Tag Archives: Strength

A Small Minded World

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Wow, I feel like it has been a lifetime since I last blogged. It was nice waking up today and finding that my 6 day old son slept through the night. Well actually he woke up twice after I decided to go to bed (just after midnight after doing mommy stuff.) Technically sleeping through the night for a baby is five uninterrupted hours of sleep. My little man made it four hours in the last stretch. Just shy of “through the night” but when you’re waking up at a time you’re normally just falling asleep, it’s a win! Normally I’m handing my son off to my mother at about five or six am tears falling down my face as she sooths him just long enough so I can get the usual two hours of sleep and not shove my cousin out of the way of her head-filled oven to make room for me. Nope, tonight I laid down, sure he would start screaming the second I got comfortable, as usual. So this took longer than usual to accomplish until I just fell asleep, comfort or no comfort. Once you give birth, new mother’s-to-be, you find you can fall asleep anywhere, anytime, and in any position. I do not count on this being his usual thing, I wish it would though, but it is unlikely. I am eternally thankful though that he acknowledged mommy’s exhaustion and was willing to give her a break.

Last night, doing my “mommy things” of course included Facebooking while working on a final paper for this semester. While allowing myself the occasional distraction, the following post appeared in my news feed. (Names have been blacked out and pictures deleted for privacy.) But it occurred to me since the birth of my son exactly how small minded the world we live in is. I had forgotten that although MY world had changed THE world hadn’t. For the first time since I brought DC home I felt the pain of what my son will feel in the most difficult of times.

A Friend’s Post
Soo many people bitch about these girl getting pregnant ,and for what?? It’s not you having to raise the baby is it ? Noo ,I don’t think so. In other words: shut the fuck up and live YOUR life instead of complaining about someone else’s situation.
 
  • 9 people like this.
  • Anna Hunter Who is griping about who getting pregnant? I’d tell them, “too little, too late.” What’s done is done, they can get over it.
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    Someone Else You should have your own house, career, and be married. Before you even think about having children. Call me old fashion, I’m not going to have kids till I have all that.
     via mobile · Like · 1
  • Anna Hunter Everyone’s situation is different.
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    Someone Else Use a condom and birth control. Pregnancy is 100% preventable.
    9 hours ago via mobile · Like · 1
  • Anna Hunter Again, you may refer back to my previous comment. If you aren’t ready for children then that’s you, you don’t see me passing judgment. But just keep in mind that not everyone can live the ideal lifestyle that they dream of. God has different plans for everyone but in the end it always works out.
    9 hours ago· Like · 1
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    Someone Else Teenagers are not ready to be parents!! They are KIDS!
    9 hours ago via mobile · Like
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    Someone Else And people wonder why this world is going  down to shit! People are reproducing like damn chickens. Kids are having kids.
    9 hours ago via mobile · Like · 1
  • Anna Hunter I agree that they aren’t ready and I don’t encourage them to go out and knock themselves up but ultimately it comes down to the parents. How did they raise their children? Did they properly educate them on the responsibilities of raising a child and what it means to be a parent? Are they EVEN involved? There are so many factors to be taken into consideration that it’s unfair to solely blame the teenager. Also would have helped if you were a little more specific in exactly what demographic you were talking about.
    9 hours ago · Like · 1
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    Someone Else are most of these kids that are pregnant  was it planned!? NO!
    9 hours ago via mobile · Like
  • Anna Hunter I’m not saying they were. But honestly you’d be surprised to find how many of them deliberately get pregnant.
    9 hours ago · Like

The entire conversation itself did not bother me. Although I am surprising myself everyday at every turn. I wanted to desperately call her out on her ignorance and small minded judgments and emphasize to her that she is NOT better than those around her. But I didn’t, instead I tried to reason with her and educate her on the reality of living in an imperfect world. But that didn’t get to me either. It was Someone Else’s very first comment. “You should have your own house, career, and be married. Before you even think about having children.”

It wasn’t that it even hurt ME. It was then I realized that for as long as I am unmarried, living with my parents, and still working to establish my career, it will DC who will pay for my hardships and my poor decision making. He will perhaps get more judgment than I will, maybe he wont but I know how to handle it. I had to walk away from my computer and place myself in front of my son and stroked his cheek. In that moment I did not care if I woke him, I needed him to know how much I love him. That no matter what I will ALWAYS fight for him.

We live in a small minded world where at every turn we are being judged.

Know this, Someone Else, I do not own my own house, I do not yet have a career (and I’m sure it won’t matter to you that I am a full time student, working towards having one,) and I am not married. But I would not change a damn thing if that change meant that I wouldn’t have my beautiful son. He saved my life and has made me a better person. Before he came along, that conversation would have gone an entirely different direction and would not have been as kind as it was or put forth the effort to try to view things from your perspective (which I have started to do because of my son.) I would have shown anger at your ignorance and your poor choice in thinking that the way someone else lives their life is ANY of your business. Now, because of my son, who is born out of wedlock, instead I pity you and I pray that one day you can find God. You may think you already have but if that were the case he would have shown you that your way of thinking is only harmful to yourself and should you continue to pass judgment on those around you, it will not be long before you find yourself judged. When that happens I cannot say the judge will be as forgiving or understanding or so willing to try to put themselves in your shoes. Think before you speak.

A quick note to my son:

This world is not so harsh, but the same cannot be said for those that live in it. I hope to teach you that the way I once carried myself and lived my life was not ideal and that you can learn from that. I also hope to teach you the tolerance I showed this young lady and continue to show those I walk past in life. Let mommy carry the burdens of reality as you learn right from wrong. Pass your heartache on to me when you feel doubt. Let mommy shed those tears for you to allow your face to remain dry and your heart whole. I don’t care what anyone says, I would not trade you for the world. I love you with all my heart, more than you could ever imagine and will never love another the way I love you. Stay strong.

In Weakness We Find Strength

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“I’m doing everything I can.” I suppose everything he can is never going to the doctors appointments he had promised to attend, “I’ll go to every single one,” giving away money that was meant for his children’s mouths to someone in need (by someone in need I mean his drug habit,) putting a pregnant woman (make that two) through hell and somehow, amazingly, not causing a miscarriage, playing daddy to a kid he has not fathered, trying to be the “playa,” promising to be at his son’s birth and going on about how his vacation is saved up for when he arrives then two weeks prior to the due date says, “I’m not taking off work, WE need the money.” Isn’t that what vacation time does? I want to scream at him, “VACATION PAYS YOU TO TAKE TIME OFF YOU LYING MORON!” But instead I sit and smile and nod. I’m not going to see any of that money until child support forces it from him. I think I may need an appointment with my therapist after all. Just one more. Although I do not communicate with Mr. Flip-flop beyond what I need I just can’t wrap my head around him. I feel no matter how much I regurgitate my frustration through blog it isn’t enough, I should see my therapist before I slam my head through this wall in my head. He’s doing everything he can??? What exactly is that? What has he’s been doing? What does that mean?

The above was written a few days ago. But the more I wrote, the less I could stand to listen to myself. How will my readers bare it if I can’t bare it myself? These last few days have been rough so I have swallowed my pride and gathered my strength and contacted my therapist requesting an appointment since writing seems to be doing very little recently. But I must find strength within the weakness, if for no one else than for my son.

There is no room to be numb anymore. Not in my new life. This life is no longer about me. Those who have hurt me or broke my heart is now irrelevant. Who lied about what no longer matters. Father’s who are not up to par and lost lovers are to be a thing of the past. I must remember to put my son first and foremost above all others, I have myself to rely on and my army of friends and always growing family. I do not need anyone else. When I lack the ability to dig through the weakness for my strength I have my soldiers, including our new recruit, Ms. Mommy, along with DC’s own battle buddy, AE.

That, in itself, gives me strength. In times when I cannot comfort my son, when this all hurts the most, he has his sibling to give him strength and love. Two children brought together by unfortunate circumstances and finding the best of friends in each other. We will all overcome this and we will allow this to make us stronger. Meanwhile, when we find ourselves between the rock and hard place, we all have each other for support and encouragement.

Our own, unique family, different but in no way broken or dysfunctional.

A Graduation of Sorts

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Unless you have read my About page, many of you are unaware that I have been seeing a psychologist for quite some time now. I do not hold it against you that you all do not know this about me, it hasn’t been something that I have been entirely forthcoming about. It has been a difficult road these last ten months but I have finally left the bumpy, gravel road and hit smooth, even pavement.

I went to seek help because of a traumatic event that occurred in my life in February which I finally opened up about and discussed in A Delusionary Love Story: The Conclusion. After this event happened I had no intention of seeing anyone or talking to anyone about it. My plan for getting over it was going on with my life as though it never happened. Entirely unhealthy to the max, but I was ignorant to the magnitude of the event and how it would effect my life.

Exactly one month after my life altering experience I turned on one of my best friends like a rapid dog. I cannot explain what triggered my violent outburst. Maybe because it was dark outside and because of my new found fear of the dark my anxiety was heightened (no one knew of this fear because of how ashamed of it I was.) Perhaps it was because I was surrounded by the people I had tried to turn to after the event took place and none of them did anything to help me besides hand me drugs or maybe it was because I knew deep down that none of those same people believed me. I do not know to this day. All I do know is that was the last time I drank liquor and I refuse to touch it again in my life.

I was out at a show with the father of my child (in fact, I believe this was the night he was conceived) and he tried desperately all night to talk me into taking shots with him. Time and time again I refused, completely content with sticking to my cheap, cheap, cheap PBR. It is incredibly cheap beer and my cousin refers to it as “white trash beer” when he orders it but I love it all the same. Probably because it is so cheap. $10 for a 12-pack! who can beat that? As the night pressed on I continued to drink my beer, feeling only a slight buzz but still able to keep my wits. Until Mr. Flip-flop’s friend came up and ordered three jager-bombs; one for himself, Mr. Flip-flop, and one for myself. I initially refused this shot. I knew once I got started on liquor it would be next to impossible to stop me from ordering more shots and would completely interfere with the beer buzz I had going and F. me. up! Unfortunately, I’m a sucker for manners. Flip-flop’s friend was getting offended that I was refusing the shot after he spent the money on it and because I respected him I did not want to hurt his feelings so I caved in. Sure enough, that was not the last shot he bought for us. Surprising myself, though, I limited myself to those two shots. I was incredibly proud of myself but it wasn’t long before the liquor entered my blood system and began to take its toll on me. I thought for sure it would only be a matter of time before I got myself kicked out of this venue. Something that I had started getting in the habit of after February, arguing with security and getting myself thrown out of places. WAY TO GO, me! To my benefit, there were mosh pits at this show, so shoving people and throwing yourself around was not out of the norm.

“You can’t throw me into the mosh! I’ve suffered numerous back injuries and have already had my jaw wired shut twice!” Mr. Flip-flop would shout at me over the music.

“Great, you’re used to pain! GET IN THERE!” I would reply as my inner hulk would unleash itself and I’d throw him into the mosh pit as I jumped around and head-banged in time with the music, pushing him back into the wave of flailing bodies anytime he got near me to get out.

I do not remember much after this. I know we left and started to head back to my friends house where we had met up earlier and I had left my car at.

I remember when we got to her house she was having a small gathering with a few friends and they were playing a board game.

I remember being obnoxious and interfering with their game so they finally gave up and stopped playing.

I remember feeling extremely drunk.

I remember wanting to go home and I couldn’t find my keys.

I remember panicking because I couldn’t find my keys. “I have to go home. I have to go home. I HAVE TO GO HOME NOW!!!!”

I remember being terrified for unknown reasons. I felt like an injured animal stuck in a corner with a predator slowly creeping up on me meaning to cause harm.

I remember taking a walk around the block in hopes of calming down and clearing my head. It didn’t work.

I remember going back in the house to look for my purse again and my friend said, “why don’t you just fucking leave already?” and responding back, “WHAT THE HELL DO YOU THINK I’M TRYING TO DO?”

I remember going back outside and looking into her house through her open front door and seeing her sitting on the couch as she said one thing, I said another. The next thing I know she is flying off the couch, over the coffee table, and nearly made it to the end of the porch as her husband grabbed her by the waist to restrain her. Meanwhile, I flew across the yard and made it to the stairs of her porch before I felt a tug at my waist and found myself spinning away from the house. Mr. Flip-flop had grabbed and restrained me.

I remember flailing my body not unlike earlier that evening except I had more air so I could kick my feet longer. I vaguely remember head-butting him with the back of my head. The only certainty I had that I did head-butt him was a painful knot that appeared the next day.

I remember being released from his grip and running to my car and continuously kicking and punching my car. At this point I only saw red, I only wanted red and the only thing I could think of was, “MORE. PAIN. MORE. PAIN. MORE. PAIN.”

Finally, like a light switch, I could remember where I put my purse and where my keys were. I hid them in Mr. Flip-flop’s truck for safe keeping so I would not have to take it inside the show with me. I was instantly relieved and no longer seeing red and although still thoroughly drunk I can remember more from the moment I realized where my purse was and on.

Everyone tried their best to keep me from leaving because of my inebriated state but as I said earlier, my anxiety was on high alert and I just wanted to get to the safety of my own home. Mr. Flip-flop attempted to block the road ahead of me with his truck, which in hindsight could have possibly been more dangerous than my entire ride home, but I just went around him. He followed me for a while and only added to my anxiety and made my already bad driving even worse.

I am ashamed to say that, that night I hoped a tree or building or road railing or light pole would find its way in my path. I did not want to survive that drive home. That was my lowest moment. Miraculously, I made it home unscathed. At the time, I wasn’t relieved. I was angry that even drunk I couldn’t properly find myself in a horrible accident. There is a small dent in my wall to remind me of the pain I felt that night. I finally fell asleep and the next day I tried to break up with the guy I wasn’t technically dating. “I do not want to see you anymore. I need to be by myself and get myself healthy. I am in a very bad place right now and just need to be alone. Do not contact me again.” He refused to adhere to my wishes. In fact he found out from my friends where I lived and showed up on my door step proclaiming that he loved me. (It would take another four months to get through his head that I was not going to be in a relationship with him.) While he was at my house and we were talking I asked him if we did anything sexual the night before. Yes.

My low feeling dropped even lower. From then on, I remember for months having an uncontrollable anger. A few weeks after my flip-out I discovered I was pregnant and after deciding to keep the baby I knew I had to do something. My anger was getting worse, the heightened emotions from my pregnancy was not helping any and my thoughts of suicide were only getting worse. I entered the deepest depression I would ever, in my life, experience.

I finally spoke with a teacher who referred me to some psychologists she knew well and trusted. That week I contacted one of them and began to see her shortly after. I was not going to bring my child into this world and risk him being in any danger because I could not control my emotions. I was absolutely terrified that I would have another rapid dog night and not care about hurting anyone and in fact WANT to hurt someone. I was terrified that Someone could be my son. I had to protect him from myself while making sure I could wake up to tomorrow.

I started seeing her every other week since June. My first meeting was full of tears, doubt, loss of religion, self-hatred, and self-disgust. As I left today, I walked out with smiles, love for my son as well as myself, rediscovering my relationship with God, confidence, and strength. As of today I have been graduated to an “as-needed” basis. No more appointments. Although I will miss seeing my psychologist and in some ways feel like I have said goodbye to a dear, old friend I am also relieved. I feel a weight lifted off my shoulders. I have finally overcome the darkest moment of my life. I have lost people I thought were friends only to realize I was gaining clarity in my life; I experienced tremendous violation only to be able to share what I went through to help others and to also appreciate the arrival of my son more than if I hadn’t.

If it wasn’t for him I cannot say I would have stopped drinking irresponsibly. I would probably still be on drugs and I never would have reached out for help from a total stranger. My son saved my life and I don’t ever know how I will thank him.

I have graduated to the next step of my life and no longer dread it. Instead, I look forward to it.

I am finally free.