8th Grade

An old friend of mine Charity, contacted me through IG and sent me this picture of us in Mrs. Sherri Wilbur’s class. I was so happy to hear from her because we lost contact with each other when I moved to Arizona. She was always super sweet and soft spoken and I was a bit shy but also awkwardly funny. We became fast friends.

We started catching up on each others lives and I mentioned that I would like to get in touch with Mrs. Wilbur. She was the first and only teacher that I ever liked or cared for. She really took the time to make sure that I was getting the attention that I needed in class, she was so genuine. I wanted to thank her. I wanted her to know that she really made a difference in an area of my life that was really difficult for me.

I found out, sadly she passed away from cancer earlier this year. It really hurt me to get that news. I cried over it because I had thought about her many times over the years but never reached out and now I would never have the chance to. Charity told me that she attended her funeral and many of her other students were there. I found her obituary online and wrote her a letter, I at least wanted her family to know what she had done for me.

On the right of me is Charity and to the left of me are Marcus (my boyfriend at the time) and Jose.

5:04am

My brain has thrown everything at me from; Giant Huntsman Spiders to Christmas cookie recipes to serial killers. WTF!

I thought I kicked this insomnia. Guess not…

Provisional blog post

Sometimes, the thing that might seem absurd to an outside perceiver of a situation is the right thing for the person going through the issue.

I was talking about this with my therapist last week, in regards to an internal struggle I’m having. I had this close friend who hurt me deeply and our friendship stopped abruptly. It was revealed to me that she and my husband were having an inappropriate relationship and I freaked out (I lost my shit for a good year and a half). I said and did some things that were out of my normal character and most people tell me that I was justified in my actions, but that’s not the type of person that I ever wanted to be. I regret the mean things I said and did. Since then my husband and I have both worked extremely hard to repair the damage that was done to our marriage and the issues that lead him to pursue the affair in the first place. It’s been a very long and sometimes dark road but so far we have become stronger and more connected. One of the biggest things is COMMUNICATION and being open to listening to what one another has to say without judgment.

He knows that what he did to both of us was wrong; the manipulation, the lies, everything. We’ve talked about it many times. As far as the pain he’s caused me, I am for the most part over it. And I say for the most part because scaring is inevitable, but it’s how you choose to heal that determines the outcome of your future wellbeing. I choose to rise above and grow from it. I trust him and I forgive him. My therapist is always telling me that I’m a strong person because of the way that I love and forgive. I tell her that it’s just the way that I believe love should be.

The part that I still struggle with is the loss of my friend and the things she said and believed about me during and after the affair. I don’t think about it nearly as much as I used to but why do I think about it at all? Why do I still reminisce and wish things could have been different? I believe there are several reasons for this. She believed that I was talking badly about her while we were still close friends and that never happened. Regardless of our current friendship status, It’s important to me that she knows that none of what was fed to her was true. I excepted her regardless of the things she told me about her past. I never saw anything bad in her (except that she could be quite bitchy sometimes) because she was my friend and I loved her.

I never once only blamed her for what happened but I did hold her accountable for her part. This was not a normal affair, she wasn’t some unsuspecting women who didn’t know my husband was married. She was a friend to both of us and she knew how I felt about my marriage because we had talked about it, even while the affair was happening. I wish it could have been someone who I didn’t know, It would have been less painful. I am not a toxic person and our friendship was not toxic. If the affair never happened, I believe we would still be friends today. It seemed like she used that as a scapegoat. Maybe because It made her feel justified in what she did? I don’t know. I did not try to friend request her mother after her death, that request was sent while she was still alive. And despite how angry I was at her, I would never want her dead.

So many times I have wanted to talk to her, to sort through some of the bullshit but I didn’t feel safe. My therapist thinks that I should talk to her but only if I’m ready to hear what she has to say, good or bad. It’s important that I don’t go into it with any expectations of  sincere remorse or an apology because in the past she’s been incapable of apologizing without putting the word “but” after it. She always turns it around to somehow be my fault or to point out why our friendship wouldn’t have worked out anyway. It sucks. I do forgive her and I want her to forgive herself. I want nothing but good things for her in her life.

It’s been a very long time since I’ve written about any of this but it’s been on my mind lately and I just needed to write it out.

Goodnight, Mandy

Unexpected calls

I was on my way to get my nails and toes done today but decided I didn’t feel like driving all the way to Gilbert. I went to finish my Christmas shopping for my nieces, nephews and little cousins instead. I pulled into the shopping center and I felt my phone vibrating, it was a call from an unknown number. I hesitated but answered it. The voice that started speaking on the other end sounded shaky and weak.

At first, I didn’t recognize this person but then I realized it was my friend Jess. I was surprised to hear from her because the last time we had contact she was pretty rude to me over something petty. I was in Alaska, helping my grandma get her house ready to sell and I didn’t have time to see her right away. My grandma was still a mess from losing her Husband and Son a few days apart from each other months earlier, so being there for her was my main priority. It pissed Jess off and she texted me something super rude and bitchy. I deleted her off of FB and Instagram but she was still following me and “liked” my stuff from time to time. I basically said “Fuck It” I don’t need the stress and didn’t talk to her at all. It’s been six months.

I could tell something was wrong with her because she was stuttering and having a hard time getting her words out. I asked her if she was okay and she proceeded to tell me that she was recently diagnosed with some uncommon form of Tourettes syndrome that was brought on by stress. It’s not just her speech that has been affected, she has tremors and ticks as well. She started crying and I felt horrible. I just listened and let her get everything out that she needed to say. The longer we talked and the more she relaxed her sentences became smoother, more fluid. By the end of our three hour conversation she seemed much better. She told me that she really missed me and that she wanted to hear my voice. She felt relieved. I think that was her way of apologizing.

Her and I have been long time friends, since the age of sixteen. She introduced me to my husband and we have been there for each other through a lot of hard times. I think, had there been better communication between us we could have avoided the bullshit in the first place. I’m happy that she reached out to me. ❤

Insomnia

I should be sleeping but my brain has other plans. I have VNG testing tomorrow to see if the dizzy spells I’ve been having are caused by an inner ear issue. If the test comes back negative, i’ll have to have a CAT scan of my brain. The last time I had one done I felt like I peed myself because of the contrast dye they inject. It was embarrassing. Hopefully we figure out what’s going on soon.

Curio Cabinet

My cousin and I went to breakfast a few days ago and we were talking about our connection and interest in the paranormal and other oddities. We have together and separately experienced some seriously creepy ass unexplainable shit and I have always felt like I was haunted and somewhat clairvoyant. Whenever we get into those discussions our grandma Sue usually comes up. The house she owned when I was growing up was haunted as fuck, some man drown his son in the bathtub before she bought the place. I’m unsure if she knew about it before she moved in, or if weird shit started happening after and she researched and found out about it. She would have seances and psychics come to the house. Once, she even had Sylvia Brown do a reading for her. She also loved wizards and unicorn, I think I defiantly get my weirdness from her <3.

There was this curio cabinet in her family room that she kept some of her mystical treasures in. she had a crystal ball, all different kinds of stones and crystals. She also kept old photographs and her poetry books in it, some of which was her own writing. I was always very curious about what was inside that cabinet and sometimes she would let me open it and check out what was inside. After she passed away her things were not well taken care of which I was super pissed and sad about. The Curio Cabinet was one of the few things that didn’t get sold or destroyed, my Uncle J had it. He gave it to me a few months ago along with other antique furniture from his house. Today I finally cleaned it up and put all of my own “odds and ends” in it. I’m so grateful that he gave it to me because its like having a piece of her and a cherished part of my childhood.

Sometimes I’m sorry isn’t closure.

Today was exhausting but good. My sister moved out this morning, I had mixed emotions about it. I enjoy having my family around but I also like/need my alone time. It seemed like my house was always messy and that caused me to be anxious, but I guess it couldn’t be helped with 7 people and 5 animals under one roof. I spent the majority of the day deep cleaning and reorganizing my house. I put up some Christmas decorations and fluffed the new Christmas tree I bought yesterday. I also finally put together my grandmas curio cabinet that was given to me by my uncle. It brings back fond childhood memories for me.

I am thankful that I was able to bond with my sister and my nieces. My sister and I discussed at length how we felt growing up with my father and what we each experienced. The verbal, physical and sexual abuse. Emotional exhaustion, always feeling like we were the ones to blame for his moods and actions. We describe it as having a daytime dad and a night time dad (Confusing as fuck, I know).

She expressed to me that she needed closure, she needed verbal conformation that what he did to her wasn’t her fault. Well meaning family and friends always told us that what he did wasn’t our fault, but its not the same as hearing it from the source of your suffering. I told her about the first time I spoke to him since he had gone to prison. All I could do was sob and none of my words made sense even though in my head I practiced a million times what I was going to say to him. I was a twenty eight year old women and some how this man whom I hadn’t spoken to in six years still insighted fear and intimidation over me.  I wanted so much to be angry with him, to scream at him but I couldn’t. I just mostly listened to what he had to say.

” I love you sweetheart, I have always loved you and I am so so sorry for what I put you through. Please know that it was in no way your fault. You did not deserve all of the horrible things I said and did to you. Please don’t carry around that burden anymore, it isn’t yours to bare. There are no words I can say to take your pain but I hope someday you can forgive me. I was sick and someday I’ll tell you about it”.

Hearing his words was in some way healing for me but it wasn’t closure. I think I have to find that on my own. My sister finally decided to write him, I pray that she gets what she needs or at least some semblance of it. I want her to go to therapy but she has to seek that for herself. As much as I want to fix it for her or to take her pain away, I can’t. I can only listen, hold her when she cries and tell her that she is strong and that in the end it will all be okay. We have survived every bad day so far. Thats all for now my loves.

Goodnight, Mandy ❤