to hypothetical problems that occur when he’s playing a game.  I am going to stop taking control of situations when he is doing something.

I am going to figure this whole mother thing out little by little.  I want to raise a confident boy.  And up until now, I thought he was confident.  He is so very social and makes lots of friends.  But he is confident in himself when it comes to kids liking him.  He is not confident in his skills.

This article provides me lots of tools to use with my boy.  Also some tools to use on myself in making sure I do not speak negatively to myself, others, and most importantly, HIM!

I got this.  I can change the outcome.  I do it for this face!

Can you believe anyone could get frustrated with this face?

Can you believe anyone could get frustrated with this face? Peace, Love, Soccer!

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Ball-less Need Not Apply

Last Thursday night, I found myself communicating via Facebook with a man that I had gone to school with but never really knew.  He did not know me either.  We had sent small, inconsequential messages back and forth a couple of times, but nothing serious or deep.

Did I mention this guy is HOT!  I mean, HOT.  Not only that, he is really funny and loves his kids (he is divorced).  I will not tell a lie, I had a Facebook crush on him.  I kept thinking how he was the perfect guy and he’s the kind I need in my life.  If I fall in love again, I want it to be with someone like him.

So, during our little chat session he comes right out and says, “I have really strong feelings for you, I hope you know that.”

Yikes.  Wait, What?  Before I had a chance to respond, he sent another message, “Hell, I might even be in love with you even though we can never be together.”


So, here is this awesome guy that I have had a Facebook crush on telling me all this.  Mind you, some bells went off in my head, but really, I enjoyed the conversation and admitted to him that I liked him a lot as well.  He told me that he wanted to come visit me and I told him that we should talk on the phone first, at least.  So we ended the conversation by exchanging phone numbers and promises of calls after the weekend.

The weekend came and went.  We messaged a little bit on Sunday night and again on Monday.  But Monday is when it got awkward.  I asked him when he was going to call me.  No response.  My messenger told me had seen it shortly after I sent it.

Two hours later, still no response.

Finally, his response came after three hours.  “I don’t know if I want to.  I mean, it’s not like we will ever be able to get together and my kids are here in Iowa living with their mother.”

I'm Crushed!

I’m Crushed!

Ugh!  Seriously.  I guess this guy is not who I thought he was and realized quickly that he was born without balls.  How do ball-less men leave the womb?  Why do men think with their head and not their heart?  Anyways, I just told him that I was sorry he felt that way and left it.  Yeah, I left it for about an hour until my emotions got the best of me.  I then sent him a lengthy explanation as to how I follow my heart and take chances, even if those chances are risky and may possibly end up hurting me…blah, blah, blah.  And I say “blah” because this is obviously what he heard in his head while reading my response.

His response was “Ahhhhh.”

What the FUCK!?

So, although I do not understand why this man would pour his guts out to me then ignore me and toss away something that may have been quite fantastic….I am not going to give up on being a dreamer or finding love.  I will, however, give up on him.  I am too old to mess around with ball-less men and I do not like relationships that begin as roller coasters, which I lovingly call puke rides.

Oddly, the very next morning at 7:23am, he sends me two pictures of himself.  Nice pictures.  Beautiful pictures.

Yeah, I do not get it either.  My response was… “If you are trying to keep me interested…it’s working.”  A few moment’s later, I asked why he wanted to keep me interested if there is no chance that we will ever speak on the telephone or meet in person.  No response.

I was hoping for one, but the lack of response gave me my answer.  He merely wanted me to admire him and let him know how gorgeous he was in order to boost his self esteem.  He wanted me to make him feel good…while giving nothing in return.  I do not work that way.

But anyhow, I have learned a lesson, I want a man with balls.  I mean, real meaty, stick to your bones, balls.  So, ball-less need not apply.  Turn around and leave me be because I am too fabulous!



If he did change his mind and wanted to continue with a relationship given the distance…I would totally dive in.  I’m pissed, but not dead.

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Since You Been Gone…

Yes, I am stealing this awesome song title from Kelly Clarkson and turning it into a blog title.  Who cares?  It fits today.

Lately the STBX has been calling, not only his son, but he wants to speak with me.  He wants me back.  He wants his family back.  He wants to get out of the toxic place he is in.  He has left his girlfriend and is now living with his parents.

For a little over a month, we have not heard from him.  No calls, no messages, nothing.  I have to say, it’s been nice (for me).  Not dealing with him and his drama is FANTASTIC.  It’s been peaceful.  Although I have hated that my son may have been hurt in all of this, he seems to roll with the punches very well.  He loves his daddy, but his absence no longer seems to be noticed.

During the dramatic past almost three years, my emotions have been up and down, mimicking the best bipolars I know.  The roller coaster was constant, up until almost a year ago.  I finally shut down and put any kind of hope for reconciliation behind me and let go.  I realized that I really do not want the drama in my life.  The STBX is ALL drama, ALL the time.  Mind you, I know deep down inside his mess of a mind, he is a good person.  He just does not know how to live, really live.  He skips over the hard stuff to something easier and does not deal with difficulties he encounters.  He skips solution-finding to go straight out the door to escapism.  Escaping gets you nowhere, fast.  And now, he is nowhere.  He lives in a toxic city and he is surrounded by toxic, enabling individuals.  Fighting the battles and facing fears and difficulties is what makes life worth living.  It makes you a better person.  He does not see it this way.

The Peyote Cactus

He says he is attending intense counseling right now.  He has gone through a “detox program”,which basically consists of him living in a room with about ten other people consuming peyote like it’s going out of style.  Peyote is supposed to have detoxification properties, but I am not so sure.  This stuff has side effects that range from vomiting to hallucinations to anxiety to irrational thinking.  Like the STBX needs more of that in his life.  He already has depression and an anxiety disorder.  But whatever, again, the enabling people in his life right now encourage him to do this.

Now that he is attending counseling and has been “sober” for a bit, he says he is thinking clearly.  He wants us back.  There has been no shortage of asking, begging.  But all I can think of is that life is so much more peaceful.  Life without his drama has been freaking fantastic.

I love not being in a relationship.  I love that I only have to worry about my son and myself.  It’s enough, my life is full.  Since he’s been gone, I have found a new life of tranquil moments with a side of chaos as a single working mother.  This kind of chaos makes me happy.  The other kind of chaos…the kind that the STBX brings to our lives, I do not like and I will never let back in my life.

Thank you for reading.  I’m glad you are here with me.

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The “Just Before”

Just before I asked J for a divorce, I took a lot of time to think about it.  I had for months before we moved to Georgia.  After we moved, I knew I was not going to be able to bear it much longer.  I was unhappy.

In the two months leading up to the evening I asked J for a divorce, I had talked to my friends and family and sought guidance from wherever and whoever I could.  Those closest to me knew I was very unhappy.  I just was not sure what to do though.

A huge part of that reason is that I worried about J.  I worried that he would run back to San Francisco and start up the drugs again and drink even heavier.  I knew this would happen.  The days leading up to him getting on that plane to San Francisco, I told my mom just that.  I knew what would happen.  I know that if he does not get help, he will die.  Even though there are times that I am very angry with him, I do not want him to die.  Not like this.  I keep telling him that his son needs a father, but it does not get through.

I need to face the fact that nothing I can say or do will stop his downward spiral.  He tells me he is sober.  I think it is just for now, until the next time he falls.  I know he will fall, I lived it over and over.  I wish him to be sober, but know he will never reach that point if he is not happy with himself.  He knows he helped to destroy his happy family.  He knows that his addiction has led him to this path he is on now.

There is still a part of me that wants to help him and take care of him.  I feel like I am the only one that can help him in that way.  I did it once and I could do it again.  I never let him get away with anything. But with our son in the mix, I do not feel I can help him and take care of my child.  I cannot have my son around the negativity that comes from getting sober and the turmoil it causes.  And what if there is another relapse?  I do not want my son exposed to that either.

Towards the end and just before we ended it, he lied about everything, even minute things that did not matter in the whole scheme of things.  That is when I stopped caring and wanting to help.  I stopped loving him.  Our love was destroyed by addiction.  I can only imagine the same would happen with my son.  He would not understand what was happening.  And I would not know how or what to tell him.

How I wish it was

How I wish it was

For now, I have told him that his daddy has a disease.  He is so sick, that it makes him forget to call.  I keep telling him that he will call when he is feeling better, but I do not know when.  So far, that one time last week is all he has called.  The calls have stopped.  He did not deposit child support as he said he would.  He did not send the divorce papers as he said he would.

I feel I am at an impasse.  I am not quite sure how to move forward.  If he really wanted help, he would hop on a one-way plane and get out here.  If he really wanted to be with his son, he would fight tooth and nail to be with him.

So, here helpI sit.  Watching in my head, replaying what I prophesied just before he left.  I knew this would happen and I can only hope it does not kill him.

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My, How Things Don’t Change

No matter what, I will keep a positive, optimistic attitude.  I have hard days or weeks, but whatever.  I am not going to let shit beat me down.  It’s just shit, nonetheless.  It will get flushed out eventually.  I am normally this way anyway.  I like singing strange songs that involve the everyday things I do…like making dinner or giving my son a bath.  I sing while I do.  It keeps me upbeat, plus my son loves it.

Even when my STBX calls begging for us to get back together, I stay positive.  This stuff does not phase me like it did in the past.  He said that he wanted to be a father, a real father in his phone call to me at 6:00am yesterday…3:00am his time.  I told him that he should want that and work really hard towards being that.  I was not angry, I just felt sorry for him.  Trust me, I do get angry with him at times.  Very angry.  But that anger usually subsides quickly.

I know he has a disease.  This disease has ravaged his mind.  He does not know up from down, right from wrong or inside from out.  He does not get that his number one priority is his son.  Instead, his number one priority is himself and when or how he can get his next fix.

His addictions are many.  His first addiction I discovered is cocaine, his second is alcohol and his third is attention.  He is a slave to it all.  Since the beginning of his life was quite tumultuous with his parents abandoning him and the sexual abuse by his uncle and cousin, he has so needed attention.  What he does not know is that he attracts the bad kind of attention.  But it is the fear, shame, guilt of all he went through that got him to this point.  He does not know how to go about life on his own.  And I, unfortunately, cannot go on in life with him.

I am always confronted with commercials or movies or TV shows that really challenge my belief that I did the right thing by leaving him and seeking a divorce.  Although it used to his me harder, now it is just a lingering wonderment.  If I did not have a child to protect, I would still be in it and fighting alongside him, but alas, I have an awesome child that does not need to be exposed to those battles.

Sadly, his addiction is so deeply rooted that it may take years for him to recover fully.  He may end up losing his son forever or, which I wholeheartedly hope for, have a beautiful loving relationship with his son.  Either way, my son will be changed forever because of addiction.  After J had not called for a month and a half, he finally did.  It was a brief call.

Deeply Rooted...and that soil is more like quicksand. Credit

Deeply Rooted…and that soil is more like quicksand. Credit

My son was talking loudly because J said he could not hear him.  That is basically how the entire call went.  J would say something.  M would keep repeating the same thing over and over until he received a response from his dad.  It never happened.  Finally, M asked his dad, “Do you have a disease?”  And J did not hear him.

I recently explained to my boy that his daddy has a disease and that is the reason he has not called in so long.  Daddy is trying to get better.  But sometimes his disease makes him forget to call you.  I asked him if he was sad about his dad not calling and he said plainly, “No.”

So, things have not changed much.  About once a month (except August), J has asked to have his family back.  I tell him it is too late for that.  I welcome him to have a relationship with his son.  I have offered him a place to stay until he can get a job and place to live.  He gets silent, then the phone clicks.  He is gone.


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Breaking the Cycle: Part II

A lot seems to be going around about addiction and what effects it has on those that are the addicts, as well as those around the addicts.  I care for two addicts.  My father and my soon to be ex-husband.

Part Two: Marrying an Alcoholic

And then there is this.  I married an addict and alcoholic.  First, my husband was seriously addicted to drugs and even was the dealer to many of our friends.  I did not know this when we began dating.  I had no clue.  I did not find out until he overdosed on Meth.  He vowed he would clean up.  And, he did.  For a little while.

Eventually, we moved in together.  I did not know it at the time, but I was pregnant.  After living together for a few weeks, I took a test and confirmed that I was indeed pregnant.  I was really depressed.  I did not have a job and I had also realized that J’s drug use had not stopped.  It seemed to have increased.  He had two jobs at that time, both working in bars.  One bar was as seedy as they come.  He was dealing to his friends and other patrons in that bar.  He would also partake in his wares.  There were many times that he would not get home until early morning.  There were also times he did not come home at all.

When my pregnancy was confirmed, I tried to get excited.  I could not.  All I could think about is how I was lonely.  I had no job, no support, nothing.  J was still doing drugs and drinking.  How could we raise a child in this environment under these circumstances?  If I left him, how could I raise a child on my own without a job?  I felt utterly screwed.

J, on the other hand, was excited.  He vowed to give up the drugs and get straight.  That never happened.  I talked to my mom, my best friends and my sister about what I was feeling.  The opinions were split and I had a decision to make.  I knew whatever I chose would break us up.  I was ready though.  I called my mom and told her my final decision.  Then I called Planned Parenthood and made my appointment.  I did not tell J until the day before I left to Orange County.  I knew it would hurt him.  But at that point, I did not care anymore.

One night, I woke up around 1:00am and was very sick.  I could not stop vomiting and had diarrhea.  I was incredibly dehydrated and no water in the house except tap.  I dared not drink San Francisco tap water.  I was afraid of it.  I tried calling J.  No answer.  I left a message.  At 3:00am, still no J.  I called again and now his phone was going straight to voicemail.  I left another message.  I was in so much pain.  I did not know what to do.  The only reason I got out of bed was to go to the bathroom.  I could barely walk that far, but I made it.  There was no way I could make it to the corner store.  It was less than a block, but I was in that much pain.

Finally, around 7:00am I was beginning to feel a little better.  I got out of bed and made my way to the corner store and grabbed some Gatorade and water.  I decided to walk around to see if J was laying on the street somewhere, passed out or gawd knows what.  I just could not imagine that he wouldn’t come home knowing I was sick and pregnant with his baby.

After wandering the streets of San Francisco for a half hour, I went home and called his mother.  She did not know where he was either but told me she would look for him.  An hour later, I finally got a call from him.  He had showed up at their apartment.  Not ours, theirs.  It was then I knew what I had to do and I was, and still am, convinced I made the right decision.

After I returned home from Southern California, we ended our relationship.  A friend had returned with me and she helped me pack the truck and drive back to SoCal.  I left him.  He was shocked, angry, bargaining with every ounce of his being.  I left and never looked back.

After moving, I got a job, an apartment and settled in and then the calls began.  He missed me.  He needed me.  I fell for it.  I told him he could come live with me if he stopped the drugs.  And he did.  We went through months of sweats and depression and he finally landed a job with a friend of ours.  It was right across the street.  He straightened up very well.

With the absence of the drugs, J’s alcohol consumption increased.  He promised to get help before we married, but that never happened.  I married him anyway.  He would get better for a few months and then go back to the way things were. There were so many fights.  So much yelling.  So much cursing at each other.  So much lying.

After a year of marriage, we had gotten pregnant twice, but sadly I lost both.  It was heartbreaking.  It was even more heartbreaking when J blamed me for the losses.  This was the beginning of the end for us.  Every time he got drunk, I was the bitch baby killer.  With every drink, the anger grew in him.

When I learned I was pregnant again I knew he was a keeper.  I knew this one was going to stick and he did!  In the beginning of my pregnancy, my husband was so attentive and caring.  Once the decision was made to move back to NoCal to be closer to his family and get more support, things started downhill again.  J got his old job back at one of the nicer bars in San Francisco.  And that my friends, was a mistake…but he needed the job and we needed the income.  As time went on, J began to come home very late and…drunk.  My tolerance for his drinking and behavior was very low and getting lower.  My raging hormones did not help anything.  I could not think of bringing my son into this world with a father that was a drunk.  As the birth day grew closer, his drinking got worse and my tolerance got lower.  He began ignoring my calls, going out with his friends, getting home early in the mornings….and this continued even after our boy was born.

I didn’t want my kid to experience what I had experienced.  I felt rejected then, and I feel rejected now.  I did not know how to get through to my husband to get him to stop.  I tried everything.  I even video recorded his behavior.  He always went right back to the drinking and probably drugs too.  I knew I had to do something.  I had to change my behavior.  I knew I could not control him or the outcome of his disease.

After giving birth, I had some serious postpartum depression.  I sought counseling and one thing I wanted to address is: “Why did I marry someone just like my father?”

The answer my friends: to change the outcome.  Well, the only way I could change the outcome is to escape the relationship and that is what I did.

I broke the cycle.  I left.  I only hope that J’s effect on my boy is minimal.

I moved to Georgia and J stayed in San Francisco.  He did come to Georgia for a while but we could not make it work.  I was too unhappy.  So, he went back.  I begged him not to leave his son and try to make a go of it here.  He said he could not without support.

I later figured that he could not make it without easy access to alcohol and later drugs.  He left us almost three years ago.  Since leaving, he has not been able to hold down a job.  He has “tried to kill himself” three times and overdosed at least once.  He now lives with his girlfriend and still wants us to be a family.  It has been over a month since he called his son.  And we are going into the third month of no child support because he has lost yet another job.

I also try to break the cycle by not behaving in a codependent fashion.  I cannot control my son or what and how he feels.  I let him be who he is and accept his 4-year-old decisions, whether I like them or not.  But at this age, his decisions are pretty easy to accept.  It’s good to start small, like him not eating vegetables or picking out an outfit that doesn’t match.  It’s good to take it slow so maybe I won’t be so controlling of him in the future.

It’s good to break the cycle.

Back to Part I

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Unbroken Heart

As I spoke in my last post, What Can I Say?, I have been sad about things that I cannot do for my son and things that have been promised to my son by his father and there has been no follow through.  Watching my son’s disappointment is heartbreaking.

This morning, I was message with my brother on Facebook.  He is currently working as a contractor in Afghanistan.  Boo, that is too far away.  About every six months or so, he gets to come home for a couple of weeks.  But anyway, I told him about the Buzz Lightyear that my STBX said he had and was going to send over a month ago.  I told him how it broke my heart every time my boy check the mail and there was no package from his dad.  While we were messaging, he purchased the toy for my boy and is having it shipped to him.  My boy will have that toy next week.  I could not and cannot stop crying.  I have been wanting to cry all week, but those were tears of sadness and these…well, these are tears of shear joy and my heart mending on behalf of my child.

After I finished talking with my brother, I called my mom to let her know what an awesome son she raised.  I couldn’t stop crying.  There were bucket’s of tears of that joy I mentioned earlier.  I had told her about wanting to cry all week and about why….not only the toy, but not being able to afford the fall soccer season for him either.

I had been begging my STBX for money to enroll my boy in soccer for this season.  All of my requests have been received, but ignored.  I have emailed, texted and called him.  I have received no response, nothing, nada.  Registration ended this past Tuesday and I lost hope.  There was another reason to be sad and another reason I wanted to just cry.  I feel like a failure in not being able to provide any of those extras for my kiddo.  I guess I could feel good that I can at least feed, clothe and shelter him…I should be happy, right?

But, on with the story.

After telling my mom about soccer and how we had missed the cutoff and my numerous requests to my boy’s father were ignored, well, she offered the money to get him registered.  He already has the gear and uniform from last season that will be used; I just needed the registration fee.  I told her that there was no hope because registration had been closed since Tuesday.  She verbally forced me to contact the soccer club…so I did.  I email the guy:

I hate to bother you and I know registration has been closed, but I need to ask.  My son so wants to play soccer again and I have been waiting for a child support payment for a couple of months, but have not been able to get that.  I do not want to be a sob story and I am not looking for anyone to feel sorry for me… 


I was just offered some money so I could get my son registered for soccer and I would so love it if I could get him in and sign him up, as he really loves it.  He already has the gear from last season, the shirt and shoes and ball and everything…I just couldn’t come up with the money to get him registered on time.


So, I implore you, on behalf of my son, can you please accept his late registration?  I would be eternally grateful and you would make me the happiest mom in the world.


Please let me know when you have a chance. 


Thank you for your understanding and consideration.


Best wishes”

His Response:

I have forwarded your email to our registration folks and they will reach out to you and get you signed up.
Enjoy the day!!”
Damn, there I go crying again.  I cannot seem to stop the tears of joy flowing from my eyes.  Like I said, I have been wanting to cry all week but have been avoiding it at all times.  I mean, when the hell do I have time to cry when I am sad?  Yeah, I don’t.  I would prefer explaining tears of joy versus tears of sadness.
So I let the tears flow.  If they are filled with joy…and they represent my unbroken heart.


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