What Do You Want From Me?

I have made a lot of mistakes in my life. I remember them, you don't have to keep reminding me. You may remind me directly or you may remind me indirectly, like a screwed up ninja bouncing around in the dark leaving subtle (and not-so-subtle) hints everywhere that I'll never be good enough for you. I'll never be good enough for anyone.

I don't believe that. I believe I AM good enough. But, damn. What is the breaking point, exactly, between my past and my present that certain people just cannot, or refuse to, see? I constantly hear people say, "leave the past and your mistakes behind you, you can do nothing about them, you can only concentrate on today." I wonder if those people have any clue whatsoever how difficult a task that is when you have a few monkeys swinging by on branches constantly throwing "past poo" in your face. Swinging through life on branches coated with feces of the past is a monumental task at times. No, all the time. Personally, I'm sick to death of it. It makes me wonder if ANYTHING I do matters at all.

Please stop the world. I want to get off now.

It's only Monday and already I feel like my week has been crushed. My kids mean the world to me, and even though only 2 of them are talking to me right now, when one of those two is enthusiastic about having a relationship with me and asks for my help specifically with something that is special and important to her, it brightens my entire life. My circumstances make it difficult for me to get around and get certain things done, but I literally do everything in my power to make my kids happy, including walking the 5 miles to or from their dad's house, if need be. Turns out, I'm not even "allowed" to do that.

Want to know what a heart of gold looks like from the outside of a body that belongs to a beautiful strawberry blonde 18-year-old? There you go. To say that my daughter is amazing would be the understatement of the decade. She has been through so much, and continues to struggle, in her life; but the way she deals with her struggles astounds me. She doesn't let her Aniridia get in her way. Not if she can help it, anyway. She faces adversity head-on. Her compassion for others overwhelms me completely. I have watched this girl spend more money on other people simply because the desire of her heart is to see the ones she loves happy, than I've ever seen her spend on herself. She's completely unselfish, has more love than she probably knows what to do with, is an inspiration to more people that she probably realizes, and always, ALWAYS gives of herself without expecting anything in return, yet I know she has a yearning to be loved; and she is. She is loved so much. I'm biased, of course. I'm mommy. I mean, what mom wouldn't love a child as incredible as this one? Actually, sadly there are some pretty shitty moms out there. I'm not perfect AT ALL, and definitely far from a perfect mom, but no one can ever say I don't love my children. Even in the dadgum middle of my biggest and most harsh mistakes, I've proven I love my children in ways that many parents, or people, will ever know or understand.

Important note: I DON'T CARE IF YOU UNDERSTAND. I DON'T CARE IF YOU DON'T UNDERSTAND. I'M RESPONSIBLE FOR WHAT I LIVE AND HOW I EDUCATE YOU. I AM NEVER, EVER RESPONSIBLE FOR WHAT YOU DO AND DON'T UNDERSTAND.

Last year, she would leave me notes all over the bathroom mirrors when I was still living at the farm. I forgive you for ruining and using up my favorite red lipstick. How could I possibly be mad about lipstick when my mirror says "Best Mommy Ever" written by an 18-year-old? I wish you could see the amazing stuff she wrote to the right of that. I have no idea what happened to that picture. I wish I did. It was the most encouraging message she ever could have left me. I'm sure it's wiped clean now that I'm gone. It was all about not giving up and that my scars mean something, especially to God. I can feel my eyes burning just remembering that moment when I saw it for the first time. She had already left to go back to her dad's house.

Her dad. One of the biggest reasons I am writing this right now. I don't bash. I don't like to bash. I will write about what I don't understand, though, and at the moment, that's quite a bit. I'm boggled, if you will.

My daughter has something very special planned for someone this weekend. There are several food items that she wants to prepare. She knows I'm creative and also love to cook, and do a darn good job at it if I must say so myself, so who did she ask to help her on Friday night with these things? Me. Unfortunately, I don't have a vehicle at the moment. However, I will find a way to get around, even if it's my own 2 feet, in order to make things happen. Originally, she was going to come over here so I could help her cook things. She can be dropped off. Our concern is getting her back home. Then we thought of the possibility of me making my way over there, by whatever means necessary, to help her get this stuff done. Apparently, neither will happen. 1) Her dad doesn't want to pick her up from here when we are done. Not can't; won't. 2) I can't go over there because her dad and step-mom won't be there and I can't be there when they aren't.

Are you kidding me right now? Am I being Punk'd? No, I'm not being Punk'd. I'm evidently just still in a vicious cycle of someone else's narcissism that I that had improved and was just bitch-slapped via text from my daughter (who felt really bad about having to tell me that) by someone that is so self-righteous, that I've got to be going to hell if I'm really that much of the bottom feeder that I just got portrayed as. I'm still reeling a little bit and trying to come up with SOME kind of valid reason why this was just said. I have nothing. If I recall correctly, I've been at the house plenty of times when they weren't there, even BABYSAT THE CHILD THEY HAVE TOGETHER FOR THEM, and it's never been a problem. Why suddenly is it a problem now? I'm more confused than a chameleon in a bag of Skittles. My imperfectness has just become too much? Afraid that I'm actually better than you in some small way? That sounded pretty self-righteous for ME to say, but really; I feel like I'm being punished because my daughter loves me. This is the same man who has told me on more than one occasion that my children need their mother and that he would always encourage them spending time with me and never hinder it.

Houston, we have a serious problem. One that NASA cannot fix.

So, here I am writing when I should have been sleeping at LEAST 5 hours ago, will now be sleep-deprived for work, none of this is helping my head pain at all, because I've been trying to come up with every single feasible way I can to still help my daughter on Friday night; and I'm super sad because I'm currently at a loss. At a loss of thoughts, a loss of further words, a loss of the one thing I was looking forward to the most this entire week, a loss of mind, a loss of ideas. I'm a canvas waiting to be splattered by any type of art medium; get to splashing!

There is no point in trying to contact her father. He never responds to my texts, emails, or messages. Ever. He will have one of the kids respond, or I will suddenly get a random text from their step-mom. I'm sorry, but did I have any of my children with your help? I think not. Step off.  I tried my hardest to be friends with both of them, but they both have such a tight grip on my past and every single one of my transgressions that I have ever committed, that they can't even concentrate on the issues they have between them. Trust me when I say there are many, and why I seem to be the focus so much instead of each other is more than baffling. Anything to take the attention of history repeating itself, I guess. Sometimes I feel sorry for her. Sometimes I just think, "Bitch!"

What I do know, is that I need that pretty face smiling right there. We were in Maine together when I took that picture of her. At least we have those memories, and hopefully more to come.

Parents: If you truly want to be a good one, don't interfere with your children's development of a relationship with the other parent. Don't talk bad about them to them. Don't call them names or be accusatory in front of them. If you truly want to nourish and enrich your child's life, let them love who they need to love and allow them to be loved in return by the people that matter the most, whether you have a problem with them or not. The only case where I would state otherwise is in reference to child abuse, and I don't abuse my children. I've never wanted anything but the best for them. I screwed that up plenty and owned up to every single bad decision I've ever made. It's time to move on.

Just move on, already. If you don't, you might be the one wanting to spend time with them one day... and they are going to be able to make their own decision that they aren't interested.

No More Hook.

I threw myself out there again today for the last time. The ball is in his court. I'm tired of games. I'm tired of excuses. I'm tired of being bound by conditions being set on me, but not him, in order for the relationship to ever be again. It's a double-standard, and if there is one thing I passionately dislike, it is a double-standard. If you are going to set expectations for me and expect me to change for you, which by the way... I'M NOT... I will only change for myself; then you better believe I am going to have expectations of you! The problem with that statement, is I don't go into relationships with unreasonable expectations. It only sets you up for disappointment. I will, from this day forward, go in with specific boundaries, however. So, I obviously have a dilemma and suppose I will have to rephrase this.

His conditions: To see me as a self-reliable person who never depends on anyone for anything ever, and be proud of myself because I can take care of myself. You got it, bud! After you threw me out of the house for my own good, I have been practicing self-care for some time now and love myself, honestly, for the first time ever. I have self-confidence, I have self-worth that is dependent on NO ONE. I have goals and a future that is positive, regardless of who it is with or not with, and wherever I am. I know this because I choose positivity. The part I have a problem with - never depending on anyone else.. EVER. We should be able to depend on each other. Not be dependent on each other, but depend on each other. Isn't there a difference? Yes, that's a rhetorical question. Oh, and I need to grow up and not use my bipolar disorder as an excuse (I'm not sure for what), stop manipulating people, stop making stuff up (I used to do that.. addict and abuse survivor behavior.. that behavior is GONE, thank you very much), and stop seeking attention. I am completely transparent. There is a difference between transparency and attention-seeking. I don't care about your attention. I only choose to share so that others may be potentially helped, while helping myself overcome my life at the same time.

My conditions, if I were to actually give them to him: Stop talking about me. Stop telling me what I need to do to fix myself, and work on fixing yourself. You are more broken than I am. Stop drinking. You may think you don't have a problem with alcohol, but you were once a self-proclaimed recovering alcoholic, suddenly saying that people were your problem instead, yet a beer a night went to 2 then 4 then 6 then possibly even 12, you decide to scream obscenities in my face for 45 minutes, throw things, and I'm forced to clean up your vomit the next morning... it's a problem. Not to mention the fact that if I was really your "problem, and now that you aren't here anymore, problem solved.", you wouldn't have needed to continue drinking anymore or felt the need to. Just sayin'. Your anger issues would have also disappeared since I was the problem; but they haven't. In a nutshell, stop blaming me, because even though you say you don't - you do. Do not talk down to me about my mental illness. I have no control over the fact I have bipolar disorder, but I do have control over how I treat it, and it's being treated very well. I'm not talking about popping pills, either. There is this thing called behavioral therapy that actually works quite well, in addition to medication. You see, you take your thoughts captive (imagine that), and those thoughts that turn into feelings can be altered. Your reactions and actions then change, therefore making your behavior different. It's a magnificent concept! Stop bringing up my past. I don't live there anymore. If I wanted to do the same to you, I could have made you feel less than scum in 0.98 seconds; fortunately, I'm not that person anymore. Take an anger management course. Putting holes in doors and throwing things only helps temporarily because of a surge in adrenalin, and hurts you, and other people, in the process. Get some help. The things that have happened to you in the past are holding you hostage and consequently turning you into a resentful, bitter, and ugly person; nothing like the person I fell in love with. Lastly, don't ever say anything about me not being the person you thought I was when we met, fell in love, and subsequently got together (again) 2 years later, because the only thing that changed that person was the fact that I allowed you, certain lifestyle behaviors, and not standing up for myself, change me.

At the risk of sounding like a combination of Jack Nicholson and Arnold Schwarzenegger, from The Shining and Terminator, respectively... "Heeeeeerrre's Barbara!" and "I'm baaaack!"


I will never let another person, or their lack of respect for my boundaries, change me again. I have a voice. I HAVE A VOICE. And I will never refrain from using it again, either. I have the ability to say, "Even though I asked you not to buy all that, and you did anyway, I can still say I don't want it."  I have the ability to say, "I don't want to do that, I'm not comfortable with it."  I have the ability to say, "You are really hurting my feelings right now and I would appreciate it if you would just listen for once instead of turning things around on me and mentioning something I have done. If you want to talk about that, we can do it another time, but right now this is what we are talking about." I have the ability to say, "You don't have the right to treat me like that or talk to me that way. I don't do that to you!"  I have a voice, dammit.

I am not a fish on a line and today I am taking the hook out of my mouth. The bait is no longer there. I will not be strung along under the assumptive presumption that there is a possibility that everything will just be peachy keen one day and we'll both be handy dandy, and we'll get back together, go live in the country on a farm with my horse that I will probably never get to hug again, and be a normal couple that works through their problems together, instead of apart - because I have been given no indication of that, whatsoever. All I get are "It's not that I don't love you...."'s and "It's not that I don't miss you..."'s, BUT..... There are no buts. We are either working this out while working on ourselves.. or we aren't working this out while working on ourselves. And he can't even answer that question. So, I am answering my own question.

Do you want to spend every day of your life wondering whether or not you will have a relationship with your ex-fiance of 3 years again, wondering if he misses or loves you for real, wondering what he is really thinking, worrying about him, and STILL trying to think of a way to fix his life for him, instead of moving on with your own life, taking care of yourself, caring about yourself, learning how to be alone again and being perfectly okay with that again, and loving the world around you completely, without feeling like part of your insides wants to throw itself up?

"NO."

I'm letting go.

God, you can have it.

I apologize if the tone of this ended up sounding bitter. I'm not bitter at all. I'm just tired. Extremely, vastly tired, and this was the end of the rope that I just let go of. The frayed edges are waving above my head, swaying in the calming wind and getting further and further away. I wish nothing but the best for him; pray nothing but the best for him. I just can't help him. By letting go, I think essentially I will be helping both of us. At least, that is my hope.

Something I have again.  H.O.P.E.