My mom

We certainly have history. A lot of it bad. 

I have learned a lot in the past year since my divorce was finalized. 

A lot about myself, and a lot about life. 

My mom and I have a toxic relationship that erupted after I was married for a bit. 

I don’t necessarily know why I acted the way I did. 

I just know that I didn’t feel like myself in my marriage. In turn it made me act not myself. 

So, to simply explain the troubles, my mom has always been a little “off” as far back as I can really remember. As I got older it became more difficult to deal with her erractic behavior. 

My parents fought daily, and my mom seemed to become more insane. 

Truth is, she was diagnosed with bi-polar disorder, maybe a few years ago, but refuses to accept treatment for it. 

So, regardless, she is still extremely difficult to deal with. 

After all that I have been through, I finally realized how important family is. 


Every fricken day I am reminded. 

So, I decided to write my mom a letter. Heartfelt, apologetic, and real. 

It has been nearly a month since I sent it. 

I have received no response. 

There really isn’t much more I can do. 


I have learned a lot from my mom. All the little things she used to go out of her way and do for us, just to get some smiles, I find myself doing with my girls. 

But, I also vowed to never be the negatives I saw growing up. 

I saw her struggles and how she lived selflessly and unhappy. 

That was not going to be me. I love my dad, but my parents should have been divorced long ago. 

I refuse to live in misery and not live my life. 

I want happiness. I want peace. I want my family. 

I took a nasty road to get there, but I made it. Now, I am just trying to repair the damage I created. 

What will be, will be. I won’t hold my breath. 

Leap of faith…

I lived a time of misery. Not because life was “terrible”, but it was for me. I was living a life I didn’t belong in.

 I am sorry, but it’s true.

 I hated everyone including myself. I felt dead inside. 

So, call me crazy, label me however you wish, but I said on numerous occasions that I would not end up in a lifeless, loveless marriage like my parents did.

 I grew up in a dysfunctional home. I vowed to never put my kids through what I went through. So, I made a choice. It happened faster than I was ready for, but God must have thought I was ready. So, I took a leap of faith. 

There has been some awful times, but the good times far outweigh the bad. 

Just like after any huge event, there is a period of adjustment and transition. We all made it. We are going to make it. 

Because instead of being stubborn, we ask for help, we look for help. Sometimes the problems are bigger than you, and you just can’t do it alone. 

That is responsibility. That is being a good mom. Accepting help doesn’t make you weak, it gives you a push to continue fighting on your own. 

Growing up (long, but real)

So, here I was putting some of my Jamberry samples together and listening to Pandora. A song that I like from a band/singer I have never heard of came on.  The artist is “Plumb”, and the song is  called “Cut”. 

It had me travelling back through my childhood. All the shit that I have been through until now is pretty fucked up. Thinking about it actually started to rev up my anxiety. 

So, I decided to write. Some of this stuff was shared with very few people. Some of it, just Todd. 

I grew up in a very volatile environment like I had said before. Most of the times I thought it was the norm. I was young, trusting, and I didn’t know there was a difference. 

My thoughts are going to jump. As I think of the many instances that stand out, and not about the time and date.

I remember as a young kid, my mom had broken her arm. I never really pieced it together until I had gotten much older. But, my dad had pushed my mom and knocked her down, and she broke her arm. I never asked him about it, he has never confessed. 

Another time, I witnessed my dad flip over a recliner with my mom in it. I remember sitting on the livingroom floor when it happened. 

In general, there was fighting and arguing everyday, several times a day. 

My mom never slept in the bedroom with him. She slept on the couch as far back as I can remember. 

When I was 11 or 12 years old, my older neighbor that I grew up with as a babysitter and I guess friend, dated a guy who later moved in. I used to always go over there, bake cookies with her, play video games and other stuff. So, I never thought twice about going over there when just he was there. One summer, I was hanging out in the bedroom when he said he had something to do. Not thinking anything of it, I stayed. He then proceeded to lock the door and tell me not to tell anybody. He turned on some porn and began masturbating. I was definitely uncomfortable with both what was on the tv and what he was doing. I stared blankly at a newspaper until it was over and excused myself to go home. 

I went back a few more times, curiosity had me. But, after he started to ask me questions and want to include me, I felt it wasn’t right. I eventually told my mother who I made swear she wouldn’t say anything. I quit going over there, and she never told. And, this is the first time I am sharing all this openly. 

As I got older, and welcome the teen years, my family situation became more evident to me. 

If being a teen isn’t already bad enough with trying to find yourself, I had a whole lot of baggage that I carried with me. 

I dated a lot of assholes. I was lost and confused and wanted attention and love. I wanted someone who couldn’t resist me to pine for me and treat me like a queen. 

I never found it. 

The one guy I dated for 4 1/2 years was just as fucked up as I was. I learned how to cut from him. 

A lot of times it worked. For that moment, as tears streamed down my face, the edge of the razorblade numbed every feeling witnin. It is almost like a junkie shooting up. 

The creative being that I am, I would grab a paintbrush and paint with my blood. 

Again, super real here. I don’t hold anything back. 

Later down the line with him, he persuaded me into having a threesome with another girl. I was with a few different girls. Not always sexually. There were two that were more into me than him. There was one that destroyed me. 

He began to see her without me. I didn’t want to share that way. It eventually broke us up. My life began another downward spiral. 

Looking for approval and affection, I moved onto another relationship, that will go down in history for being the worst of all the assholes I dated. 

He was a drug addict. He stole money from me and others, he memorized all my personal info and was attempting to get credit cards in my name. He smacked me down to the ground. He was a lying, thieving cheater and Karma found his ass and did a fabulous job. 

His dad died on my birthday a few years later after battling colon cancer. He was incarcerated for some time for credit card fraud and identity theft. He found his mom slumped over dead in the livingroom a few years later, and last time I heard from him, which was a few years ago, he was battling liver disease and was on the donor list. 

KARMA, she is a real bitch. 

Anyways, after all that, I was just out of control. Drinking and partying and not giving two shits about much of anything. 

I met guys online. One time I passed out drunk and I woke up puking, and bleeding and sore. 

Then I met my ex. At that time in life, I needed somebody to reel me in. I didn’t consciously decide that, I think fate decided for me. 

Because, if I were ever to meet my soulmate, I needed to be alive and well. 

At that point in life, I was already shocked I wasn’t dead yet. Drugs, alcohol, risky behavior. 

I rode that train out until fate lead me to Todd. 

And here we are present day…Always obstacles and tests being put on my path. But, I overcome them every time. I refuse to allow my shitty childhood and bumpy past define me. I may be broken, but I am not unfixable. I may not be perfect, but I am unique. Exactly what I was voted my senior year of highschool. 

I am fine with my tattered edges and rustic style. I have been through a lot. I wear it all as my armor.