I would love to look forward to fall like I used to. Fires and hoodies and decorating… But all that is over now.

My children are too grown to care about carving pumpkins or roasting seeds. I moved to the country 2 years ago so I don’t have trick or treaters to entertain anymore. I don’t live a block away from anyone who would spot a fire and join me for some laughs, songs and stories.

I’m not even excited for football season. I’ll watch the games, I’m sure, but my best trash talking friends and/or Pittsburgh comrades are either gone or miles away.

It seems like I will spend the fall mostly alone and worried about winter.

I have something called Severe Spinal Stenosis that requires surgery…and as it causes me chronic and debilitating pain, I have no other choice but to follow it through. Who will move snow while I recover from surgery? Will my son be upset I am so limited in what I can and can’t do with him? And then there’s my biggest worry of all. Recovering from Surgery = No work = No money and that = a very poor outlook for Christmas for my children. Sure, my oldest is grown and out of the house, but still, I worry he will be disappointed as well.

Since my two siblings have been married and had their own families, Christmas has always been something we have done in our own, separate family units. We don’t all get together anymore. One of us invites our Mom over and that’s that. There’s no other family to speak of. So, where does that leave my son and I? Waiting desperately for an invitation we are not likely to receive. And if we do? Will I be (most likely) too proud to take it?

Since this divorce started, it seems all I do is worry about my son and money. I suppose, though, that’s normal.

My new normal.

How will I pay the heat bill this winter? How will I put gas in the car? Will I have to get rid of my pets? Will my son notice I’m sad? What time can I break down and cry so he won’t be here to hear me? When can I talk on the phone so he’s not around to eavesdrop? These things are so ever prevalent that I can’t even fathom having to factor in Christmas.

I sit back and think to myself how other people have SO MANY MORE problems than I do. I tell myself it’s not that bad, be grateful for what you have. I tell myself people are starving, dying, their houses gone due to natural disasters. Some people are terminally ill or have lost their loved ones. But I have come to the conclusion (and frankly, I’m more than ashamed to admit this) that no matter how unselfish I try to make my thoughts, they go right back to where and what they were before because no one else’s problems directly affect my children.

This blog is where I’m turning when I am too full. I find myself sick to my stomach (literally) with worry. I break into tears at the drop of a hat. When I can feel myself in overload, I’m coming here to get rid of it…pouring it all out in these pages. It matters not if anyone reads it as long as I’m not hauling it around with me anymore.

So, please, forgive my selfishness and worries you may deem unnecessary. Please forgive my lack of “button” and unfiltered blabbering. I just need to lose the weight of these thoughts for awhile.

HATE IS A VERY BIG, VERY UGLY THING WITH LOTS OF SHARP TEETH.
IT WILL EAT UP YOUR HEART AND LEAVE NO ROOM FOR LOVE.

I have this quote hanging in my kitchen. Trying to remember a time when I did not even have the urge to hate, trying to overcome the actual desire to hate, which is completely new to me, and trying, desperately, to understand the hatred being thrown at me.

I have been told to write. Write everything you feel because keeping it inside will eat you alive. The experts who tell you these things are right.  I am sick to my stomach. I vomit and have diarrhea because my nerves are shot.  I am in constant and chronic pain. So, it’s time. It’s time to write.

On June 25th, my husband was in a very bad mood.  It had been that way for some time, but that day, he was being especially nasty to me.  On June 26th, he lost it. He yelled, he screamed, he kicked things, he called me names and made derogatory comments towards me.  I begged him to tell me what I did to deserve this kind of treatment. He had no reply other than “I want a divorce”.

Now, this didn’t shock me at all. We had been leading separate lives for the better part of the last 10 years. What happened after, however, is still shocking me to this day.

On June 27th, he said he was going to move in with a friend and that friend was going to let him sleep on the couch.  I asked what the friends name was and he told me. It was a females name.  He told me that they had JUST started talking the day before, the day he asked me for a divorce. I didn’t buy it, but lying is just like eating for him. Always has been and always will be.

On June 28th, he packed a bag and moved in with her.  I sat with him and we talked while he packed.  He was still claiming that it was just a place to stay and that, and I quote, “I would never cheat and lie about it. You know you never have to worry about that with me.” He told me she wasn’t even his type. She was afraid of motorcycles. She had young kids and he had no desire to start over with a 2 year old in tow. In fact, he hadn’t even met her kids because she rarely has them. She was very unattractive. She had no teeth because of all the drug use in her past, and, for some reason, he decided to share that her breasts weren’t all that great either.  Why would you tell anyone that? Especially if you have no interest in her…what difference did her breasts make?

Shortly after he moved out, I started up the laptop to get some numbers off of QuickBooks for my divorce lawyer.  Turns out, the last person to have been on it was my soon to be ex husband and he had left his Facebook messenger open and, yes, I read it.

Turns out, he’d only been seeing her for a month. He, in fact, had met her kids and her mother already and they all just loved him. He instructed her to “keep his side of the bed open and that she had a face he could get used to “waking up to”.  Apparently, while he was away on one of his bike trips, he had stayed the night with her. He pursued her, even using taking our son to the movies as some sort of an excuse to try and get her to meet up with him.

Yes, it made me upset, but it really didn’t surprise me.  I wasn’t angry, I didn’t “hate”.  I just despise lying.  Now, I at least had the truth about it all and that made me feel much better, actually.  We both knew our marriage was over long ago, and, frankly, if we had split for any other reason, the outcome would have been the same.  We would have been divorced and we would have moved on.  I was, however, dismayed at my future.  The main bread winner in the family just left me with this acreage, a special needs child, 5 dogs, 2 cats and 8 dollars. He even took the change jars out of the house.

Here’s where the glitch comes in….the glitch of “hate”.

You can not possibly talk to the majority of your friends and stay free from hate.  They immediately call his new girlfriend names (in this case, it was “toothless crack whore”) and tell you what a piece of shit he is.  They come up with imaginary scenarios in which he goes missing and they think, somehow, that is what will make you feel better.  It’s not.  It made me feel like I was becoming a person I absolutely did not want to be.  A person full of hate.

So, with a lot of tears, I gave my ex my blessing, a mere week and a half after this all happened, to introduce our son to his new family. They spend the day at an amusement park and our son said he had a great time. He liked Dad’s new girlfriend and her son, but didn’t like her daughter. We had a long talk about that.  Her son is 12 and our son is 14, so of course, they got along.  Her daughter is 2 and our son has never had to deal with a little sister.  He is also autistic and doesn’t handle certain things too well…screaming children included. So, my son and I talked about how to help her instead of get mad at her.  The things he could do to try and comfort her.  How he needed to try to figure out how to become a part of her life instead of avoiding her. It went so well, he went upstairs and started scrubbing up his old bath toys to give her.  My heart swelled with pride. He came back downstairs and told me “I think Dad is wrong.  I don’t think you’re a big B”.  My heart sank with sadness.  This is it. This is the nightmare I was hoping wouldn’t happen, but here it is, right in my face.  I told him thank you and that I really appreciated that. I went into my room, locked the door and cried.  I cried, not because of this mans opinion of me or that he stated it in front of our son, but because the whole time this precious angel was upstairs scrubbing these toys up for his new “sister”, THIS is what he had to process through his mind.  THIS is what that doe eyed innocent wonder had to deal with.  It’s just not okay.  But, I turned the other cheek, remained smiling for the sake of my child and tucked him in to bed.

It has been this way since.  I’ve asked several times to meet his new girlfriend.  She either has no interest in meeting me or he simply doesn’t tell her.  I told him I owe her an apology for those first few days…those first few days when I bought into the hate.  She didn’t deserve that.  Her daughter turned quite ill during one of our son’s visits and my ex called to see if he could drop him off earlier so he didn’t get sick.  I felt terrible for our son because he really looks forward to those visits.  That was one of several times now I wish I could have said “Well, bring her boy and they can have a sleepover here”.  That would have made them both happy!  But I can’t do that because I don’t know her and she doesn’t know me.  All she knows is what he’s told her and since he’s determined to “hate”, I’m sure what she’s heard isn’t good.  I’m sure it’s not true, either, but if you were in her situation, who would you believe?

I defended her down the core about a social media guffaw last month.  She, my ex, her two kids and our son all went to the zoo.  Our son was very excited about it and, frankly, I was excited to get out of the house for the night.

I was sitting at the races with my very best girlfriend in the world who I seldom get to see and my phone started going crazy.  I had a RIDICULOUS amount of people messaging me about a photo album that had been uploaded to facebook.  She had posted an album with pictures full of the zoo trip and titled it “Our Little Family Trip to the Zoo” or something along those lines.  I guess I was supposed to be furious! But the only thing I was furious about were these “friends” calling me to stir the pot over something that didn’t even need to be addressed, ruining my night out with my friend to start drama and, again, instigate “hate”. I have been trying my hardest to keep this divorce nonsense off of social media, but I posted the following that night… (names have been taken out)

“Okay, folks…I received SEVENTEEN messages tonight about a post on *****’s Facebook.
SEVENTEEN!!!
Yes, *****, his girlfriend, her 2 kids and our son went to the zoo today. Yes, she posted an album titled “Our family trip to the zoo” or something along those lines, and apparently, I’m supposed to be furious.
Here’s the deal… *****’s life now involves a woman and her two kids, but it also involves our son. He loves our son and our son loves him. That’s his FATHER. If he has found someone who already considers OUR child as HER family, then WHY is that such an awful thing?
This is simply another human being to love our son.
I appreciate the concern and care you have for me. I appreciate how you are all looking out for me. I do. I love each and every one of you for supporting me through all of this, but when it comes to bitterness and hatred… Well, Ain’t nobody got time for dat.”

Honestly, if she had titled that album “My family and *****’s family trip to the zoo” people would have had a fit about her not including him.  It’s a no-win situation when people are determined to “hate”.  I do not want to be that person.

Fast forward to last night when he refused to bring our son home like he had said he was going to.  I had no choice other than to call the Sheriff to have him call and maybe talk some sense into him.  When he finally did bring him home.  He tore into the driveway, threw our son’s bags on the ground, yelled at the 17yr old girl who stays with me to help out with our son, then peeled out of the driveway leaving skid marks and almost going in the ditch.  Our son had to watch all of that.  Then he comes inside and tells me, not all at once, but throughout the evening conversations…
“Dad thinks your stupid”
“Dad called you a B”
“Dad said he’s going to get me to live there with him”
“Dad says you’re going to have nothing and that’s going to make him laugh”
There’s several more to add, but you get the picture.  Last month, he told me the most disturbing one of all. I confronted the ex about it in person when he came to get some things from the house.  I said “I need to ask you something. Did you really tell our child that if I tried to take your stuff, you’d bury me?” He replied “Yeah, well, you know how I am when I get mad.”  Just rolled over it like it was no big deal…
Last night, as I’m tucking our son into bed and giving him kisses and tickling him, he stops and says “Do you think Dad will really kill you?”

Boom

That’s what our son has to think about. Not his favorite monster trucks or video games.  Not his friends or his family.  Not his obsession with fishing or going out for Taco night.  This man has forced our child to worry about whether Daddy is going to really kill Mommy or not. And here I sit, STILL determined not to “hate”.

So, what’s the answer? I don’t have one, but I do know that children learn from our example.  To put it into simpler tersm…When my kids were young, I had a rule that no one was allowed to say “Ew” at the dinner table.  If broccoli was on the table, we all had to put a bit on our plate. No exceptions.  Kids learn not to eat their veggies from adults and siblings who refuse to eat them and are vocal about not eating them.

Children also learn to “hate” from our example.  This can be about religion, politics, race, sexual orientation and so much more.  I will not teach my child to hate.  I continue to keep my heart protected from it and will continue to try my best to keep his heart protected from it as well.  I just wish I had some help on the other side of the situation.  I wish he could see what he is doing to this boy.  I texted him last night “Do you see what you are doing to this child?” he replied “I’m not doing anything to this damn kid”.  Really? Just LOOKING at that sentence puts a chill in my bones.

I’d like to say that this is not the man that I married 20 years ago, but it was.  It was him.  He’s still the same person, but his mask slowly faded away through the years.  It’s all so clear in hindsight. He is throwing hatred at me left and right. He is spewing it onto our son. The problem is, we didn’t choose to leave.  We didn’t have an affair.  We didn’t choose to start over with someone else and lie about it the entire time.  So why are we on the receiving end of the hate?  That answer is simple. “The seven sins of a narcissist” as copied from Hotchkiss’ study are as follows…

1. Shamelessness: Shame is the feeling that lurks beneath all unhealthy narcissism, and the inability to process shame in healthy ways.^[clarify]
2. Magical thinking: Narcissists see themselves as perfect, using distortion and illusion known as magical thinking. They also use projection to “dump” shame onto others.
3. Arrogance: A narcissist who is feeling deflated may “reinflate” their sense of self-importance by diminishing, debasing, or degrading somebody else.
4. Envy: A narcissist may secure a sense of superiority in the face of another person’s ability by using contempt to minimize the other person or their achievements.
5. Entitlement: Narcissists hold unreasonable expectations of particularly favorable treatment and automatic compliance because they consider themselves special. Failure to comply is considered an attack on their superiority, and the perpetrator is considered an “awkward” or “difficult” person. Defiance of their will is a narcissistic injury that can trigger narcissistic rage.
6. Exploitation: Can take many forms but always involves the exploitation of others without regard for their feelings or interests. Often the other person is in a subservient position where resistance would be difficult or even impossible. Sometimes the subservience is not so much real as assumed.
7. Bad boundaries: Narcissists do not recognize that they have boundaries and that others are separate and are not extensions of themselves. Others either exist to meet their needs or may as well not exist at all. Those who provide narcissistic supply to the narcissist are treated as if they are part of the narcissist and are expected to live up to those expectations. In the mind of a narcissist, there is no boundary between self and other

Traits include:
1. An obvious self-focus in interpersonal exchanges
2. Problems in sustaining satisfying relationships
3. A lack of psychological awareness
4. Difficulty with or lack of empathy
5. Problems distinguishing the self from others (see personal boundaries)
6. Hypersensitivity to any insults or imagined insults (see criticism and narcissists, narcissistic rage and narcissistic injury)
7. Vulnerability to shame rather than guilt
8. Haughty body language
9. Flattery towards people who admire and affirm them (narcissistic supply)
10. Detesting those who do not admire them (narcissistic abuse)
11. Using other people without considering the cost of doing so
12. Pretending to be more important than they actually are
13. Bragging (subtly but persistently) and exaggerating their achievements
14. Claiming to be an “expert” at many things
15. Inability to view the world from the perspective of other people
16. Denial of remorse and gratitude

It’s not something that you can fix or something that goes away.  It’s something someone needs serious counseling for, but they won’t go get any because they feel they are never in the wrong and don’t realize anything is wrong with them or the damage they are doing.

I pray every day that he will see what he is doing to this little boy we made together.  I pray he will get help.  I pray he will see the consequences of his actions and words, but honestly,  I wonder if even God himself has that much power. So pray for him, my readers and friends.  Pray for my soon to be ex husband. Pray that he sees the destruction he is causing our child.  Pray for his new girlfriend and her children as they have no idea the ride they are on. Pray for my son that he can continue to stay stong and be loving.  Pray that I can continue to keep “hate” from creeping into my heart and his. Pray, my friends, because every single one of us can use all the help we can possibly get.

Today is another funeral for a friend…

I’m fairly good about death. I’m very strong in my faith and I know that their suffering has ended and they’re in a better place.  I’m very good to have around when someone passes because I have that perspective that brings comfort to family and friends.  I am NOT, however, good about burials.
There’s something about putting someone’s body in the ground I am not comfortable with at all.  I remember when my Grandfather died.  I was 9 years old. I was fine during the visitation.  I was fine during the funeral.  I demanded to be dropped off elsewhere while the rest of my family went to the burial.  I did NOT want to put my Grandpa in the ground.
When my Aunt died, I was 16.  I helped plan the funeral.  My Mother was devastated and I had no problem pitching in.  We picked out a casket, her clothes, her hairstyle.  We chose the service, the songs and the prayers.  But when it came time to put her in the ground, I made every excuse in the book to stay behind at the church.  I did NOT want to watch her be put into the ground.

Today, I will go to the funeral and, even with the best of intentions, I will most likely skip out on the burial. I do NOT want to watch my friend be put into the ground.

There’s something very final about the act of burying someone that I am extremely uncomfortable with.  Ashes to ashes, dust to dust…I get that, but it’s never final for me.  I keep them with me forever.  It’s just a body, it’s not my friend.  My friend will live on through me forever.

When I die, don’t stand around and watch while they put me in the ground.  It’s too final.  It’s too much. Keep me alive every day through your memories and your laughter. Keep me alive every day by sharing your memories of me with my children.  Keep me alive every day in your prayers.  Always, always, keep me alive.

I am getting off track on what this post is really supposed to be about.  My friend…my young, sweet, wonderful friend who had two beautiful children, a nursing degree, a job he loved, a supportive and wonderful family and friends who adored him is gone.  He’s gone because it was not enough.

I NEED to get this out there.  I NEED to get this out of my mind and into written words.

If you decide one day that no one cares…know that I DO
If you decide one day that everyone would be better off without you…know that I WON’T
If you decide one day that no one understands…know that I DO
If you decide one day that there’s no one on your side…know that I AM
If you decide one day that you’re too damaged for someone to love you…know that I DO
If you decide one day that no one will miss you…know that I WILL
If you decide one day that no one will hurt if you’re gone…know that I WILL.
I WILL ACHE. I WILL CRY. I WILL MOURN.
YOUR DEATH WILL AFFECT ME NEGATIVELY EVERY DAY.
I WILL BLAME MYSELF FOR NOT KNOWING YOUR PAIN.
I WILL FOREVER BE CHANGED BY THE LOSS OF YOUR LIFE.

Please, please, I beg you…

Don’t do that to me.
Don’t do that to you.

I love you.
Never forget that.

This morning, I had a very scary incident happen to me.

I was asked to loan my motorcycle to a friend and had no problem doing that.  I went out to the garage to clear out my saddlebags, check the tires for air and start her up.  She’s a cold blooded girl and takes a few minutes to decide it’s time to run.

I stood beside my 1500 Vulcan and started her up.  Unfortunately, the last person who was on it, didn’t put it in neutral like I always do and the bike jumped forward just enough to pop the kickstand.  The bike fell on top of me and I was wedged between it and a dishwasher that is sitting in the garage waiting to be installed.

The bike wasn’t completely on me, I was holding it up with everything I had.  Realizing I wasn’t going to be able to do this for very long and my leg and arm would be pretty pulverized when my arms gave out, I started screaming for help.

Now, I live in a rural area.  I rarely see anyone out here. I’m six miles from a main road and, frankly, I didn’t think it was worth a shit to try, but in that situation, I had to!  I was screaming and honking the air horn on my bike thinking “Please God, no no no no no”.

I heard someone roll up in the driveway.  I figured it was my friend coming to get the bike and I thought, THANK GOD!!! But the strangest thing happened.  It was a gentleman from Texas, out in a truck, checking on utility poles in the area.  He heard me about 1/2 mile from the house and came tearing across the yard.

We pushed together and got the bike up.  I was shaking and in tears and he just stood there rubbing my  back.  I thanked him over and over again. I kept saying “What are the chances you’d be out here!” His name was Charles.

Oh, THANK YOU CHARLES!

After he’d left, I sat on the bike for a few minutes and gathered my thoughts.  How did that happen? How did he just happen to be out here in the middle of nowhere within earshot of my pleas for help?  And then, it hit me.

Of all the things I do for other people, I finally got “paid back”. Not by them of course, but by this total stranger.  Not even by him, but by God. For once creating this man, giving him this job and putting him in this place at just that time.

mind.blown.

I’ve never been one to think they need to be “paid back”. Money, things, time, it doesn’t matter, really.  When I do something, I do it from my heart because I think it needs done.
I see a lot of people posting on facebook about these things.  I hear a lot of my friends talk about it. I hear of friendships breaking up over such silliness. How they did something for someone and they never got “paid back”.

Well my friends, here’s what I learned today:
If you loaned someone 20 bucks, don’t expect them to “pay you back”.
If you drove someone around, don’t expect them to pay you back”.
If you gave someone a place to stay, don’t expect them to “pay you back”.

It’s not up to them to pay you back. It never was.
It’s not up to them to pay me back.  It never will be.
It’s always been between me and God, and it always will be.

Life is short.
Don’t worry about the technicalities or getting “paid back”.
Just pay it forward.

Someday, you will have that moment, when you realize that all your good deeds have just been handed back to you ten fold. ❤