The college years… #4

I opted not to go to college immediately after high school because I didn’t know what I wanted to spend the rest of my life doing.  Instead, I worked, and got much closer to by best friend.  He proposed to me on my birthday and 6 months later we were married.  We were kids, without a clue.  I felt sorry for him because he grew up in a home with name calling and constant yelling.  He used to come to my house just for the solitude.  I knew from day one he was a small boy trapped in a man’s body.  I did the best I could to encourage him, but the damage his parents had caused him was irreparable.  He was miserable and slowly taking me down with him.  We were married for just about 10 years when everything started falling apart.  I will take 50% of the blame, but if you ask him, it’s ALL my fault.  You see, we had a child shortly after we were married, and at no point in time did he express any interest in being a father.  Of course, when family would come over, he’d play the part, but as soon as they left, he was back to his normal self.  Sad, because at 11 years old, my son now has abandonment issues.  He’s so confused.  Why doesn’t my dad love me, but he loves all these other kids (1 step son and 2 more of his own that he plays a very active role in their lives).  His father recently said some pretty nasty things to him, and has yet to apologize, and although I tell my son it’s not good to hate anyone, he insists he hates his father.  I try to explain that we can hate words and actions, but not people.  As human beings we’re entitled to make mistakes.  My son says his father has made too many.  The most recent?  Getting married and not even calling to try to ask our son to attend the wedding.  I’m not a therapist, but my son has a good one.  I’m going to leave this in his hands.  My son has a deep-rooted dislike for his father and it’s not fair of me to say that’s not allowed.  Perhaps one day he’ll understand.  Fighting, yelling, screaming, name calling, physical abuse to toughen the boys up… that’s all his father knows.  How can we be mad at someone for not being educated?

So, the theme of this particular blog is going to be…  The universe gives us tests.  If we fail, those tests will keep reappearing unless or until you pass.  I think his father just failed another test.  However, I am guilty of the same.

As our marriage started to collapse, I met a man (once again, on-line) through a mutual friend.  When he found out my husband had 2 cell phones and I didn’t have one, and I walked the dogs alone at night, the first thing this man did was send me a cell phone.  I thought it was a kind gesture.  I now see it was a way to keep track of me.  He’d monitor my texts and outgoing calls, etc.  At the end of the month, he’d want to know who this number belonged to, etc.  I thought it was a bit strange, but he was doing me a huge favor, as I wasn’t comfortable being out in the dark, alone.

My husband knew of this man, and of the phone.  He just chalked it up to one less bill he’d have to pay.  What he didn’t know was this man was very slyly turning me against my husband, and I fell for it all.  He’d send gifts, and make promises that since our friendship was so tight, he’d never allow anything to happen to me or my son.  Apparently he was a very wealthy  man (lie), but his promises to me gave me the courage to finally say I’m done.  I want a divorce.

Now, I should point out that at no point in time did we ever have a strong marriage.  We started out declaring bankruptcy, because my husband had a $600 a week crack habit I was unaware of.  He relapsed shortly after my son was born.  My best girlfriend at the time was living on the first floor of the house we were living in and we were on the second floor.  My son’s first memorial day, the two snuck off into the bushes and had sex.  I got a double whammy!  My 2 best friends did the unthinkable and hurt me in a way no one ever has.  I’ve forgiven them both, as a means for me to move on, but it’s something I’ll never forget.  I decided to forgive my husband, for the mere fact that I could not raise this child on my own (or so I thought) and we moved an hour away.  Then things got even worse, because he was one of those “Keeping up with the Joneses” types.  Everything our neighbors did, he had to do, putting us into even more debt.  So, the only way I can describe our marriage is as a handful of tiny pebbles.  Instead of being the rock it was supposed to be, it was fragments of rocks, slowly trickling through my fingers, until I had nothing left to hold on to.

One night, as I was giving our son a bath, I had apparently angered him about something.  He stormed into the bathroom and began choking me, right in front of our son.  I’ve never heard my son talk about this, and I pray to God he was too little to remember, but him doing this sealed his fate.  I had told him my life story.  he knew I was a victim of abuse, and here he was, all 6’10”, 250lbs, choking me.  I was fat and lazy, and according to him stayed home eating Bon Bon’s all day while he went out to support us all.  Now, mind you, I was still suffering from all of these diagnoses, they just hadn’t been diagnosed yet.  I was in a constant state of fear, and that’s no way to live.  I wanted to die.

My husband left the night I told him I wanted a divorce, and went right to my sister’s house.  He returned to get more things later in the evening, and had a contract for me to sign.  It stated he was leaving because I was crazy and he couldn’t stand living under these conditions any more, and that it should in no way be seen as him abandoning his son.  The witness?  My lovely sister.  She walked into my house, and thank God I was on the phone with my father, because if I wasn’t, I think she’d still be trying to recover from her injuries.  I told her 3 times to get out of my house.  She refused unless or until I signed the contract.  I laughed at their little pact and their contract, and got them out.  I read the contract to my father and he was very specific in saying “Don’t you dare sign anything.”  Then he got me a really good lawyer.

My ex has 2 more years to go before he has to begin making maintenance payments.  At one point I promised him I wouldn’t go after him for that, but my lawyer wouldn’t let him off without some kind of payment.  I’d been a stay at home mom for most of our time together, and she was determined that I get something.  I told him to just sign the papers and we could be done.  So, after everything he’s failed to do for my son, my son is owed that money, and I will be going after it.  And what’s even better is that there is a specific time line he has to pay it by.  Poor guy .  He’s now married to my best friend and they have 2 small boys together.  He’s drinking like a fish and has a big beer belly.  My son says that on the days he has gone over to visit his father, both his father and his step mother have been violent to all the kids (baby’s mind you) to toughen them up.  This disgusts my son and me as well.  But it’s their life now.  It’s called Karma, but it’s pronounced HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA.  I would have done anything for that man, and he knows it.  Now he’s stuck.  He has confessed on a couple of occasions how unhappy he is, but again…this is his test.  I can’t go giving him the answers; nor do I even have the desire.

Now, the on-line man?  Oh, the empty promises he made were priceless.  You see, he wasn’t wealthy at all.  It’s his parents (whom he’s still living with at 47 years of age) who are wealthy.  He moved here and lasted a week.  I discovered real quick that I made a huge mistake and went over to my mom’s to confide in her.  It happened to be my birthday weekend and he wanted to take us all out to dinner (his mother was sending him $2,000 a week to ensure his survival).  Knowing full well I have anxiety issues and don’t like to leave my house, I suck it up and just go out and do it.  Doesn’t this little freaking diva pitch a fit over pasta sauce?!  Making a scene in the whole restaurant.  I was mortified.  I was depressed.  I was stuck.  I made a huge mistake and I didn’t know how I was going to fix it.  My doctor prescribed a very low dose of Depakote which I had a severe allergic reaction to.  While I was out of it, he packed his things and moved back home with his parents.  Opposite coasts, but still not far enough away.  And this is where the stalking begins…  But, I’ve got to run, so I’ll write about him later.  Oh, he’s a peach!  Can’t wait <again, sarcasm>.


Until next time,

~Crazy No More smile





Senior High… Crash Course in Reality. #3

So, junior high comes to an end and 9th grade begins.  It was here where I met the guy I was determined to spend the rest of my life with.  He was an absolute sweet heart, and popular.  I was a little confused… why would a popular, sports star be interested in me?  I was a no one.  Well, you know what they say… hind sight.  I had EASY written all over myself, and not in a sexual term, but in terms of a target.  I didn’t know until a few months after our relationship began, that he suffered from some serious anger issues, and I just happened to take the place of his punching bag.  I should have left him after the first physical fight, but I was afraid.  He threatened to beat up all my male friends if I did.  If that happened, they’d no longer want to be my friend.  And looking back, I think I stayed because some part of me felt I deserved it for being so stupidly blind to begin with.  We lasted almost 4 years, and there was never a week without a fight. His mom actually walked in on one of them.  She grabbed me out of his room, threw a chair at him and ran me to her car to get me home.  So, I hope you can understand my confusion when she was inviting me back for dinner not 2 days later.


I decided that he was the “man” I was going to give my virginity to.  I wanted it to be special, so I planned it for Valentine’s Day.  But on that Valentine’s day, I had my period, ruining the plan and causing another beat down.  Yup.  It was all my fault mother nature decided to make me menstruate on the 14th.  Regardless, he got it 5 days later, and I’ll never forget the day.  It was hardly special.  In fact, it was on his bedroom floor with rap music blaring in my ear.  I told him to stop because it hurt but he insisted that I’d get used to it.  I didn’t.  I bled, and I cried the whole way home.  I think I was more disappointed in myself than in pain.  But by this point, I was numb to any and all physical pain.  It’s the internal pain, the emptiness, the loneliness that hurts so much more.  The name calling, the passing me off to his friends as if I was some kind of whore.  I never did go through with it, which was cause for another beating.  And by this time he was smart enough not to leave visible bruises.

One night after I got out of work, he picked me up.  However, while I was working, he went through all my school work and found a Senior picture of a boy he didn’t know.  He assumed I was cheating on him, and nothing I said would convince him otherwise.  I told him to throw the picture out; it didn’t mean all that much to me.  He said he was going to kill us both and drove off the road aiming for a tree.  I panicked, but knew that I had to remain calm in order to get home.  He relaxed a bit, and asked me if, despite his outburst, I was still going to hang out with him that night.  I laughed it off pretending it was no big deal and assured him repeatedly that our plan to spend the night together was still on.  I just had to get home and change my clothes.  Then I’d be good to go.

We got to my house, and as soon as we got out of the car, I could see my family sitting on the couch watching TV.  I looked him dead in the eyes and said I wanted my school ring back, and never wanted to speak to him again.  He began choking me to the point I almost passed out, and then kicked me in the stomach, ripped off the necklace that was holding my ring and threw the ring at me.  He said I wasn’t worth it, called me a few names and then got his car and left.

I ran in the house as if I had to use the bathroom, so that no one would see me crying.  Once I was in my bedroom, my sister came in to see what was up.  She saw the finger prints on my neck, and just shook her head and walked out.  No hug, no consolation… nothing.  I think THIS is when all the problems with my sister began.  She was living the picture perfect life, engaged to be married, and couldn’t be bothered with my “drama.”

After high school, my parents got divorced.  I had to face my fears and get a full time job to help my mom pay the bills. I was having panic attacks on a regular basis, and would call her at 2:00am so she could talk me through them.  While at this job, I met a guy who I instantly clicked with.  After hanging out a few times, we actually started dating, and I began to open up to him about my anxiety and panic.  He was in college and taking a psychology course, and said he believed I had a legitimate diagnoses.  So, he talked to his professor and set up a meeting with him.  I spoke to this professor for a good hour, and he agreed with my boyfriend.  There was definite signs that I had anxiety issues, and it was his recommendation that I seek therapy ASAP.  I didn’t have health insurance at the time, so he referred me to a class of students studying to become therapists. Two weeks later I was a lab rat for potential future psychologists.  Awesome.

This relationship didn’t last long.  It just didn’t work out. But I am grateful for all he did to help me.  In my spare time, I spent hours  in AOL chat rooms, just for company.  It was here that I met the  next monster in my life.  He was a sweet heart over the computer!  He constantly had me laughing, and we had some pretty intense conversations.  My best friend at the time (who would later turn out to be my husband) was very skeptical of him, but once he arrived here from Pennsylvania, they got along great.  I didn’t realize that my computer friend was a pot smoker and a master in Jiu Jitsu.  Again… awesome.  I can’t say I wasn’t warned this time around.  Both of my parents didn’t approve of his visit, but I think this was some type of rebellion that I would definitely pay for.  Once the house was empty, the monster struck.  He was nice at first, flirting as foreplay, making mac and cheese and wiping it on the end of my nose.  Just being silly.  Then something happened.  It was like a someone flipped a switch in him.  While the food was still cooking on the stove, I was forced into my bedroom and robbed of any purity I had left.  I gave him one hell of a fight, but he just laughed, and when he was done, he pulled out and came all over my stomach.  My arms were pinned and he leaned down, licked his own semen off of my stomach and then spit it in my mouth.  Then said “That’s how it’s done bitch.” I just met the devil himself.  Before I could even regain my composure, he had packed his bags and was on the road.

I got up, turned the stove off and took a long hot shower and cried… a lot.  I couldn’t admit this to my parents, because I was afraid I’d get the “I told you so.” so I called my best friend.  He came over and was ready to get on the thruway and hunt this monster down.  Instead, I asked him to just hug me and let me cry.  I think it was his compassion in such a hurtful moment that made me see him as more than just a friend.  And because I can’t think about this stuff any more today, this is where I’ll leave off.

Have a good day…

~Crazy No More smile


The hell of Junior High #2

By the time most of us reach junior high, we know we belong to a certain clique.  We have established friendships, sports we’re interested in, our first crushes, etc.  Nope.  Not me.  I was lost.  Wandering around aimlessly with no idea of what was expected of me.  Why was I the only one having to leave class to “use the bathroom” but really to get through a panic attack?  My mom had told me everyone has anxiety, but it seemed that I was the only one suffering.  I was friends with everyone.  Or maybe friendly is a better way to describe it.  I don’t feel as though I had a real friend until my last year of high school, but we’ll get to that later.

So, basically junior high was a time for my anxiety to grow in monster proportions, latching onto my veins, running like fluid through my brain, all throughout my body. It is my belief that this is when the depression was born.  I knew I was different, but couldn’t explain why.  My sister and brother were in the senior high, and they were popular.  They were going out with their friends all the time, partying and having fun.  I was content to stay in my room alone, listening to the radio or reading a book, but again, wondering why I was so different.  The loneliness set in after awhile, and soon, I was crying for no apparent reason.  My parents can tell you… I nailed a sleeping bag over my window and sat in the dark.  I was very uncomfortable in my own skin and so badly wanted to be anyone but me.

In 8th grade, a senior expressed an interest in me.  I was 12 or 13 and he was 18.  I don’t know what he said to my parents, but whatever it was, my mom loved him and allowed him to bring me home from school in his truck so that I didn’t have to take the bus.  We’d never go directly home though.  He’d take a back road and park and do things to me that made me VERY uncomfortable.  According to him, this was all normal.  This is what people do.  He’d ask me and beg me for a hummer, and I  was  so confused.  A hummer to me was a truck.  Why would this guy be asking me for a  truck? I was in 8th grade.  I didn’t have ANY money.  All I knew is that what he did to me physically, hurt, and it didn’t make me feel good.  My instincts told me to end the relationship, but how?  I’d never broken up with someone before.  Well, he did it for me.  He gave me an ultimatum.  He said “Put out or get out.”  See ya!!  No way was I having sex at 12 years old!  I may not have been the brightest bulb in the shed but I knew that was wrong.

So, to sum it all up, Junior High for me was nothing more than a breeding ground for all of these disorders to gain possession of my mind and body; establish themselves and get nice and cozy.  I’m 36 and they’re very much still here.  In fact, over the past couple of weeks, the depression has gotten a good hold of me.  However, because I am a single mom, falling apart is not an option.  I’ve yet to find a psychiatrist that accepts my insurance, so I suffer in silence, as I don’t want my child to see this part.  It would kill him.  Junior High were just a few of the worst years of my life.  There is plenty more to come, so stay tuned.

Until next time,

~Crazy No More smile


Mental Illness? Oh, get over it already!

This line cracks me UP!  Do you, as someone without mental illness, have any freaking clue what it’s like just trying to get out of bed some days?  Do you have any idea how much pain we (those with mental illness) are in?  Don’t you think if we could “get over it already” we would jump on that?  Seriously?  This get over it already shit has got to stop.  If it were that simple, trust me, we would gladly do it.  But it just goes to show how much stronger we are than you.  Because we have to listen to this ignorance on a daily basis.  You can’t handle your car breaking down.  I dare you to live a day in my head.  You’d kill yourself; guaranteed.  And do you know how I know this?  Because you don’t have the strength or courage to educate yourself, yet we live with it and deal with your ignorance on top of it!