Pretty sure it’s Tuesday, and the fact that I had to think about that is sad; still…

My mood is better today.

I can’t expect to feel positive all the time, when there are real problems I’m dealing with.

I’m not afraid anymore to say when I feel like shit inside, and I guess that is one good thing.  

Truth be told, I have no reason to trust anybody; or care. 

I think that’s a rather fucked up and selfish way of looking at things though; so I’m again looking on the bright side….because I actually hate feeling shitty…I don’t know if any of you have realized this by now, or not. I know it may be hard at points to tell.

If I could change one thing about myself, it would be my pessimism on life in general.

I work on it daily to control it; because I know that my attitude, directly affects my whole day, and life. Lately I’ve been failing.

It is still hard to stop up the leaks in my heart; for valid reasons that will always suck.

For that, I wish there were a solid cure that worked…

Faith seems to be the only option to slow it down.

Day 142 on the sober count; keeping it real, like always.

Love yourself.

J.Rounds ©2017 ~Peaces of ME

I’m down and missing significant pieces of my life…still sober though, just getting shit off my chest…again.

Firstly, I’m venting to get it out of me; and to process, so that I can accept it….long free-writing ramble.

The best kind right?

I haven’t spoken to my children in over two months. 

Every time I have tried to call or make plans to see them, I get no answer or response.

So I stopped trying. 

Two years ago I was calling every night. I was sick, and relapsing on and off; but I was still trying to maintain some sort of communication with my children. Always sober when I called. ALWAYS. I wanted them to know that I loved them, despite my absence/illness…also that I was still here. Since I was having financial issues at that time, I asked for Skype to be installed, so that I could talk to them… NO. I was told to get a proper phone like an adult, and call. So I did. 

I was treated like a piece of shit for having issues, and was talked down to repeatedly. Mostly just to keep me down; a lot of it, in front of my children.

My ex- husband then started telling me, that my daughter was having anxiety issues and had to see a therapist for it; because of me, and my calling…and the fact that she thought I just left her (because she was not told otherwise); also that the kids were old enough to make their own decisions about whether or not they wanted a relationship with me; and if given the choice, they would choose not to. 

He also said I abandoned my kids; and said I never even tried to call them.

Lately that’s been running through my mind like a broken record.

To my Ex-husband:  I DID NOT abandon my kids. I tried to see the kids before I left, and YOU said I couldn’t. I was in Kalamazoo, and you knew I was. 

I visited twice, as my finances would allow, after I left. 

I left the situation in general, because I knew I was going down, and I didn’t want to take anybody else with me. Our marriage was completely over, and you tried to shove me in a home with convicts and throw away the key; instead of actually helping me. Fuck that. I mean let’s get real here.

I’m pretty sure you would have left as well.

YOU TOLD ME NOT TO CALL. 

I call me leaving the marriage and then Michigan; being selfless and admitting that I was not able to be a fully-stable parent because my son passed, and I was his 24/7 caretaker…NOT YOU. I knew. Should I have robotted my way through it, like you? Don’t punish me for the rest of my life for not being as strong as you are. IT’S NOT RIGHT.  You never even tried to talk with me about any of it. Stop thinking I am the Jenni you knew so long ago. You don’t know me at all anymore.

I made some really bad choices in the past with a lot of things, but that’s not what I’m doing now. All of that crap was directly related to my grief…all of it. I never would have gone off the deep end like that had Karter not gone.

The reality is: I don’t get texts, calls, pictures or letters; although I’ve asked a million times for them. It is always me communicating with my kids. I’ve received one letter only, and one call when my son passed drivers training. My kids have phones and computers, and you have ALL of my information. When I do get to talk to them, they seem distracted and only concerned with things they want me to buy them, but can’t afford. Is this what I’ve become? It’s like I’m NO ONE to them now. 

I mean you blocked my eldest daughter, because she sent me a recent picture of my kids. 

Are you fucking serious?

I know that’s how kids are, but it hurts. It hurts because you intentionally made It worse by not telling them anything but bad shit about me. It hurts to know they don’t need me in their lives. It hurts that no matter what efforts I make, it is never enough. It hurts to know that some other woman does the things that I should be doing every day for my kids, but can’t. It hurts to know you give her the emotional support, that you should have given me. It hurts to know that you never tried to enforce the fact that I loved my kids, to my kids; made them think I abandoned them, and lied to everyone about how you raised them by yourself, and I was a shitty mother. 

You were at work. I was doing everything until you started taking shit away.  I took care of them for years after I left, even when I was working two jobs. 

But you raised them alone huh?

That’s a BS lie, and you know it.

The thing is though, that I KNOW that I’ve caused significant damage to my kids regarding my grief-filled, shit-storm of a spiral down…so I don’t have the RIGHT to be hurt. I DO understand that completely.

I’ve admitted and accepted responsibility for absolutely everything I ever did or was.

It STILL hurts. Because I have been talked down about, to my kids for years…by YOU, dear ex. 

And you said you’d never , ever keep my kids from me. 

You have. 

And you say it’s because you want to protect them. 

Protect them from what? A REAL, healthy relationship with their mother? 

What do I have to do? 

You know it kills me, but you don’t even care.

You’re hurting your kids too, you know. The sad thing is, you think it doesn’t hurt them. They don’t talk to me, because they don’t want to make you angry. Nothing more. I know about things like that for sure.

I’m a bipolar alcoholic with addictive tendencies. I’m NOT a bad person, or the devil. I am not a danger to my kids at all any longer, and I want some sort of break on that, because it’s absolutely ridiculous at this point. I am a sick person who has to maintain sobriety to keep in control. I try every day to be a better person, and am doing really well.

I don’t understand how my family can’t see this….OH yes I can. Not one person has called me in over three years. Thanks…I’m fine. You know just because I’ve had some VALID problems, doesn’t mean I don’t love my kids or can’t become better. I do and I have. 

I don’t want to be with my ex at all (obviously); I’m super glad he’s happy with his new wife, but I am not doing so well without my kids.

MY KIDS.

I can’t even get a fucking return text from my ex, regarding coming to see them. 

YES…that makes me angry.

I know that I have issues, but I am not who I was when I left Michigan.

I can’t make any kind of anything, with no actual chance. I’m really tired of kissing ass, and being ignored. I don’t care if you think I deserve it or not.

Divorced people every day make situations way worse than this work, for the sake of their kids. 

Seriously.

Truthfully, at this point, I don’t even really know if I want to go see my kids anymore, or if I even should. I STRUGGLE WITH IT. According to the way my ex acts and how my kids don’t ever contact me… I feel like it’s just better to let them live their lives and let them think I’m the junkie, crazy mother I’ve been made out to be. I mean, I give up.

It’s true. I was totally loaded on Xanax after Karter left. I had to be; I was completely devistated; that’s why the doctor prescribed it. Half the time, I was being handed the pills. So yes, I’m very much guilty. I did in the end mix it with alcohol too, and I totally fucked everything up because of it. It wasn’t planned. I needed help, and I’m sorry for it.

I cannot apologize enough, or even put into words what it feels like to know I did those things, and can’t take it back, or make it better.. I punish myself every, single day; and always will. YOU SHOULD KNOW THAT.

My biggest regret is not thinking more of my children’s feelings, because I was too lost in my own despair to do anything but try to breathe and not die myself. I DIDNT KNOW HOW TO STOP IT FROM COMING.

Regrets….

I hope when my kids get to adulthood, they will understand that I am not the same now, as I was after their brother died. 

I used to call every night. Then it went down to once a week, then once every two weeks, now nothing. 

I can’t really expect anything, because I ruined everything. 

I am glad that my kids are happy, and I have to remember that that is the most important thing. 

My ex-husband is right about one thing. My kids ARE old enough to decide. 

If they don’t want anything to do with me, then there’s really nothing I can do.

I’ll continue to send them stuff on holidays and Birthdays. At least I’m good for that much. 

I pretty much figure that I ruin every single thing I touch. I don’t deserve my kids. 

Sucks having to admit that. 

Sucks grieving for three kids you carried, loved and pushed out of your body…when they are still alive. 

Sucks knowing that your ex does whatever he can to make sure that you stay away. Can you pick up the phone, or return a text? 

Because saying that I never called or tried, simply isn’t true. 

I hate myself every day for being too weak to keep my shit together and be a proper mother, Because I know I am a good mother when I’m not grieving and going insane, or drinking. AND I AM.

I haven’t drank for over three months.

I still feel like a loser for being me.  I miss my kids so much I can’t even think about it, because I get depressed and can’t cope. 

I wish they would love me again, and that they wanted me in their lives.

It’s not the case at all, and I’m just hurting today a lot because my family has for all intensive purposes shut me out, and given up on me. 

I just wonder how much someone has to change, to deserve some kind of love; some sort of chance to make it right.

I’m rambling. 

Maybe I don’t deserve it. I don’t think that’s true at all, but maybe.

I’m trying to love myself despite the fact that I wish I could just die already. 

I don’t know what I expected, but I surely never thought it’d be like this. 

Consequences of a sick mind I guess. FML. Apparently I’m not allowed to feel any certain way about it, because if I do; I’m selfish…and really I’m just a piece of shit drunk that abandoned her kids, and that’s all I’ll ever be… right?

FUCK OFF, and FUCK YOU.

Now I have to try to get myself in a better mood; and be strong, so as not to appear affected by any of it. 

Isn’t that what I’m supposed to be? STRONG? 

Yeah right. 

No worries…I’m on it.

Love yourself.

J.Rounds ©2017 ~Peaces of ME

Re-reading Past Writings

Something I decided to share because I’m healing.  I’ve been going over a lot of my writings from past years. So much dark and hurt and heavy. It’s hard to read. I believe if I didn’t have my writing I would have slit my throat, overdosed, or hung myself. I know I would have. Grief can kill you if you don’t get a handle on it. For me, that’s what I had to do. I still have bad times of course, but mostly life is slowly starting to even out. Opting out is no longer an option for me; and I’m able to recover more quickly from my “moments”. (Usually) Medication helps.

Sometimes you come across certain things, that I believe you’re supposed to see for a reason. I have battled with myself and my faith since I learned what “God” was, or what they said he was supposed to be.

This is one of my many letters to “God”.

Not sure what it means that I saw this. Perhaps nothing at all. Perhaps it’s to remind me of how far I’ve come…or where I need to go.

I’m not really sure how it works.

??
What about me?
What about how I hurt inside?

Isn’t it enough to know I struggle everyday? Isn’t THAT enough for you???

What about my feelings? My weaknesses? My triggers? My little boy, burned up and sitting in a box, on a shelf, that YOU took away?

Doesn’t it matter that I want to be well and become better and forget?

Doesn’t any of it matter at all?

It matters to me.

And I don’t even know what this life means anymore.

You abandoned me when I needed you the most.

I don’t believe you exist or ever did.      (2010)

I think it is a very normal feeling to struggle with your faith after you’ve been through something that will forever change you and leaves a massive void.

I’m not going to go on about “God”, or lack there of. I think religion is a personal journey; much like life.

This just made me remember and cry. I remember those times. It was still fresh, and the feelings bit at me every waking moment.

It has been a very long, very hard 8 years. I still ask all of those questions on a bad day.

I needed to see this. I needed to remember; and I needed to share it. That that was then, and this is NOW.

Now is so much better. I also know the answers to most of those questions too.

Believe in and love yourself. It lies within you. The rest follows.

I am grateful for my life.

J.Rounds (c)2016 ~Peaces of Me

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Free writing memory.

When I was small, my father had a few muscle cars and we lived in the house in Portage.

There was a field across from our house and my dog used to run in that field, unleashed and probably uncollared too although I can’t remember.

The street that I can recall was busy but not constantly.

This night my dog ran into the road and a car hit it. It was laying there and my father ran out into the middle of the road and started freaking out.

For the life or me I can’t remember the name of the dog. I think Arthur. 

I remember my mother putting me in the front seat of the Roadrunner, and my dog lay on the back seat bleeding. We rushed to the vet.

Something in me before my dog even got hit, told me he would get hit long before he did. I used to watch my father yell at him to stay away from the road, why I stay on the stoop outside waiting for my mom or playing. I knew that and I was only four years old. Kids are intuitive.

The thing that scared me that night was not my dog on the back seat bleeding; but seeing my father crying in the front.

My dog died.

And I would never see my father cry that way again.

I know I felt bad; but I also knew we’d get another dog eventually.

I think my father was mad at himself.

My father is actually my step- father. Not to confuse the two.

J.Rounds (c)2016 ~Peaces of ME

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YOU

I feel lost without you.

I know it is a sickness in me that I must work to cure.

Every day.

There is a part of my soul that is gone now.

I cry for you.

I long for you until my tears blind my vision and I have to shut my eyes.

I feel you in my heart and always will.

I know you’re not coming back to me.

Sometimes I wonder if you were ever really there to begin with.

I still see you in my dreams and we are together again.

My heart is broken and cannot be fixed.

If there is such a place as another world, I hope to see you there.

Dream of me.

J. Rounds ©2015 ~Peaces of Me