My sweet kitty

My baby Bowie,

you came to me at a time in my life when I really needed unconditional love, I was hurting. I remember seeing your picture on Facebook for the first time, I instantly knew I wanted to be your mom. I could tell by your cheeky grin that you would fit right in with our hodgepodge family of rescues. The first night in your new home you refused to sleep anywhere but on my chest, with your nose touching mine. You followed me everywhere. Even to places that I didn’t want you to, like the toilet. I’ll never forget the way you would look into my eyes and touch my cheek as if to say, it’s going to be okay mom, I love you. You were so much more than I ever expected you to be and I know that some people might think he was just a cat but to me you were a positive constant, a pain killer and that extra bit of light on my dark days. I love you my baby Bowie. Thank you for loving me and our family. I sure wish we could have had you in our lives a bit longer.

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

I ask for more time

Yesterday I cried a lot. It was a combination of antidepressant withdrawal and the phone call from my little sister telling me that my mom had a seizure. I was home alone when I got the call and basically, my chest went off like a hand grenade. I was trying to call my family but I was hyperventilating so all I could do was text. My mom lives in another state with her narcissistic asshole of a husband and I don’t trust him. Since I couldn’t be at the hospital with her I got ahold of my uncle and one of my other siblings. They both went to be with her so I felt calmer, or as calm as I could feel.

I keep thinking about how I’ll make it through her death. My grandmother was in her fifties when she passed away, my moms forty seven this May. I keep telling myself that death just is. I can not stop it or slow it down. Nor can I run from it, hide from it or reason with it. I have no choice but to face death.

I’m not a habitual church goer but I talk to God. Heaven and hell are very real to me ( Don’t worry, I’m not all fire and brimstone.) I’ve had many supernatural experiences, most of which took place when I was a small girl. The story of my faith I’ll save for a later time but it was a pivotal moment in my life. My Momma will always be with me, I am a part of her but to think that I won’t be able to pick up the phone and hear her voice when I need comfort is unfathomable.

Our relationship has been a complicated one but she has always been a constant in my life. She has asked for my forgiveness for things that I went through in my childhood and I have learned to except her flaws. We are only human. When the time comes I’ll remember her words for they are apart of me as my skin is a part of me. Her song has settled in my hands where she will always hold me.

Things that bring me comfort

Isaiah 43:2 “When you pass through the waters, I will be with you; and when you pass through the rivers, they will not sweep over you. When you walk through the fire, you will not be burned; the flames will not set you ablaze.”

In the calm

I haven’t had many words lately. I’ve been overwhelmed this past week with my Grandfathers passing and almost losing my cat Coco.

Sometimes, I think my heart is
going to stop from sadness but It keeps beating and I keep breathing. One foot moves in front of the other and the sun sets again.

I know now that strength is found in sorrow, pain and endings.

I look to the stars for answers.

Be still. Listen. Wait.

If my heart could speak

If my heart could speak this is what it would say. I wish I could make you understand my pain and the loss that I feel. It’s the death of us, of the love that I thought I could always count on to get us through anything because it always has. It’s the loss of family hugs with our son, of putting up the Christmas tree together, of late night talks and tickle fights, little kisses all over my face and nose nuzzles. When we were going through hard times and I grew weary, you would put your head agents mine and say “as long as we have each other will be okay” forever isn’t as long as I’d hoped it would be. I’m still waiting for your heart to come home to us.