I have one rule for myself- never again will I fall in love.
Of course I am lonely. Of course I get jealous of happy couples. Worst yet, watching my younger sister get everything I had wanted myself. A man to stand at her side her whole pregnancy, a man that made (and so far, kept) a promise to her for the rest of her life. Being maid of honor at her wedding was a struggle- almost torturous! But I would never tell her that because we do selfless things for the ones we love. Still, I tell myself on a daily basis that love was never my forte. I hate to inadvertently teach my son that men in general leave (sad but true). So I do my best to keep him from seeing that by staying alone. Already he has seen all the men in his life walk away- at two he doesn't understand it yet so it saves him pain for now... but as soon as he gets old enough to realize it, he will have gigantic abandonment issues. First was his father, now with Clam gone I am wondering who would be the next to go. Clam's departure was a good thing in every aspect of my life, but Evan doesn't understand that. All he knows is that his papa is gone. It doesn't get any easier, this parenting gig...
The way I see it, as long as I let no one into my heart, both hearts are safe from harm. My son has me and I have him. His mom won't ever leave. Don't get me wrong there is a huge part of me that wants to date, see what is out there. My friend Katie even has a good looking, stand up, available guy in mind... my only thing is- what the hell would he want from me? My looks haven't just faded they are gone. I am overweight (no matter how hard I try to loose it), my teeth are disgusting, I am emotionally damaged, I make 9 dollars an hour working at a liquor store, and I have another man's son who consumes every second of free time I get. Not exactly exuding qualities men look for in the dating world. Not to mention I have NO GAME...
For example, I have a HUGE crush on one of the customers that occasionally comes in for some budlight. *sigh* Shawn... He is everything I go for in a mans looks and his personality takes the cake. Very tall, Irish boy with a gorgeous smile and a twinkle in his eyes. *melts a little* This is the only customer that comes to my store I would ever consider dating. I'm realistic though, and I know this man is football Fields out of my league. Still when he comes into the store I get the butterflies in my tummy, knees trembling, palms sweating sensations I haven't had since my high school crush (coincidentally his name was also Shawn). A few weeks back he came in while I was working with Timmy (my favorite boss, who is gay and knows how much I love him because we are always checking out the cuties). Well of course when Shawn came up to the register Timmy goes "Shawn- you know Erica right, shawn erica, erica shawn *giggle giggle*". My face was purple. I haven't blushed like that in a very long time. Like I said the kids personality is incredible he is just so nice. Shook my hand (only making me redder) and commented on Timmy making me do all the work (of course I wanted too wait on him). The whole thing was funny but it just proved to me my lack of game I mentioned before. He came in again yesterday and when he got up to the register I almost broke the customer ahead of him's bottle of wine! Because when I see him I trip over my words, I get so nervous that my hands tremble. I am easily compared to a little kid with a crush, men don't want that in a woman. Confidence, quit whitted humor, a smile and a wink- that may get me a date with the man of my dreams- but then he would see my teeth and all chances with him are over before they started. I am not worthy! And it sucks... all bad qualities aside I am quite a catch, but society kills my chances with any man as soon as I compare myself to what it is that men want- I loose.
So apparently insecurity plays a role in my not wanting to fall in love as well. I know I am scared of being hurt, scared of Evan seeing someone else walk away from him. I couldn't handle that again. It saddens me because I am a good mom and would love to have another baby someday. But taking that scenario under consideration. I meet a man fall deeply in love and have a second child. Evan is mine, the new child is ours. There would be favoritism and Evan would think that this man doesn't love him as much as his sibling. I never want Evan to feel emotions like that. To hold resentment towards me for creating life with someone new. So I keep the promise I made myself. I stay alone. I develop crushes on men that are so far out of my league they are unattainable and safe. If I don't have a shot, no one gets hurt. For now I like it that way. I am strong, but not strong enough to handle another departure. It's really too bad, I never thought I would end up alone, I never thought this would be my life. I always dreamed of a white picket fence, a dog, getting married, and having a well respected family with the one I love. The American dream is dead to me now. The closest I come to a picket fence is looking out the window at my neighbors house. The very same thing I used to do as a child- stare out the window at the happy family with a mommy and a daddy hoping someday it would be me. The grass is always greener on the other side, and that is something I have grown to accept. The American dream is over-rated anyway. I don't need a man to fill the void in me, all I need is my Evan. At least that is what I keep telling myself, and that works for a while. Until he does something that should be caught on camera or something so cute you just want to share the moment with someone, and no one is there to share it, that's when me and him is not enough.
That's all I can stand speaking of without getting myself depressed. It is all a vicious cycle and theres no talking to me. I have an excuse for any scenario sent my way, and I am as stubborn as they come. When Evan is grown and off to Harvard Law School (or wherever the little smarty ends up) then I can explore options in romance. That is- if anyone wants me-by then I won't have any teeth left. If there is someone out there for me, he'll still be there when I'm ready. Here's hoping, have a great week everyone!
Monday, April 26, 2010
Sunday, April 25, 2010
The lama dream
For my composition class I got to choose anything I wanted to write about for my final project. Being that someday I want to be a psychologist and I want to specialize in dream theory, I chose dream theory as my topic. I am just so fascinated by the mind, the physiological questions we ask- what is life for?- why do we choose to lie, cheat, steal, or love?
While I was in New York I had this incredibly symbolic dream about a lama. So, I know what someone thinks when they hear that... this girls smoking the good stuff... but you are only half right. ;^) Here's how it went.
The whole dream scenario took place at the plastic factory I worked at. Except everything in the rooms were cleared out, nothing but huge empty rooms. And the back doorstep in reality had a staircase maybe four feet up, in the dream it was a long staircase and it was a long way down. Now these huge empty rooms were filled with people I knew, people I didn't know, my friend Rachel, and the lama...
This was a smoking, drinking, party lama. (Gave me new meaning to the term "party animal") I don't know if anyone else remembers the show with lambchop the puppet, but that is the only way I can describe hismessed up face. His fur was a mangy off white color and in general he looked ragged. I found myself staring at him throughout the party wondering why NO ONE cared that he was a lama!? Every time I was looking at him he would shoot looks back at me, and it scared me. His face was the craziest thing, indescribable- unless you are on a bad acid trip looking at lambchop.
It was fun at first. Everyone was drinking, smoking, playing card games (the lama too). I was socializing but for the most part found myself sitting against the back wall, smoking and watching for Rachel. Rachel kept looking over at me with this strange look on her face, each time holding up her index finger saying "I'll be right back" and running off to get in fist fights with everyone at the party! Then she would come back sit with me and tell me she won. I never saw her fight just before and after the fights.
As the lama was playing his cards, cigarette hanging from his blackened lips, his evil glance caught Rachel's eye. She jumped up and started to fight the lama. Only this time I was no longer sitting on the back burner- I was fighting the lama too! This was theatrical fighting at its best. Slow motion cracks to the jaw. Ganging up on the lama with Rachel kicking the thing while it was on the ground. But the Lama didn't go down easy. Not only was this a party lama it was a fighting lama as well. The battle wore on, all three parties growing weary. Finally Rachel glanced over to me, then motion her eyes towards the door. THE STAIRS! I ran and opened the door and Rachel ran for the lama, but the bastard was quick- caught Rachel off guard and threw her to the wall. With Rachel knocked out it was up to me. I stood in the door and faced the evil lama who was readying his charge. I moved ever so gingerly closer to him and like the speed of light turned his charge against him. One swift side step and he tumbled out to the balcony, just escaping a very long fall. The fight was on *theatrics again* but with a left hook , then right, uppercut. In slow motion the lama fell backwards. Down those long steps. As I watched I was swept up in a wave of sadness. I watched him fall to his death yet it saddened me? I backed away and went back to find Rachel and tell her we won, but Rachel was gone. Everyone was. No more party just empty rooms. I sat back where I sat the whole night and lit a cigarette- strangely I was defeated somehow and all alone. That's when I woke up...
There is obvious symbolism here. I have analyzed it over and over in my head and here is what I have come up with. I hated New York I missed everyone that I knew. Rachel was my best friend before I moved to New York so I most likely missed her the most, hence her leading role. My straying towards the wall symbolic of feeling cut off from my surroundings. And the explanation you have all been waiting for.... the lama has to be Jim (the sperm doner). He needed to be cut off from my life and no one could do that but me. The sadness I felt watching him go, the empty rooms. The fear of the look in his eye. All hold symbolism towards the person I hate but cannot resent. This was a perfect example of my sub-conscious mind telling me to run like hell. I was the one who chose to ignore that dream- if I had listened to my sub-conscious (and everyone else) my life may be a very different thing right now. This is what I would like to base my paper on, what is it our sub-conscious is trying to tell us using our dreams? This is the first paper I have written in school that I am really enjoying! I can't wait to explore it further and once I have the final project I will post it here for you all to see!
Thanks to you all for taking the time to read my blog! =^) That's all for now!
While I was in New York I had this incredibly symbolic dream about a lama. So, I know what someone thinks when they hear that... this girls smoking the good stuff... but you are only half right. ;^) Here's how it went.
The whole dream scenario took place at the plastic factory I worked at. Except everything in the rooms were cleared out, nothing but huge empty rooms. And the back doorstep in reality had a staircase maybe four feet up, in the dream it was a long staircase and it was a long way down. Now these huge empty rooms were filled with people I knew, people I didn't know, my friend Rachel, and the lama...
This was a smoking, drinking, party lama. (Gave me new meaning to the term "party animal") I don't know if anyone else remembers the show with lambchop the puppet, but that is the only way I can describe hismessed up face. His fur was a mangy off white color and in general he looked ragged. I found myself staring at him throughout the party wondering why NO ONE cared that he was a lama!? Every time I was looking at him he would shoot looks back at me, and it scared me. His face was the craziest thing, indescribable- unless you are on a bad acid trip looking at lambchop.
It was fun at first. Everyone was drinking, smoking, playing card games (the lama too). I was socializing but for the most part found myself sitting against the back wall, smoking and watching for Rachel. Rachel kept looking over at me with this strange look on her face, each time holding up her index finger saying "I'll be right back" and running off to get in fist fights with everyone at the party! Then she would come back sit with me and tell me she won. I never saw her fight just before and after the fights.
As the lama was playing his cards, cigarette hanging from his blackened lips, his evil glance caught Rachel's eye. She jumped up and started to fight the lama. Only this time I was no longer sitting on the back burner- I was fighting the lama too! This was theatrical fighting at its best. Slow motion cracks to the jaw. Ganging up on the lama with Rachel kicking the thing while it was on the ground. But the Lama didn't go down easy. Not only was this a party lama it was a fighting lama as well. The battle wore on, all three parties growing weary. Finally Rachel glanced over to me, then motion her eyes towards the door. THE STAIRS! I ran and opened the door and Rachel ran for the lama, but the bastard was quick- caught Rachel off guard and threw her to the wall. With Rachel knocked out it was up to me. I stood in the door and faced the evil lama who was readying his charge. I moved ever so gingerly closer to him and like the speed of light turned his charge against him. One swift side step and he tumbled out to the balcony, just escaping a very long fall. The fight was on *theatrics again* but with a left hook , then right, uppercut. In slow motion the lama fell backwards. Down those long steps. As I watched I was swept up in a wave of sadness. I watched him fall to his death yet it saddened me? I backed away and went back to find Rachel and tell her we won, but Rachel was gone. Everyone was. No more party just empty rooms. I sat back where I sat the whole night and lit a cigarette- strangely I was defeated somehow and all alone. That's when I woke up...
There is obvious symbolism here. I have analyzed it over and over in my head and here is what I have come up with. I hated New York I missed everyone that I knew. Rachel was my best friend before I moved to New York so I most likely missed her the most, hence her leading role. My straying towards the wall symbolic of feeling cut off from my surroundings. And the explanation you have all been waiting for.... the lama has to be Jim (the sperm doner). He needed to be cut off from my life and no one could do that but me. The sadness I felt watching him go, the empty rooms. The fear of the look in his eye. All hold symbolism towards the person I hate but cannot resent. This was a perfect example of my sub-conscious mind telling me to run like hell. I was the one who chose to ignore that dream- if I had listened to my sub-conscious (and everyone else) my life may be a very different thing right now. This is what I would like to base my paper on, what is it our sub-conscious is trying to tell us using our dreams? This is the first paper I have written in school that I am really enjoying! I can't wait to explore it further and once I have the final project I will post it here for you all to see!
Thanks to you all for taking the time to read my blog! =^) That's all for now!
Monday, April 19, 2010
The never ending battle...
I blame one person for the downfall of my beautiful smile (my baby daddy)... Maybe that is unfair of me but every time I look at my rotting teeth in the mirror I curse his name! It was because of him that I was so malnourished in the beginning of my pregnancy and I know that is where my dental concerns started. When the teeth first started to rot that is.
I lost two more teeth this week- now just the front and bottom left teeth are still in my face. I just found out that my health insurance does cover partial dentures so at least I know that I will be able to chew again someday. 24 and considering dentures!? How does this happen? My smile was always my pride and joy. My weight has been an ongoing battle but through all the problems in finding someone to love a "fat kid" I always had my pretty smile to fall back on. (to flirt with) Now that is gone, I am so self conscious about my teeth that I find myself inventing new ways to smile without showing my teeth. I am always smiling with my eyes I guess...
If I could only hit the lottery I could afford those dental implants and not have to worry about this anymore, but alas I am a struggling single mom who sometimes can't afford the next package of diapers... let alone drop 1,000's of dollars on a new smile. I have heard that the dental implants are much cheaper in Florida but even then I am sure it's quite expensive and I would never be able to afford it.
I had to wait a month to get this infected tooth pulled and the pain was indescribable. I am so relieved to not feel pain shooting through my temple anymore but I will miss being able to eat steak! Because of the wait I failed to mention to the surgeon that I was coming down with an ear infection- I was not about to hurt for another month- and when I woke up from the anesthesia the infection was so bad in my ear it started to affect my balance and hearing. I am still all blocked up but luckily the antibiotics kicked the pain I was feeling. But that first night dealing with the ear pain on top of the pain of loosing two teeth... *shivers* it was not a good night! Now it is just plain annoying and it feels like someone stuffed my ear with cotton balls! Honestly man, it never ends in my world!
And now that I am feeling better Evan is getting sick...
On a happy note, my mother went to court for the restraining order and she WON!!! The judge granted it for a whole year so at least that shitty aspect of my life is really over! Hard to believe but its true... no more miserable man coming home and making my life hell every night. The only problem here is this... before I had no reason to smile now I have hundreds and hiding my teeth is getting harder to do! :)
That's all for now ladies and gentlemen, have a lovely week!
I lost two more teeth this week- now just the front and bottom left teeth are still in my face. I just found out that my health insurance does cover partial dentures so at least I know that I will be able to chew again someday. 24 and considering dentures!? How does this happen? My smile was always my pride and joy. My weight has been an ongoing battle but through all the problems in finding someone to love a "fat kid" I always had my pretty smile to fall back on. (to flirt with) Now that is gone, I am so self conscious about my teeth that I find myself inventing new ways to smile without showing my teeth. I am always smiling with my eyes I guess...
If I could only hit the lottery I could afford those dental implants and not have to worry about this anymore, but alas I am a struggling single mom who sometimes can't afford the next package of diapers... let alone drop 1,000's of dollars on a new smile. I have heard that the dental implants are much cheaper in Florida but even then I am sure it's quite expensive and I would never be able to afford it.
I had to wait a month to get this infected tooth pulled and the pain was indescribable. I am so relieved to not feel pain shooting through my temple anymore but I will miss being able to eat steak! Because of the wait I failed to mention to the surgeon that I was coming down with an ear infection- I was not about to hurt for another month- and when I woke up from the anesthesia the infection was so bad in my ear it started to affect my balance and hearing. I am still all blocked up but luckily the antibiotics kicked the pain I was feeling. But that first night dealing with the ear pain on top of the pain of loosing two teeth... *shivers* it was not a good night! Now it is just plain annoying and it feels like someone stuffed my ear with cotton balls! Honestly man, it never ends in my world!
And now that I am feeling better Evan is getting sick...
On a happy note, my mother went to court for the restraining order and she WON!!! The judge granted it for a whole year so at least that shitty aspect of my life is really over! Hard to believe but its true... no more miserable man coming home and making my life hell every night. The only problem here is this... before I had no reason to smile now I have hundreds and hiding my teeth is getting harder to do! :)
That's all for now ladies and gentlemen, have a lovely week!
Monday, April 5, 2010
FINALLY!!!!!!
Ladies and Gentlemen... Elvis has left the building!
Not that Clam deserves to be compared to an icon but it seemed appropriate. He is finally gone. My mother went to the courthouse this morning and took out a restraining order. So for the next ten days at least(hopefully forever) I will not have to see that ugly face. I hope she follows through on this, I hope he is really out of my son's life and my own. I think once she sees how different it is here, how happy we can be without him, how we are all the financial support she needs, then she will feel like a fool for staying as long as she did. It may not be over but it is certainly a step toward a brighter future! :)
Today was just the best day. Evan was the cutest, best behaved toddler I know. The weather was gorgeous. We played outside for hours and then I even walked the pond with my cousin Kristen and her dog. It was the perfect day off and the whole time there was no worries or stressing out that he would come home and ruin my bliss. Now that he is gone I can focus on being the best mom/worker/student I can be. And without the constant demeaning maybe I can even start to take back the self respect I lost when the sperm doner broke me. (I jumped from one bad relationship directly into my mothers... not exactly the best for someone with pre-existing self esteem issues.)
So right now I revel in this sensation and I look forward with high hopes. The battle is over and I finally won.
Not that Clam deserves to be compared to an icon but it seemed appropriate. He is finally gone. My mother went to the courthouse this morning and took out a restraining order. So for the next ten days at least(hopefully forever) I will not have to see that ugly face. I hope she follows through on this, I hope he is really out of my son's life and my own. I think once she sees how different it is here, how happy we can be without him, how we are all the financial support she needs, then she will feel like a fool for staying as long as she did. It may not be over but it is certainly a step toward a brighter future! :)
Today was just the best day. Evan was the cutest, best behaved toddler I know. The weather was gorgeous. We played outside for hours and then I even walked the pond with my cousin Kristen and her dog. It was the perfect day off and the whole time there was no worries or stressing out that he would come home and ruin my bliss. Now that he is gone I can focus on being the best mom/worker/student I can be. And without the constant demeaning maybe I can even start to take back the self respect I lost when the sperm doner broke me. (I jumped from one bad relationship directly into my mothers... not exactly the best for someone with pre-existing self esteem issues.)
So right now I revel in this sensation and I look forward with high hopes. The battle is over and I finally won.
Sunday, April 4, 2010
Home?
Those of you who know me are MUST be sick of hearing about my home life. I have had more posts on facebook about my living arrangement than I could even count. It is the same thing day after day and even I have grown tired of my constant complaining. Perhaps a new group of strangers to listen to my ranting will be at the very least- therapeutic?
In a nutshell, I am currently living with my mother and her drunk excuse of a husband. The apartment is small, cramped, we share one bedroom with my brother, and her husband hates me. I can't afford to leave (even working 50 hours a week) and I have no where left to go. What bothers me most is my mothers complete lack of back bone. She lets it happen and she is the only person who can make him leave. His only financial responsibility in this house is half the rent. I pay $50 a week and buy all the food. But when the first of the month rolls around... I am a free loading, fat, lazy, cunt who does NOTHING but mooch off my mother. (Mind you, any of this can be said to me directly in front of my son, he has no boundaries with his use of bad English) Every month.
Lately it seems my son is following in Clam's footsteps. When he is here all Evan says to me is "I hate you" or "shut up" or he just hits me. My son isn't even three years old. Obviously this stems from the constant abuse he witnesses from my mothers husband (Clam). Even the landlord wants him out, she has been witness to the abuse. Be it the sounds of screaming with a crying baby on my hip, police cars pulling up, or me leaving at strange times of the night with my son. She has seen it all. All I want is for him to leave (or get hit by a truck)- so that the little time I have to spend with my son on those rare days off can be drama free, and my son won't be telling me how much he hates me. When it is just me and Evan he is a different child. He loves me so much. I don't have to yell at him or put him on time outs. He laughs and we play and all is right with my world. Now that I work constantly I never get that time with him. I feel like he is being ruined and there is nothing I can do to stop it. I feel worse than trapped... I feel defeated. I am not good enough to get us out of here, therefor my beautiful, happy, outgoing son quivers at even the slightest raise of a mans voice. He has to watch his mommy cry because she feels that helpless. This situation is affecting him and my only option is to quit my job and school, go back on welfare and go to a homeless shelter. Or I stay here and watch my beautiful boy grow thinking this is how a woman is treated. Not like there is a father around that can show him otherwise (or even a boyfriend for that matter). I am doing good (really good) for the first time in a long time. Do I throw that all away to go someplace where I could get robbed or beat up or who knows? Only to wait to get into a housing authority and live in poverty for the rest of my life. Where is the pride in that?
Today thoughts of suicide occurred to me. I am that depressed- but at least I hide it well. So what if I mask it in different ways? I feel its a coping mechanism. People I work with think I'm the happiest person (if they only knew), my mother thinks I am just a bitch (as do the rest of my siblings and what have you) but the truth is I feel so defeated and worthless that I am finding it hard to get myself out of bed in the morning. I have been broken so many times I'm starting to wonder when will I actually break. No one has ever stopped to wonder why all this attitude or why I am "always" smiling at work. Truth is I'm not happy or angry but extremely sad and lonely. If I wiped that smile off my face and let the world see what was really behind my eyes I wouldn't have a job, and my family would have me committed. So I write it down then burn the pages later. I never read what I write about when I am that down. I did once and it scared me.
I am on so many waiting lists for housing assistance and they are all really long. It takes ten years to obtain a section 8 voucher (what I really want) and housing authorities suck. The only way you can get into one of those is another waiting game (and that's if you can even get onto the waiting list). I do all the right things but the right things don't seem to come back around. Everyone keeps telling me to wait- once I am done with school I will be better but my biggest concern with that- controlling my mind and horrid thoughts for another few years. I have been on the list for section 8 for three years in seven I very well may not even need it. I need the help now but I guess so does everyone else. So I wait and wait and wait. And I delve deeper into this depression and watch as my son gets fucked up by someone who isn't me. I mean- I thought the parent was the one responsible for the fucking up of the child?? (There's that cynical sense of humor you'll get used to it) I don't know- I just needed to rant to some strangers and get it all off my chest before this living situation eats me alive.
Don't read too much into this, it has just been a long and rough day... Happy thoughts coming soon :)
~Erica~
In a nutshell, I am currently living with my mother and her drunk excuse of a husband. The apartment is small, cramped, we share one bedroom with my brother, and her husband hates me. I can't afford to leave (even working 50 hours a week) and I have no where left to go. What bothers me most is my mothers complete lack of back bone. She lets it happen and she is the only person who can make him leave. His only financial responsibility in this house is half the rent. I pay $50 a week and buy all the food. But when the first of the month rolls around... I am a free loading, fat, lazy, cunt who does NOTHING but mooch off my mother. (Mind you, any of this can be said to me directly in front of my son, he has no boundaries with his use of bad English) Every month.
Lately it seems my son is following in Clam's footsteps. When he is here all Evan says to me is "I hate you" or "shut up" or he just hits me. My son isn't even three years old. Obviously this stems from the constant abuse he witnesses from my mothers husband (Clam). Even the landlord wants him out, she has been witness to the abuse. Be it the sounds of screaming with a crying baby on my hip, police cars pulling up, or me leaving at strange times of the night with my son. She has seen it all. All I want is for him to leave (or get hit by a truck)- so that the little time I have to spend with my son on those rare days off can be drama free, and my son won't be telling me how much he hates me. When it is just me and Evan he is a different child. He loves me so much. I don't have to yell at him or put him on time outs. He laughs and we play and all is right with my world. Now that I work constantly I never get that time with him. I feel like he is being ruined and there is nothing I can do to stop it. I feel worse than trapped... I feel defeated. I am not good enough to get us out of here, therefor my beautiful, happy, outgoing son quivers at even the slightest raise of a mans voice. He has to watch his mommy cry because she feels that helpless. This situation is affecting him and my only option is to quit my job and school, go back on welfare and go to a homeless shelter. Or I stay here and watch my beautiful boy grow thinking this is how a woman is treated. Not like there is a father around that can show him otherwise (or even a boyfriend for that matter). I am doing good (really good) for the first time in a long time. Do I throw that all away to go someplace where I could get robbed or beat up or who knows? Only to wait to get into a housing authority and live in poverty for the rest of my life. Where is the pride in that?
Today thoughts of suicide occurred to me. I am that depressed- but at least I hide it well. So what if I mask it in different ways? I feel its a coping mechanism. People I work with think I'm the happiest person (if they only knew), my mother thinks I am just a bitch (as do the rest of my siblings and what have you) but the truth is I feel so defeated and worthless that I am finding it hard to get myself out of bed in the morning. I have been broken so many times I'm starting to wonder when will I actually break. No one has ever stopped to wonder why all this attitude or why I am "always" smiling at work. Truth is I'm not happy or angry but extremely sad and lonely. If I wiped that smile off my face and let the world see what was really behind my eyes I wouldn't have a job, and my family would have me committed. So I write it down then burn the pages later. I never read what I write about when I am that down. I did once and it scared me.
I am on so many waiting lists for housing assistance and they are all really long. It takes ten years to obtain a section 8 voucher (what I really want) and housing authorities suck. The only way you can get into one of those is another waiting game (and that's if you can even get onto the waiting list). I do all the right things but the right things don't seem to come back around. Everyone keeps telling me to wait- once I am done with school I will be better but my biggest concern with that- controlling my mind and horrid thoughts for another few years. I have been on the list for section 8 for three years in seven I very well may not even need it. I need the help now but I guess so does everyone else. So I wait and wait and wait. And I delve deeper into this depression and watch as my son gets fucked up by someone who isn't me. I mean- I thought the parent was the one responsible for the fucking up of the child?? (There's that cynical sense of humor you'll get used to it) I don't know- I just needed to rant to some strangers and get it all off my chest before this living situation eats me alive.
Don't read too much into this, it has just been a long and rough day... Happy thoughts coming soon :)
~Erica~
Sunday, March 28, 2010
Breaking the Ice...
Hello everyone and welcome to the wonderful yet wacky mind of a single mom. I must warn you first and foremost I am highly opinionated and hard headed. You would be too if you knew my life. Here on this blog I will share with you all my honest life stories (and lessons) and so much more. I named my blog life as a single mom so I feel it only appropriate to explain to you how I got there. There are people who make assumptions out there. A single woman with a baby is occasionally assumed to be promiscuous. I know first hand there are plenty of reasons for a woman to be raisng a child (or children) on her own. Promiscuity has nothing to do with my situation. Nor was promiscuity present when my mother raised three children on her own. Be very careful when jumping to conclusions...
I was in a relationship with a man for three years. (off and on) He didn't treat me well. There were traces of physical abuse but mostly it was emotional. Of couse, I loved him and thought I could change him. We were engaged and living in upstate New York when I found out I was pregnant with my son. After the news things between us didn't get any better. We had very little money and I wasn't getting the nutrition I needed for the baby so I ended up coming back to Massachusetts to stay with his mother and father. The plan was that he would find a job- work his ass off and find us an apartment out there, then he would send for me.
Little did he know I never had any intention of returning to New York. The abuse was at its worst while I was in there and I missed my family. I didn't want to be somewhere where I knew no one- but him- when I brought a baby into the world. I did well for a while, worked full time at CVS through my pregnancy. I eventually told him my plan and he (having trouble with Massachusetts Law Enforcement) didn't want to come back to mass and square his name. But when I found out he cheated on me (again) I told him to stay there and never come back. Well thats when he came back, went to court did about 45 days in jail and claimed he was going to clean his life up and be a good man for his future wife and son. After he got out it seemed he had changed. I ended up leaving his parents house and went to my mothers until we could find a place of our own. He got a full time job at a moving company. He would have to take long road trips and be away my whole pregnancy. But the money was great and when the time came he would have even had paturnity leave. I thought things were going great, we talked on the phone all the time. When we saw eachother he was so romantic and would constantly tell me how much he wanted to be a daddy.
In about my seventh month of pregnancy I took a cab to work. I was on the phone with him, went to starbucks to get a bite to eat. Then I went to work, my usual routine- put my stuff in the backroom, put on my ugly blue CVS shirt, hung up the phone, then headed for the occupied bathroom. Mind you- I was seven months pregnant and really had to pee, and when I was standing there it felt like I peed myself a little. So I decided I couldn't wait any longer and went into the mens room. I sat down, cell phone still in hand, and when I looked down all I saw was red...
My heart stopped and I panicked. I had a thyroid condition and was considered a high risk pregnancy but everything had seemed fine. I thought I was loosing my son. I called 911 on the CVS phone because I was too panicked to realize my cell phone was in my hand. Waiting for the ambulance I tried calling him, my mom, him, my mom. No one was answering. In the ambulance the EMT actually said to me, "don't panic if you can't hear the heartbeat"... I will never forget that ride or the fact that I did it alone. As it turned out I had what you would call placenta previa. My placenta was low lined my entire pregnancy and I guess it ripped. The doctor gave me medicine to stop me from going into labor, then these terrible steroid shots in the butt just in case the medicine didn't work. (In infants the lungs take the longest to develop and the steroids just speed up the process.) It was a very traumatic experience for me, and my baby's father seemed genuinely concerned. He got his work to fly him home and his partner lent him his truck so that he could come and see me. I was in the hospital for four days total and he didn't make it back until my last night there. He held me the whole time and told me it was going to be ok. But then he said he had to work in the morning and he was just going to drive there and sleep in the parking lot.
I didn't want him to go and I didn't understand why he wouldn't want to stay there with me. I couldn't understand how he could hear the baby hiccup on ultrasound and want to leave me for even a second after this close call. I cried my eyes out but eventually I agreed he would go there work a few hours and when he got my call he would come and pick me up and take care of me.
He never came back.
Here's the clencher... Rememeber the partner who lent him the truck? Well he and his wife had a daughter together and lived in New Hampshire. That is where my baby's father went after he left the hospital and that is where he stayed. The woman left her first born daughter to run off with him. The two of them are (to the best of my knowledge) now living somewhere in Oklahoma with a daughter of their own and I think one on the way.
I know that I am better off without him but it doesn't change the pain that came from it all. The worst part is as much as I want to hate him I can't- he gave me the best gift in the whole world. I am a stronger woman now because of what he did, but I won't be that strong the day my son asks me where his father is. I don't even know where to start explaining all this to him.
So before you assume someone who is a single mother is a "slut"- take a step back... there are a million stories out there like mine. Single mothers and fathers tossed aside like a bag of trash. The reasons for this I could not tell you. I look into my sons eyes and know I will never leave, and I will never know how he did.
I was in a relationship with a man for three years. (off and on) He didn't treat me well. There were traces of physical abuse but mostly it was emotional. Of couse, I loved him and thought I could change him. We were engaged and living in upstate New York when I found out I was pregnant with my son. After the news things between us didn't get any better. We had very little money and I wasn't getting the nutrition I needed for the baby so I ended up coming back to Massachusetts to stay with his mother and father. The plan was that he would find a job- work his ass off and find us an apartment out there, then he would send for me.
Little did he know I never had any intention of returning to New York. The abuse was at its worst while I was in there and I missed my family. I didn't want to be somewhere where I knew no one- but him- when I brought a baby into the world. I did well for a while, worked full time at CVS through my pregnancy. I eventually told him my plan and he (having trouble with Massachusetts Law Enforcement) didn't want to come back to mass and square his name. But when I found out he cheated on me (again) I told him to stay there and never come back. Well thats when he came back, went to court did about 45 days in jail and claimed he was going to clean his life up and be a good man for his future wife and son. After he got out it seemed he had changed. I ended up leaving his parents house and went to my mothers until we could find a place of our own. He got a full time job at a moving company. He would have to take long road trips and be away my whole pregnancy. But the money was great and when the time came he would have even had paturnity leave. I thought things were going great, we talked on the phone all the time. When we saw eachother he was so romantic and would constantly tell me how much he wanted to be a daddy.
In about my seventh month of pregnancy I took a cab to work. I was on the phone with him, went to starbucks to get a bite to eat. Then I went to work, my usual routine- put my stuff in the backroom, put on my ugly blue CVS shirt, hung up the phone, then headed for the occupied bathroom. Mind you- I was seven months pregnant and really had to pee, and when I was standing there it felt like I peed myself a little. So I decided I couldn't wait any longer and went into the mens room. I sat down, cell phone still in hand, and when I looked down all I saw was red...
My heart stopped and I panicked. I had a thyroid condition and was considered a high risk pregnancy but everything had seemed fine. I thought I was loosing my son. I called 911 on the CVS phone because I was too panicked to realize my cell phone was in my hand. Waiting for the ambulance I tried calling him, my mom, him, my mom. No one was answering. In the ambulance the EMT actually said to me, "don't panic if you can't hear the heartbeat"... I will never forget that ride or the fact that I did it alone. As it turned out I had what you would call placenta previa. My placenta was low lined my entire pregnancy and I guess it ripped. The doctor gave me medicine to stop me from going into labor, then these terrible steroid shots in the butt just in case the medicine didn't work. (In infants the lungs take the longest to develop and the steroids just speed up the process.) It was a very traumatic experience for me, and my baby's father seemed genuinely concerned. He got his work to fly him home and his partner lent him his truck so that he could come and see me. I was in the hospital for four days total and he didn't make it back until my last night there. He held me the whole time and told me it was going to be ok. But then he said he had to work in the morning and he was just going to drive there and sleep in the parking lot.
I didn't want him to go and I didn't understand why he wouldn't want to stay there with me. I couldn't understand how he could hear the baby hiccup on ultrasound and want to leave me for even a second after this close call. I cried my eyes out but eventually I agreed he would go there work a few hours and when he got my call he would come and pick me up and take care of me.
He never came back.
Here's the clencher... Rememeber the partner who lent him the truck? Well he and his wife had a daughter together and lived in New Hampshire. That is where my baby's father went after he left the hospital and that is where he stayed. The woman left her first born daughter to run off with him. The two of them are (to the best of my knowledge) now living somewhere in Oklahoma with a daughter of their own and I think one on the way.
I know that I am better off without him but it doesn't change the pain that came from it all. The worst part is as much as I want to hate him I can't- he gave me the best gift in the whole world. I am a stronger woman now because of what he did, but I won't be that strong the day my son asks me where his father is. I don't even know where to start explaining all this to him.
So before you assume someone who is a single mother is a "slut"- take a step back... there are a million stories out there like mine. Single mothers and fathers tossed aside like a bag of trash. The reasons for this I could not tell you. I look into my sons eyes and know I will never leave, and I will never know how he did.
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