I know the world is unfair. I know that I am given challenges that would knock others to their knees. Usually I forgive because I know my negative energy only hurts me…it makes no difference to the other parties involved. They have no idea I am spending precious hours of my life stewing and boiling, yelling, crying and yes, even wishing pain upon them. And with my current situation the pain is bound to come. Even as mad as I am, only the pain of the dirtbag who latched onto the money train will even give me an ounce of satisfaction right now. Everyone else I’m currently seething over…well, I really don’t want hurt. I just need to vEnT, cause otherwise, I’m gonna explode and as much as forgiveness has been a part of my life, anger has been right alongside it. My temper is virulent. I’m liable to resort to physical violence and right this second I would, which is why I must get this out.
There are all kinds of awesome things in my life…today I don’t want to talk about them.
Today I’m pissed. I went to bed pissed, I woke up pissed and the anger feels good. I get to be angry. And anger CAN be good. I’m gonna let my anger shine and fester for at least a few more hours, maybe longer. And when it fizzles away this time, it’s gonna come back. Its all too new and fresh and little things keep happening to throw it back in my face. I’ve disconnected, blocked and stopped talking to certain people but, but I still see shit.
Leeeeetle background. I’m 28 weeks pregnant today. The start of my third trimester. Physically, my pregnancy has been a cake walk. Puked a few times in the beginning. Ankles swelled a bit when I was working too much. I get a bit of heartburn.
Mentally this pregnancy has been awful. I have wanted one baby…for years and years, but my life was a fuck-up fest for years and years, so I chose not to bring a new life into it. I re-met a man a little over a year ago that I had known through the party scene in high school and it seemed like he was getting his shit together too. We had an intensity off the bat that I have never matched. I loved falling in love with him. At first I wanted to keep it more casual than he did. Oh how the tables turned only a year later.
We started and stopped our relationship, because the first time around, I wasn’t ready. I wasn’t sure and I did something that hurt him. He left the state and I chose to contact my most recent ex. He calls it cheating…it actually wasn’t, but it was a very painful thing for him and still wrong on my part. Even if in my head I wasn’t ready to be just with him, I had told him I was. He got his revenge when he came back to Illinois and we thought we had worked thru it (really we hadn’t because it came up every time we argued). But, we got back together. The intensity was still there and we started to grow together, making some awesome memories.
This won’t turn into a bash him article…I care about what happens to him. And I won’t bash myself either, but I will be honest. No matter how awful he can say I was or how controlling, I never wanted anything but good things for his life. And I supported every choice that led him to betterment. And I almost lost myself in the process. My codependency kicked in and I began to focus so much on another person, that I neglected my growth. I still did all the things I should do…went to work, set goals, achieved goals, made time for his kids and our relationship, but I tried to force change. My favorite character defect.
Back to the pissed. He left me. At six months pregnant on July 3rd, he went to Florida again to help his mother with the closing on her home. I asked him to use the phone I gave him as a birthday present to check on me a couple times a day. As I worked two jobs to pay all of our bills he was back on the road…but I was fine with it. His final words to me as he left “Baby, I love you. You are the best thing that has ever happened to me. As soon as I come home, I’m going to work and I’m gonna take care of our family.” In the four days that it took them to get to Florida, he only voluntarily contacted me once. I was incessently calling and texting because I was freaked! Where was he? Was he okay? The one nice-ish message I got in return said that the trip was so bad, he didn’t want to worry me with details. Hello?! Not hearing anything was way worse. My mental state was slowly collapsing at this point.
They made it to Florida. Around July 8th. I wasn’t there and my reports are only second hand, so I can’t say how it happened. Only that he completely cut off contact with me. And when he finally accidentally answered me…I was again calling and texting incessantly, he had another woman with him. July 10th, they were Facebook official. I lost it…despite all my efforts at a better life, I lost my mind and was scared I would revert to my old self very quickly. I wanted to do a whole bunch of heroin and stop feeling. I didn’t. I called my mom and brother and after hours of puking foam and saying how I give up, my mom made me go to the hospital, where they kept me on the psych ward for four days. I came home and lost my serving job…even after showing them my intake papers and a clean drug screen. Anger there. He never once checked on me or the health of his unborn child. Anger there for sure. Later he said things to make me feel guilty that I would think of harming our daughter. Even more anger.
July 20th they headed back to Illinois. He had her in tow. I paid for his truck insurance, his truck tow, saw his kids and made him a list of barge jobs while he was gone. He picked up a new girlfriend and couldn’t even make the time to give me any explanation. Now they are running all over my home town and there are people that I know embracing this new thing he has with him.
I’m angry that people aren’t yelling at him everywhere he goes. I’m angry that he’s off the hook for the baby we purposely created. I’m angry that he never checked on his unborn child until he found out I got robbed and I was going to the police about that and something that happened before he left…the first time he’s been civil to me since he’s been back. I’m angry that he has forgotten all the little things that we did that made us so happy together. I’m especially angry that this pregnancy I’ve wanted for so long has been so painful. That I haven’t enjoyed it like I should. That I only got to experience all of the shared joys for a couple months: reading about her progress each week, watching her kick, seeing her respond to our voices, taking pictures to share with her later as my belly gets bigger, going to appointments together. I’m angry that I’m the one rubbing lotion on my belly, and running out in the middle of the night: that he’s not here to share my days and my first and probably only pregnancy. I feel robbed. I’m angry Ayla won’t know a home with a mother and father who love each other. I’m angry that I’m scared of not liking my own child. I’m angry that he told this girl that our child was a mistake. I’m angry that I’m so against becoming jaded that I let people get over on me. Nearly $1000 came up missing from my home last week. The money I needed to have a cushion, so my baby and I could buy a bigger house. I’m angry that he’s spending his mother’s money so carelessly on a girl he’s known for less than a month, rather than doing what he promised for our family or giving his other three children’s grandmother some money for child support. I’m angry that he has to work for nothing and I’m angry that he doesn’t see this girl for what she must be. I’m angry at her for more reasons than I care to list…I want to physically harm her on a regular basis. And I can, but others keep telling me that I shouldn’t do it cause I’m pregnant. Ugh fine…so, now I’m angry that no one else has done it yet for me.
I’m getting counseling. He will tell you I’m a hypocrite, that I fucked up too…and it would be the truth. I just chose to dust myself off and immediately get my life back on the rails. He has picked a different path and I’m angry. I want him to want the life we had, to want to reach out to me to help him get back on the tracks too…but again, that’s my control issue. I will have to deal with whatever consequences come from both my actions and from the life that my child’s father is choosing. Rarely will you hear me say this…but it’s NOT fair. I want some justice, but I want it to come my way. It’s not going to. I’m not going to manifest things into another person’s life like I can my own. And that makes me pissed.