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 http://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-

If I Should Die Before I Wake I Pray The Lord My Soul To Take Cause I’m Ready To Die

I’ve been super stressed for the last maybe two, three weeks. So much so, that my seizures have started up again. It’s been something I’ve been avoiding talking about, because it’s almost like if I didn’t talk about it… maybe it wouldn’t be real.

My seizures have been under control for the last… I don’t even know, close to 4 years probably more. And even before that, I had maybe 2-3 a year at most. But this past while it’s gotten so bad that I’ve had to set myself 5 alarms in the morning to make sure I wake up on time for work. I’m living off Advil. I went out and bought two bed wetting pads to protect my mattress while I sleep because I’ve been wetting the bed each time I seize. Which is one of the reasons I know I’ve been having them. Yeah. I’m a grown ass woman who now wets the bed. Yes I know it’s because of my seizures, but it’s still humiliating to wet the bed at 30 years old.

Which is another reason I haven’t told ANYONE. This was something I thought was behind me. This was something that had been under control for YEARS. And now it’s back. With more of a vengeance than ever before. I have a constant headache. I have continually sore muscles, I’ve woken up with my tongue chewed up and bloody, in a pool of my own urine, or on the floor. But so far, I’ve woken up.

I have a fear that my kids will see me have a seizure, or that it will start one night and won’t stop especially at the rate they are increasing.

So I’ve gone over 911 procedures with Little E, reminding him and Z both of our address and important phone numbers they should know. As well as how to spell their first and last names.

My doctor has been able to do nothing. I went for another MRI last Tuesday night and am waiting for the results but my doctor has indicated that so far I’m at the top end of my medication, and so right now unless I’m completely honest about how my seizures have increased, nothing will change.

But, if I’m honest, I risk having my licence revoked, even though my seizures only happen at night.

So it’s a catch 22.

I’m not sure how much longer I can handle this physical pain without some sort of support.

Also I’m not too keen on seizing to death.

-The Notorious B.I.G Ft. Puff Daddy/ Ready To Die-

I’m Not Angry, I’m Just Saying Sometimes Goodbye Is A Second Chance

So where to begin.

I feel like ranting about every little thing in my life, which I won’t, however easy it would be.

My lawyer contacted me saying E didn’t actually sign the papers like he said he did (which I think I mentioned already). On top of that, he denied me ever telling/discussing the move with him, let alone him agreeing to it. So he had been ignoring my calls/texts/emails EVERYTHING for the last month and a half.

When I finally got a hold of him, he told me he’s been at work this whole time. Suuuure you have, it’s like he forgot I’m a payroll/HR specialist and know ALL the rules about how long he can be at camp for. Which means last rotation on his 10 days off while he was in town, he ignored all my calls and choose not to see the kids. Yes, that also means he hasn’t spoken to/seen them in close to two months now… maybe more I can’t even remember. All because he realized he got caught in his newest lie where he said he signed the papers but he didn’t, so now he’s to scared to answer the phone because he knows why I’m calling.

Fuck I can’t believe I ever married this guy.

Next, Little E’s teacher has been driving me crazy. I don’t know if she’s on some power trip or what, but in her newest move, she kept a few kids in during recess because they got ONE answer wrong on a quiz, and so she wouldn’t let them eat their morning snack while she made them clean other kids cubby’s out. I found out about it because when I asked Little E about his day, his first response was how he was SOOO hungry at lunch, which led me to ask why, etc. etc.

I can’t remember if I’ve ranted about Ms. C before, but in the incident before this (not even the first one, just previous to this, that’s how many there are in this saga), Little E came home from school and when I asked if there was anything exciting at school, he told me how his entire class had to run to the library so that a kid wouldn’t hit them. Umm, what??? Yeah, he says, then the librarian told them to run to the Gr. 6 room and wait quietly. Say WHAT!!!!!

What the hell is with all this running? And who’s hitting? And is there a note from your teacher? Nothing. I asked all the questions I could, and Little E did the best he could to explain, but since nothing had been explained to the class themselves other than RUN, he really had zero information to relay to me. So I emailed Ms. C, who didn’t even respond, but instead (since I’ve questioned her ONCE in the past, and I’m pretty sure she’s intimidated by me since I’m not a grade two-er she can boss around) she passed me off to a school counselor who replied with a half-baked email stating the privacy of our children is most important and the kids were safe at all times, and therefore nothing more would be provided to me.

Umm, no. That doesn’t answer my question. I understand if you have a special needs child who was perhaps having a seizure or something, but send an email or note home to the parents that an incident occurred that day so we aren’t wondering what happened. Especially in this day and age with all the ridiculousness that could potentially happen in schools. I just want to know, and be informed. So that I can know MY child is also safe. That way when I call Ms. C an idiot, at least I do it with all the correct backing knowledge lol. Anyways, it’s getting to the point, where I’m half considering moving Little E to a different class. Mainly because Ms. C is frustrating on so many levels and refuses to work with me. She won’t even respond to my emails, and it’s not like I’m hounding her, I’ve sent her 3 the entire year, and 2 were a back and forth conversation, the third most recent one she didn’t respond to. So most people I’ve discussed this with, think I should take it to the Principal. Thoughts?

Also, Christmas is coming up… so there’s that. My work is doing our thing this Saturday night which originally K said he would come to, but now he’s mad at me for something I legitimately don’t know what. And every time we talk since Friday when this ‘incident’ where I messed up doing I’m not sure what, because no matter how many times I ask he won’t say, he’s gotten more and more enraged. When I ask him to tell me what I did, he says I’m not an idiot I should know. He won’t just explain it to me. So, I’ve tried apologizing although I’m not sure what I’m saying sorry for and I think that makes him more mad each time I do. So then I don’t say anything and that also infuriates him, because he keeps asking if I have anything else to say, and since apologizing makes him mad, I don’t want to do that, but I honestly don’t know what he’s expecting at this point.  Unfortunately I’m not sure what to do now, and he’s at the point where he is so mad at me, that I feel a little uneasy. He’s speaking in terms that slightly scare me, so I’ve decided to take a step back. I have to protect myself and more importantly my children.

So because of that, unless there’s some sort of miracle, it looks like I’ll be going to my Christmas party solo for two years in a row… despite promises on his part denoting otherwise. I think he might honestly just be nervous to meet more people in my life and this might be his excuse. So I’ll just let him have it. Although he did come to my parents house for my birthday dinner with myself and the kids which was so nice of him. He met my parents for the first time and they loved him. He even went back the next day and lad lunch with my mom and worked on his resume alone with her… I can only imagine what they chatted about for that hour.

But anyways, I’ll probably also have to let the kids know that K won’t be coming to Christmas at my parents house on Christmas Eve because of this, which sucks because I know it’s my fault for getting their hopes up. It’s my fault for setting them up for disappointment, and I’ve learned my lesson. I just thought after a year and a half, I could trust him more.

I have only myself to blame for the feeling of hope my kids will lose. And as far as K and I go, if he wants to hold onto his anger, and won’t tell me what I did so I can at least get on the right track in rectifying it, then I just have to let him make his choice. If he chooses to stay mad, and not communicate, I will have nothing left but to choose to retreat.

Because at this point I see no other option.

-Shinedown/Second Chance-