I’m A Sucker For Pain, It Ain’t Nothing But Pain You Just Fuckin’ Complain, You Ain’t Tough As You Claim

Alexander and the terrible, horrible, no good, very bad day.

Just insert my name instead of Alex’s up there, and switch day for… I dunno, year? And I feel it’d be right on point with my life instead of a cute little children’s book.

I’ve just felt like giving up lately, for no reason in particular. I mean I could think of a few, but I really don’t want to, because then… Oh great, now I’m tearing up. That’s exactly what I’ve been trying to avoid.

I don’t know if this whole blogging thing is for me anymore. Every time I come to write I find myself digging deeper and deeper and honestly you guys I have very little left.

Not in the way of stories or life, shit I have tons of crazy shit that y’all still have’t heard about. But I’m talking emotionally. Mentally. I think I’m spent. I think I’ve given all that I want to give. Bared all of my soul that I can.

I come here and I just lay it out. I hold nothing back, if I’m thinking something, and I feel I can’t discuss it elsewhere (which is basically everything) I write it here. But in the past sharing my thoughts so openly and freely in any capacity was unheard of for me. It’s not how I operated. So now, I’m feeling so different, having an outlet, that it’s become unnerving.

I’m literally having to stop typing every few seconds because I’m bawling at my desk right now. And I’m not sure why. Maybe it’s because, like Pavlov’s dog, I’ve trained my body to realized that coming to write is a time of release. Or maybe, something that’s more true, I’ve realized the disappointment I now feel in myself.

I’ve been through a lot with you, my readers.

I’ve let you into the schmozle of my ongoing divorce (yes, still ongoing, probably forever ongoing at E’s rate). I’ve told you about my abusive past relationship. You’ve heard about my plight as a single parent. You’ve gained insight on how I choose to raise my kids.  You know about my struggle with my undiagnosed/rare form of epilepsy. You read as I lost 40+ pounds and got a personal trainer (I think that post got deleted, but it happened). You followed my adventures across the globe and back, with a paranoid schizophrenic husband. I invited you into my many one night stands because I have major trust issues. You’ve followed along as I let one particular one night stand continue… into a non-relationship/relationship of almost a year and a half that’s going nowhere, yet we love each other… Oh but not that way (yeah I’m just as confused). You know my triumphs within my job and career.  We’ve had racial discussions, and you know my family issues. You know about when I was raped and my hatred for mice.

Yet despite these examples of things that I’ve shared, of things I’ve overcome… I feel like this past year has been a waste.

I’m 30 years old now. I’m not even officially a ‘single’ mother of two, since E still hasn’t done shit all with the divorce (his newest excuse is that he owes his lawyer too much money and so he can’t go see him until he has the cash… FUCK why do you think you owe him so much genius? ‘Cause you book so many hours with him!!! JUST SIGN THE DAMN PAPERS AND BE DONE!!!) Anyways, I’m still driving my shitty car I hate. Still not dating anyone. Still have nothing on the horizons other than being a mom. Which is with me for life.

And basically, I’m pissed at myself.

That I’ve let so much time slip through my fingers with nothing and no one to show for it.

I’m pretty sure I said in like my first damn post, all I ever wanted was a simple house, in a decent neighborhood, where my kids can go to school and get the best education possible. With a man who loves me and chooses me.

But I guess that’s still not for me.

So I guess I’ll still keep on bitching on here.

I really can’t remember what I started this post to say, but I can no longer see the screen through the tears of my pity party, so I guess that means I’m done.

Oh great, to top off an even worse day with a proverbial cherry, my Grandpa is calling…  and we all know how much I hate him.

-Lil Wayne, Wiz Khalifa & Imagine Dragons w/ Logic & Ty Dolla $ign ft X Ambassadors/Sucker for Pain-


And So This Is Christmas And What Have We Done Another Year Over, A New One Just Begun

Christmas has come and gone.

And it was good. Great? Naw. Good. For sure.

No great ‘sweep me off my feet’ miracle. No knight in shining armor riding a horse to carry me off into the (freezing cold) sunset. But those aren’t my dreams anyways. So, yeah, it was good.

Mostly fun times with enough family that you could avoid talking to the ones you didn’t want to chat with, but enough people around that it kept it interesting to say the least.  Happy kids chattering away about what they hope to see wrapped under the tree. turned into ripped paper strewn everywhere. Old men napping in front of the TV blaring too loudly. Leftovers for days (mainly because my mom choose to cook a Keto dinner… trying to push her latest diet trend on us all). Too many baked goods to name compliments of my nieces which my sister made sure to inform me of, the fact that all her girls know how to bake, which is a huge deal that sets them miles above my kids apparently. Games that make everyone look ridiculous and almost made me pee my (new size smaller, super comfy) pants. Think Charades and that game where you put the plastic mouth piece in so you can’t speak properly because your mouth is the size of a small country. A morning with one gift under the tree for myself from Little E that he painted at school, and the rest from a fake “Santa” addressed to the kids.  Then add on top of that cranky kids because they are staying up way later than normal, and consuming more sugar in one day than they have all year… and you have Christmas.

K did come with us to my mom’s Christmas Eve dinner, so that was special. He had promised, and although he was so nervous about it, he pulled through and I’m really happy about that. My mom was so adorable, she had bought him  sweater which was far too small and way to tacky for him, but it was the thought that counts. He met my sister R and her husband J, spent some time with N and D, whom he’d met before when they came over for poker night, and just hung out.

And that was it. Taa-Daa.

Can’t wait for next year. Where we do it all again, but somehow we are all older and wiser.

-Celine Dion/Happy Xmas-

Him An’ His Christmas Spirit Are Really A Lotta Bunk I’ll Have To Bust My Ass For Another Year Just To Pay For All This Junk

So, the other night I was wrapping Christmas presents for my kids after they went to sleep, and it came time to label them, and I started getting pissed off.

Pissed off because I worked hard for the money used to buy those gifts. I spent my days off going shopping for those presents. I kept lists throughout the year of what my kids needed/would like, so that I would know what the perfect gifts would be. But now, as I go to label them, and have to sign the “from” part… I have to write Santa on most of them.

So some imaginary fat dude in a red suit gets all the credit for my hard work? Yeah, that pisses me off.

Now don’t get me wrong, I’m all for the idea of ‘the holidays.’ Of people gathering together, exchanging gifts as a token of love for one other. Spending time with family and friends you haven’t seen in too long. Indulging in far to much alcohol and baked goods etc. Enjoying the sparkling lights against the dark winter sky. All that stuff, I’m for. But the Santa shit? Why? Why can’t we get into the spirit of joy and festivity without lying to our children? Why can’t we just spend time together and have time off work to celebrate life and each other, without all the fake… everything? Why can’t we just have this time of year for looking back, reflecting, and enjoying life. Sure I’m okay with gift giving, although not to the extreme extent that most people take it, but a small exchange to show you appreciate someone? I think that’s more than reasonable. A big meal surrounded by people you love? Totally do-able. But to infiltrate our kids minds with lies, when they look to us to be a guide, a source of truth? That’s just inhumane.

Like, way to set your kids up to never believe you again. To them, you’ll become the boy who cried wolf. They’ll start questioning everything you’ve ever taught them, and rightfully so.

Santa? Not true.

The Easter Bunny? Lie.

The Tooth Fairy? Jokes on you, and on it goes.

So I don’t see why we can’t just be honest to our kids. Ya know… there’s this thing we could try where we treat them like actual humans for once? With though processes that start now and will form the adults they will become. The ones that will inherit this world. They’ll believe what we tell them, so why can’t we tell them the truth?

Why do we feel so pressured to continue a ridiculous lie that I’m willing to bet 95% of you don’t even know where it started from…

I’ll tell you why. Because when one of us attempts to tell our kids the truth (yep, me telling Little E Santa’s a farce) every year, each year they get caught up in all the hype of the other kids at school or day care etc, so it’s like trying to hold back a massive tidal wave with your bare hands. Impossible. They understand when you first tell them, and then the confusion sets in when they are literally bombarded from every direction starting in November of some overweight senior dressed in red with a white beard.

So, all I’m asking is, for the sake of every other single mom/dad out there, who not only worked hard for the gifts she bought her kids, but more importantly because I want my kids to be raised in the truth, that you thoughtfully consider how you approach the holidays in the future.

Do you want your kids to think its all about the red suit? Or maybe, just maybe, have them value something more.

I know what I’m working towards. But I also know I can’t do it alone.

P.S. Check out the new post on www.thebirthoflove.ca

-Rudolph & The Gang/Here Comes Fatty Clause-

Such A Lonely Day And It’s Mine The Most Loneliest Day Of My Life

So, my lawyer is now also not responding to my emails, which means we will be closing in on 4 years this February as far as how long this divorce is taking. I was only married for 4.5 years before I filed for divorced so this has officially become so ridiculous that I feel I have little left to say on the matter.  Other than maybe it would be better off to be rich. To be able to afford a lawyer who gives a shit about my case. Who actually invests time and energy in getting things done for me because I’d be someone more valuable to them.

Seems the theme of my week. People only wanting me for what they can get out of me. I feel so empty, like I’m constantly doing things for other people and have very little, if no return on my out pouring of love.

It’s hard and leaves things very unbalanced and hollow. Drained.

I had my work Christmas party on Saturday. Which I attended alone. Which sucked. To be the third wheel, or in this case the 5th wheel. To not be able to take part in conversation because it was very “coupled” centered. I found myself with my thoughts drifting off for most of the night, as hard as I was trying to partake in the event. It’s just that my life doesn’t align with their’s, which is fine, but I was basically pouting for the night.

They were all drinking and enjoying their loved ones, and I was just there. Alone. Not nearly as drunk as them, since I’m not a big drinker. I ended up leaving early because my babysitter needed to get home, which was fine by me, gave me an excuse to leave. And they ended up going to a third venue without me, which was probably for the best.

I’m just getting annoyed at being alone.

Yet at the same time, being stuck with E who won’t sign the damn papers and let me be free.

It’s literally the worst irony ever.

-System Of A Down/Lonely Day-

Don’t Think Cause I Understand I Care Don’t Think Cause I’m Talking We’re Friends

As much as I know y’all are attempting to help, joining a group or stressing less… is not going to cure a neurological disease.

I can’t just ‘talk’ my epilepsy away. I can’t just meditate/relax and and expect it will be fine. It’s like you all treat it like mild depression or some shit. This is a disease that is progressing.

I understand that some of you are trying your best with suggestions, but it comes back to the sympathy vs. empathy point of view. You can only see from your point of view. Which if most likely someone who has never been in my shoes. And therefore, to be totally frank, your suggestions hold little value to me because they come from a place that has little to no experience to back them, therefore they hold no weight in my eyes. Where as someone who might possibly know what I could be experiencing…  most likely wouldn’t throw out those nuggets of “advice” knowing the uselessness of them.

People who have been where I am, KNOW that talking about it won’t solve it. Yes, I do talk about it, because I have found lately in my life I cannot depend on anyone in my life personally to discuss things with, so I write here. But that in and of itself won’t solve my neurological problems.

I have epilepsy.

I seize in my sleep.

Doctors can’t figure out why.

No doctor here, or in neighboring cities or even major specialists in the States can figure out my brain.

I’m an anomaly if you will.

Which is why I’m pretty confident that in this situation, there can only be sympathy, not empathy, because the chances of there being anyone else out there experiencing things close to what my brain is… are highly unlikely.

Yes, I’m acting bitchy, but I had at least one more seizure last night if not more. But I still had to pull my shit together this morning and act like nothing’s going on because I have two little ones depending on me.

I have to put a smile on my face and pretend like the world isn’t spinning.

I have to ignore the pounding in my head because I’m already maxed out on pain meds for the day and it’s only noon.

I have to move like every muscle in my body doesn’t feel like it’s on fire.

So excuse me if I’m not the world’s most pleasant person, but seriously? Join a Facebook group? Like social media is going to solve all the worlds problems?

Common now.

If you’re going to give suggestions, at least make them somewhat reasonable.

-Sneaker Pimps/6 Underground-