The final straw

I answered the phone and she said her name was Michelle and just like that I was done…..

Things have been off for awhile. Constant meltdowns; jealously and anger have come up in the most awkward and unsettling moments. All, I knew was this felt familiar, this was a situation I’ve been put in before.

I  worried maybe it was my anxiety or my past trauma causing me to feel uneasy.  But it wasn’t.  My intuition over the last few years had just grown stronger.

It so hard to understand why someone would enter a marriage knowing they are not committed to being faithful.  It’s also hard to let go of something you love so deeply.

These are the two things I’ve been faced with over the last two days.  Like I said internally I’m done.  I’m scared to walk away from something I thought was supposed to be forever.  I’m also scared of all the unknowns.  The only thing I know right now is besides not having honesty in my marriage and a supportive husband I do have a tribe of women who are willing to surround and support me as I walk through this.

Messy Jessy

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Long walks down the Isle’s at Target

Just kidding…. I hate Target.  I don’t get it. I feel like it’s full of eccentric home décor, lots of super cute moms with the perfect messy buns, expensive makeup and sweet little children all dressed in clean clothes with matching socks.  That just has never been my life. Matching socks, cute kids or the perfect messy bun.

I’m at day 416 today and feeling as lost as when I walk into a Target.  Maybe I’m not lost, maybe I’m just down.  It could also totally  be depression and because I’m aware of that, I have also made an appointment with a Therapist at the first of the month.

It’s just been so weird lately.  I can start my mornings feeling UP UP UP and by the end of the day I’m in a funk.  This has been happening to me for a few weeks now. It could be a holiday thing, since I do hate the holidays. Maybe it’s because my oldest is not living with me and is on his way to a mental institution long term.  I have not talked or seen him in over four weeks.

I recognize that I’m his mother but I’m also codependent  in my behavior and wanting to fix him.  This at times can be absolutely exhausting.

I’m praying, mediating, helping others and reaching out, but this “feeling” is sticking right now.

I walked down the liquor isle last night at Walmart.  It was not a short cut to anything I needed nor was there a purpose. I walked past the wine and my body cringed. Thank God for that. I’m not sure why I did that, I don’t want to drink, but it’s this little piece of me inside that says “Lets be dangerous, let’s be impulsive. It’ll make you feel better.”

I’m glad I can recognize that insanity in my head that I once use to listen to. I’ve just never been in a place in life with the self-awareness to realize how uncomfortable life can make me feel.

Sobriety is about transparency and honesty and I have to constantly stay on my toes.  Everything takes time and everything will eventually become something that will pass.  Today I am reminding myself, Just because I’m feeling bad, it doesn’t mean I’m doing bad.

 

Messy Jessy

Good Enough

I woke up today and I found myself realizing how different I feel about my life and the things going on in it.

LETS JUST START WITH.  I’m sober, like REALLY FUCK’N SOBER.

I thought that was NEVER going to happen!  It kinda makes me feel like a bad-ass or magical. It’s actually a little bit of both and quite frankly that’s cool, because for the most part I’ve never really liked myself.

I have found that most of my life I measure my success on quite possibly the most immeasurable things.  Like, I’m a good mom if my kids are doing well.  I’m a good wife only if my marriage is prefect.  If my house is a mess, I’m clearly not a good homemaker.

TRY Harder, that’s what my brain always tells me.  DO MORE, KEEP GOING!  It’s exhausting to think about and it unravels my emotional stability far to fast. Will I ever be enough?

Over the last year a a half I have started to measure my success not on the things I am able to do physically or how the outwards appearance looks, but how I’m doing emotionally and on how I feel inside. Do I like myself??

This has been one of the hardest things for me.  I am in a marriage that is not only imperfect but sometimes not what I wanted at all.  Yet I’m able to support another human being in life.  I am a mother to a son that does not live in my house. He has severe mental health issues and lives in an institutional setting. I am still a wonderful mother and I’m proud of the path I have walked over the last year making the tough decisions I’ve had to.

I show up every day with a new perspective on how to handle situations and how to deal with life. Instead of trying harder in life, I try something different.  I let go of control and as soon as I do everything falls into place.  I stop being so self critical and realize it’s just me judging me.  I try to listen to my heart.  I am no longer striving for perfection or trying to fix the situation. I am now starting to realize I am good enough.

 

My son is a Sociopath

It’s tough to say this out loud. It hurts when I hear it from countless professionals. And It’s difficult to talk about to those I love. But, my son is a sociopath and I need to talk to someone.

From a very young age I knew something was not “right” I was told Autism, Asperger’s. We believed it, we thought it could be treated and then we moved on.

By Kindergarten’s first year, trouble started brewing. He was violent and aggressive with students and teachers. He first threatened to kill himself and another child at age six. I thought it was a phase, I remember the administration telling me what had happened and what he had said. I was concerned, I didn’t know what to do.
I moved him to a different school that year.

He had convinced me that they were just picking on him, exaggerating what had really happened. I believed him, after all he was young and seemed so sweet. We did this dance of the moving schools, switching the teachers and counselors for the next two years.

School had gotten bad. He was stealing from his teachers purse out of spite, he had strangled, their words, not mine, A child on the playground for not getting off a swing when he said so.

I finally found a behavior health school that specialized in Autism that was willing to work with him and we sent him over. He was eight at the time. The classroom where filled with behavior coaches, therapist, and safe rooms. He stayed at this school for another four years. His IEP goal was to keep his hands to himself and to not threaten anyone’s life for a whole year before public school would look at mainstreaming him.

Life seems to get better, he seems to conform. He started following perceived rules. Teachers were happy, he was eventually sent back to public school in seventh grade.

As soon as he was back in school things started to “Happen” again. People got hurt, things went missing, teachers were constantly calling and asking why he refused to listen. No one knew what was going on. It was almost like he enjoyed it. That was right around the same time I got married and had another baby.

Everything changed as soon as I brought another person into my life. Immediately my son started telling teachers, therapist that my husband was starving him, beating him. We had quite a few phone calls, house visits, CPS cases. Every time we met with a new professional. I told them everything that was happening. I asked for help, I begged for resources. I was given a look of confusion each time and they all told me there wasn’t much they could do. I was told it was bad behavior, maybe hormones of the teen years with the Autism that caused it. I was told he would grow out of it. I almost believed them.

It’s now been another five years. My son no longer lives in our home. The last five years he has spent terrorizing his little brother and those around me. He became obsessed with watching car death you-tube crashes and other violent things online. Life became completely unmanageable.

I spent two years with professionals coming in and out of our house. We had a behavior coach and mentor take him to be sociable with other teens. We had him volunteer at shelters. We did one on one in house family therapy and empathy engaging activities. Nothing seemed to help. He spent his time terrorizing our home and taking control over those closest to him. He tied up his little brother and gagged him, left him under our stairs. He attacked me in the back with a hammer and stripped me naked and threw me outside the house on one occasion. I finally let the state take him to a specialized mental health facility last year.

It’s been tough. Nothing has gotten better, just worse. He hurts the other children with him. Mostly psychological, threats to their loved ones. Promises to hurt if they don’t comply, listen and carry out his tasks. He’s been moved three times over the last year. It seems there is no hope.

I’m not sure why my GOD would make a child like this, I’m often wondering why he would give him to me. I pray, I have hope, and I give up every single day all at the same time.

Messy Jessy

My Dear Cruz,

Today you turned five. And I woke up to the repeating realization that these years are going by too quickly. Motherhood is the cruelest, most beautiful, and most bittersweet piece of life that I have ever been able to experience. You arrived and motherhood consumed me. Motherhood to two little men showed me what I could do and who I could be.birthday

I have carried you within me, I have held your hand as you learned to walk, wiped your tears as you fell down, I have encouraged you, I have cheered for you, I have felt your fears, I have embraced you when you have needed me and I have watched you all along the way. And every year you get older I realize that, while my job will never end as your mother, you will one day not ask for my hand to steady you, you will wipe your own tears when you fall, you will push yourself and you will conquer your fears. Happy fifth Birthday my sweet Cruz, you’re a big boy now!