One Week Ago

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At 7:30am will be one week since my dad was killed. I’m feeling extremely numb today. I wanted to call into work for the day off, but I’m hoping work will keep me distracted and focused on something else.

Last night was the first night I was alone. My daughter went to ex’s for the weekend. I did pretty good, until I was scrolling on social media and I seen my mom had posted a picture of my dad. The first time I saw this photo was at the funeral. It was one of the last pictures taken of him. He was a groundskeeper for the school. The photo is of him on his mower. In his hand is his iPod. He is smiling, as always. At the funeral, this photo made me laugh. Dad loved being outside. He loved his job. He loved music. That was him. Last night, I saw the photo and I lost it. Tears poured down my cheeks. I wanted to call someone to talk, but I’m feeling like a burden on people. I feel like people are expecting me to shut up and move on. Yesterday I was talking to someone and she told me I’ve “been talking a lot.” That comment stuck with me. I don’t know if she meant it as a positive or a negative. I mean positive because I am talking about what happened. I’m not bottling up my emotions. Or, negative that she is tired of hearing from me because I have seen and talked with her every day this week. Even my posts on here have had less views, likes, and comments ever since this has happened.

I know death makes people feel uncomfortable. I don’t want to make people to feel like that. But, on the opposite side I need someone to talk to and to listen to me.

Another part of me feels guilty when I don’t think about my dad. I tried watching a movie last night. I felt guilty for not thinking about dad. I felt like this horrible person. Then I think about all the days I went without calling or texting my dad. I feel like a horrible daughter. I feel like I should have done more. I should have stayed in contact more.

I thought I had more time with my dad. I imagined him getting to see me get remarried and having more kids. I always imagined him getting to meet his great-grandchildren. I never imagined this is how life would turn out.

A Tribute and a Funeral

On Tuesday, I took a couple of hours to write a tribute for my dad:

November 30, 2018 is a date that I will never forget. I have spent the past few days trying to collect myself and find the right words to express my love for an amazing person.

That morning I received a phone call from my mom, which was odd since it was about 7:30am on a workday, I was working so could not answer the phone, and quite honestly I assumed it was a butt dial. Dad would butt dial me often, and when I would call him back he would sheepishly admit it was an accident. We would laugh then he would wish me a good day and we would exchange “I love you.”

This call was not a butt dial. A voicemail notification appeared on my phone – to this day that notification is still on my phone. I have not brought myself to listen to the message. Mom also sent me a text message. I did not open the text, but I saw a few words as it scrolled across the top part of the screen: “Dad” “accident” and “bad.”

I called my mom. She answered the phone; her voice cracked “Dad didn’t make it.” I was floored. Shock knocked me to my knees. I shouted “What?!?” into the phone. It took me a couple of minutes to realize what was really happening. When it hit me, I sobbed.

Once I started crying, I really didn’t stop.

Actually, I still cry.

I want to thank everyone that has messaged me and offered kind words. I want to thank the ones that have allowed me to cry with them and on their shoulder. I want to tell those that really do not know what to say or do, it is okay. We are still friends. Honestly, I don’t really know what to say or do either. So, if you have felt uncomfortable and avoided me, it is okay. I do not think any less of you and there are definitely no hard feelings.

It still seems surreal. I know right now I’m running on exhaustion and grief. I know tomorrow, his funeral, will be the hardest day of my life. I know it is going to be a gorgeous ceremony. I know he is going to be so pleased with everything – all the family and friends, music, decorations, and most of all the fact that there will be a bagpipe player there. One request my dad always made for his funeral was to have Amazing Grace played on the bagpipes.

For those that never got to meet my dad, he was an amazing person. He had a big smile that would brighten your day. He had bright eyes, and when he wore blue his eyes would shine even brighter. He was shy at first, but once you got to know him he was goofy and a tad of a chatterbox. He loved to laugh. He was easily embarrassed. During family gatherings, we would share stories – “Pepsi feet,” “the corn story,” “damn peanut,” and “steak” – (just to recall a few) where dad was the focus of the story, he would laugh and blush.

He was the hardest working person I’ve ever met. He had problems with his back, but he would still go to work and mow and weed eat around the school and would never once complain. He would brag about his fun toys at work. He loved being outside. He absolutely loved his job and his coworkers. He was a volunteer firefighter. My dad was the type that he would help anyway he could. He loved getting to help others.
He loved his family. He started his family young. He was 21 years old when I was born. When he became a Pappy he was so proud and excited. When I was pregnant, he was so worried he would not be able pronounce my daughter’s name – I remember him telling me he would just call her by her middle name. Once she was born, he was able to say her first name with ease. She loved Pappy.

She regrets deleting his text messages before his passing, which I do too. She regrets not making deviled eggs for Pappy for Thanksgiving this year, which we would only make them for Christmas, but Pappy loved her deviled eggs.

Pappy loved food and loved to cook. Growing up, I remember he would try new recipes – several times he would just throw whatever together, most of the time it turned out really good. However, there were times when he didn’t feel like cooking. One summer, he fixed corn dogs for us most of the summer. The “summer of corn dogs” was another story shared quite often.

My dad loved music. Even though his hearing was getting worse, he would just turn up the music. He would gladly listen to new songs and bands. He would close his eyes and tap his foot and really get lost in the song. Growing up we had a chicken house. We would have music blaring while we gathered eggs. Back then the bands were mainly rock bands. Dad would sing and dance. He told me once that if it didn’t make your eardrums bleed, then it wasn’t good music. Of course, over the years his taste in music did mellow out. I took his words to heart. I am still a fan of metal and rock music because of him. I still listen to the 80’s hair bands because of him, too.

Dad loved movies and TV. We might have traumatized my youngest brother once while watching a marathon of Tales from the Crypt. My brother started doing the Crypt keeper’s laugh. We would joke about that often. We would watch Jeopardy. My dad was so smart. He loved knowledge. He would provide random facts and information. He loved learning about myths and history.

He hated confrontation. However, if you needed him, he had your back. He was so accepting. He would not judge. He never had a mean thing to say about anyone. He wanted what was best for his family. He wanted us to be happy.

At my wedding, he was completely supportive. He stood there holding onto my arm waiting to give me away. He being there kept me from running away. Even though my marriage ended in divorce, I got my daughter because of it. So, for that I am glad my dad kept me there.

My dad had a black belt in Taekwondo. I made it to green belt, but quit because I got stuck with the nickname “powder puff” from the instructor. My dad was awesome with the martial arts. Because of him, I would do Taekwondo routines for talent competitions at pageants. We spent so much time coming up with a routine to “Saint Elmo’s Fire.” I remember preforming the routine at the pageant and spacing out. I went through the entire routine and the ending included a flying side kick with a yell. That yell brought me back into the moment. I told dad and he said that was how it was supposed to be.

He always was supportive. He helped haul my horses to shows. Even the time I accidentally rolled a horse onto the front of his truck, he still supported me. He would ride with us. My last horse, Dandy, my dad hated that horse, but he would still help me catch him. I remember dad getting on the tractor one time just to help me corner that crazy yellow horse in a corner of the pen. Dad even made half the backyard into a smaller pen just for Dandy so I would not spend hours chasing that rotten palomino through the pen for each show, playdate, and rodeo. Dad loved animals. Growing up, we always had a house cat. Dad would make those cats so mean. They would hid and attack you as you walked through the house. He would always pet our dogs and cats.

I got an open memorial tattoo for my dad several years ago – I never in my wildest dreams thought I would be completing that tattoo this soon. I showed him my tattoo and he was so happy. He loved it. He had to touch it, and he commented on how well done it was – smooth and no blow outs. Now, I am so glad I got that tattoo when I did. Even though it is going to be so hard finishing it, I am so happy Dad got to see his tattoo. And I will always have him right there on my arm, and by my side.

My dad was a rock. He was so strong and supportive. I only remember seeing him show a moment of weakness twice. Once, when his mother lost her battle to cancer, and the second was when the chicken house burned down. Other than those two moments, my dad always loved life. He would want all of us to do the same. I know tomorrow there are going to be tears when we all say our final goodbyes, but I know he understands.

I am heartbroken that I do not have a single picture of my dad from 2018. This year has been weird. We always take a family photo on Mother’s Day. This year, I ended up being at the ER on Mother’s Day so when I got to their house I did not want to do anything but sit there – I regret it, I know. I know he would have been to every event, game, and activity that my daughter had if we did not live so far away, but his back prevented him from making the trip and sitting on the bleachers. I understood. Thanksgiving this year was rough. The visit wasn’t the visit it should have been. Once again, no family pictures were taken. Honestly, no hugs, “I love you”’s, or goodbyes were exchanged because of situations from that day. My daughter and I regret that so much. I never imagined that would be the last time I would see my dad, or she would see her Pappy. For that, I really hope can forgive us both. Which, I know he does. My dad was so understanding, forgiving, and compassionate. He probably would make some joke or sheepish comment to make us laugh and to show he forgives us. My daughter also cried because she was so sad that she never gave him a hug goodbye. I had to tell her the story about my grandmother – my dad’s mom – who passed when I was seven. I couldn’t bring myself to give her a hug the last time I seen her. I did not want her to see me cry, and so she passed without me getting to tell her “I love you” and giving her a hug. So, I told my daughter that is how this family rolls. We don’t want sappy goodbyes. We want to celebrate life and joke around with each other.

Because of my dad’s character, I know he would not want us to be angry about the accident. It is hard not to have hate for the man that hit dad’s car. It is hard not to have hate that we lost the most amazing man there ever was. But, I know dad would not want that. He would want us to enjoy life and to remember the good. One thing I have learned from my divorce is, hate doesn’t change anything. You can be angry, but it isn’t going to change anything. Hate isn’t going to make me less divorced, and hate isn’t going to bring my dad back. Hate will just consume you. Hate will hide the sorrow and grief, but will not get rid of it. Hate will make you lash out. Hate will make you become someone you do not recognize. My dad would never want any of us to be like that.

I miss my dad. I find myself thinking about everything he is going to miss – my daughter turning 13 this month, if and when I get married again, every game and band concert, everything. I know holidays are never going to be the same. This year is going to be so hard. We already have our tree up and gifts under it. We bought my parents a gift several months ago. It is already wrapped and under the tree. I find myself looking at it and not knowing if we should rewrap it or leave it. I also find myself realizing it is an amazing gift, even though when I bought it I did not realize it, but it is going to bring comfort.

Thank you for taking the time to read about my dad.

To my dad, I want to say: I love you. I have always had so much love and respect for you; even though there were times that I seemed distant. You made a big impact on me and my daughter. I will always treasure our chats and stories. I will miss you and I know a piece of my heart is shattered and missing without you here, but I am strong.
Love you forever, Sis.

****

I went back and forth about inviting ex to the funeral. I did invite him. He came.

Yesterday was my dad’s funeral. I did really well at the beginning of the day. I made the drive still feeling okay.

I walked into the funeral home and I seen the slideshow playing and I lost it. I had to be alone and cry. I gathered myself and emerged back where the family was sitting before the service. As soon as I seen people I started crying again.

Walking into the funeral was so hard. I did not go to the visitation. For the family, the visitation was open casket. I did not want to see my father like that. I did not want that to be the last image I had of him. So, seeing his casket at the front of the room and his favorite hat laying on top with this big display of red roses, I sobbed again. All of us cried. There was a big turn out. My dad was so well liked. There was about 150 people there. Granted when we had to walk out, I didn’t look at any of them. I kept my eyes down.

When we went to the cemetery, there was a bagpipe player. I took pictures. I did really good at the cemetery until the bagpipe player played Amazing Grace. Then I collected myself again. Then the firefighters did a “final call” for my dad. – If you are not familiar with this, what happens is: They radio for the person. Then silence. They radio again. Then silence. The third time they radio they call the person by name. – At the moment of silence I half expected to hear my dad’s voice. I expected this to be a sick joke. I expected to wake up from this nightmare. No, just silence. – Then they did a “10-7,” which is a “out of service at” code.

People walked by and hugged us. My ex came to the funeral. He walked up to me and gave me a hug. I bear hugged him and I could not stop crying. I buried my face into ex’s coat and cried. It felt like forever. I know it really was only a minute or two. I felt him try to pull away. It did make me giggle.

After most of the crowd was gone, ex and his mom came up to me and my daughter. Ex took a picture of my daughter and myself next to my dad’s casket. Then his mom started asking me questions: how bad was your dad cut up? did your mom get to talk to him.

I had to give ex the look: “you better get her away from me.” He took the hint. He gave me another hug and they left.

I tried finding a support group locally. Haven’t found a group. All of them stopped meeting for December and the holidays. So, I found a group online. I think I found an awesome group. I was greeted with open arms. I posted my story and introduction and I read through each of their comments. I felt better.

My daughter asked if talking about dad was the best thing to do. She asked if talking about him would not make me more sad. No, talking about him makes me so happy. He was a wonderful man, I want to tell everyone about him. Yes, I cry thinking about him. But I want to talk about him.

I have two people that I plan on contacting when I start to feel like talking on the phone. Both of them have known me forever – we all went to school together – but we haven’t talked in many years. But both of them have lost both of their parents. So, I want to talk to someone that understands.

There is a third person that I plan on contacting. Anyone that has read all of my posts will remember this guy. I have a major crush on him. I have had a crush on him since high school. He wants to do friends with benefits but we live five hours apart. But, he was in the military. I have talked to him on the phone and he was cried. So, I know I can let myself cry and talk to him without making him feel awkward.

Lots of people don’t know what to say or do around me. They say “I’m sorry” and walk away. I completely get that. But, I need someone I can cry around. I need someone that will listen to me.

***

I finally listened to the voicemail from my mom. That notification has been on my phone since Friday morning. I finally brought myself to listen to it. She was telling me that my dad was gone.

I am glad I did not listen to that voicemail on Friday. I could not imagine finding out that I lost my dad from a voicemail.

It took so long from me to bring myself to listen to that message because I knew what the message was going to be, but I did not know how much information it would provide.

Still Crying

I’m having moments were I’m doing okay. I looked at some pictures of my dad – had to pick some out for the slideshow – and I was able to laugh and smile. I shared them on my social media. My mom called me yesterday afternoon (about 2:30) and asked if I wanted to drive down. I went ahead and drove down. It was hard. A couple of people were there helping with funeral details.

The funeral has to be a closed casket because there was just too much damage done. However, during family visitation today the casket will be open. I can’t. I can’t see him like that. I don’t want the last memories I have of my dad to see how badly he looked. So, I have decided not to go to visitation. I hope I’m making the right decision. I already have so many regrets during this situation, I don’t want not going to visitation to be another regret.

Found out the guy that hit him head on had received a speeding ticket the day before the accident. He was clocked doing 102mph. He apparently threw the ticket in the ditch.

My daughter cried most of the way home last night. She shares many of the same regrets that I do (not telling him goodbye at Thanksgiving. deleting all of his texts, without knowing we would never receive another text from him. not making deviled eggs for Thanksgiving.) I explained is okay to cry. It is okay to grieve. It is okay to talk about my dad, to tell stories, to remember him.

One regret I’m really starting to have is inviting my ex to the funeral. I went back and forth of what I should do. It would be nice to have him there to help with our daughter. My dad did not like him. I don’t want any drama from ex, that’s for sure!

I found out some more funeral details. I kind of want to take pictures. Is that tacky? I want pictures – there is going to be a bagpipe player (one request I remember my dad made over and over, ever since I was a young child), and he was a firefighter so the firefighters are going to do a last call (I think is what it is called. right now I struggle thinking of the correct words). But the funeral is going to be gorgeous. There are going to be so many people. My dad was so well liked and loved by everyone. He had this smile that made you smile.

(I plan on writing a post about my dad. I just need more time to find the words and my thoughts.)

I still have a voicemail on my phone – it is from my mom on Friday. I know it was when she was at the hospital. I have not listened to it. I can not bring myself to listen to it. The middle child was there when she left the voicemail. He told me not to listen to it, ever.

Oh, about inviting ex to the funeral. There is not going to be a family car available to drive us to the cemetery. I know I am going to need to ride with someone. I know I will be able to drive back home, but I will need a ride so I do not have to think about driving at that moment. I asked ex if he was coming to the funeral. He said “yeah, probably.” I asked if my daughter and I could ride with him to the cemetery. He refused. I was so mad. I wanted to cuss him out. I wanted to tell him that I don’t want him back. I just want a ride from the funeral home to the cemetery. Maybe I should un-invite him.

Funeral

My dad’s funeral is going to be Tuesday.

Typing those words is so insane. I still can not believe my dad is gone. I can not believe I will never seen his smile or get to chat with him ever again.

Friday, when I went with my brother to get the things out of the car, I asked my brother if he thought it would be a closed casket. I seen the damage to the car. I could only imagine what condition my dad’s body was in. My brother figured it would be an open casket.

I found out yesterday, dad’s funeral has to be a close casket. I fell apart again. I try to stop crying, but I can’t. I did remember to eat yesterday. I haven’t slept more than a couple of hours. I’m still working and still taking my daughter to all of her activities. I want to keep functioning.

I have welcomed hugs from anyone willing to let me cry on their shoulder.

Since the funeral is closed casket, we are going to have a slideshow. I am so heartbroken. I do not have a single photo of my dad from 2018. Not one!

We always do a family photo on Mother’s Day. Well, this year I went to the ER on Mother’s Day. So, we did not do a photo. I was so tired and didn’t feel well. Then, we usually do a picture on Thanksgiving. I didn’t even get to tell my dad goodbye or give him a hug. He was so focused on mom. I have the regret of not telling him goodbye. I took for granted that I would see him on Christmas. Earlier last month, I deleted all the texts in my phone. I do that every few months to clear up space. I didn’t know I was deleting the last messages I will ever receive from my dad. I regret that so much.

I think about everything my dad is going to miss – My daughter turning 13 in a few weeks, for example. I break down again.

I invited ex to the funeral. I don’t know if that was the right choice or not, but I may fall apart. I may need help with our daughter. If he will be there and be supportive then I want him there. My dad did not like ex, but my dad would want my daughter and me to be happy and okay. I also know, if it was one of ex’s parents I would be at the funeral for him and my daughter.

Missing My Dad

I’m still in shock that he is gone. I haven’t really stopped crying. I forgot to eat for 24 hours. When I finally ate, I got so sick. I had my ex to help me tell our daughter. All three of us cried in the parking lot.

I took off work yesterday to go down to be with my mom and siblings. I went to get all the personal stuff out of the car. I threw up. I completely broke down seeing the sight of the car, and all his blood.

He was killed on impact. One driver hit him head on (police said this driver tested positive for drugs) and another driver (who was following way too close) ran into the back of the car. I’m glad he did not suffer.

I hate that Thanksgiving was the last time I will ever get to see my dad. And that visit wasn’t that good. I wish I could go back and hug him and tell him how much I love him.

People are asking me what they can do to help. I don’t know. I want my dad back. I want to talk to him again. I want a box of tissues and a hug from anyone, honestly!!

I am walking a fine line of how much do I allow myself to grief and how strong do I have to be for my daughter and the family. I forced myself to cook dinner last night. Neither of us ate more than a few bites. I almost wonder if it would be tacky if I asked all these people asking what they can do to help, if I asked them to bring food/dishes over that I could just heat in the microwave.

Parenting After the Divorce

I stayed in my marriage for so long, not because I was happy – actually, I was happy when ex was deployed or at work. We fought like cats and dogs during our marriage. – I stayed because of my daughter. I was afraid ex would take her from me. I did not want to raise her in a broken home. And, the scariest thought, I did not want ex to find another woman to replace me as my daughter’s mom.

I know my daughter is more responsible and independent because she has been raised in a divorced situation since she was seven years old. She has had to grow up, way too fast, because she would live between multiple houses. I know that is really hard on her, but I also know there is nothing I can do about that.

I stayed with ex for two years after my divorce. When I found out about girlfriend and them being intimate, I bowed out. I did not want to be a booty call, or have sloppy seconds. I did not want to continue to allow ex to use me for sex. It killed me. I fell into a deep depression. I know it impacted my ability to parent at times. I remember, my daughter not wanting to come with me one occasion. Guys, that is a feeling I never want to feel again. The thought of my child not loving me or not wanting to be with me.

Now, I know I am a great mom. I know my daughter loves me and knows she can depend on me.

I read an article last night about someone growing up and remembering their parents were always in the stands at everyone of their games and activities. And that is how I am with my daughter. I work crazy hours. I have a ton of gray hair from the stress. I have dark circles under my eyes from the lack of sleep. I worry about bills and money. I still fight with ex. BUT, I am there for my daughter. I am in the stands. I am cheering her on. I am supporting her. I am taking pictures.

Last night, ex came early to get her. He didn’t even bother telling me what time he was coming over. I only knew when to expect him because he texted our daughter. He really needs to grow a pair and communicate with his ex-wife. That’s why I occasionally lash out at him, because I let all of his stupidity and his annoying behaviors slowly build up until I can’t take anymore. Anyway, since he came early, my daughter and I did not have enough time to work on her homework. So, I told her to text me if she had any questions. I stayed up until almost 10pm waiting for a text from her. (I know that doesn’t sound late, but when you have to be at work at 3am, it is late.) I gave up and went to bed. I woke up with several texts from her asking for help with her math. Okay, I’m usually really good and quick with math. These problems were graphing linear equations from word problems. NOOOO! I hate word problems! So, I watch a couple of videos to refresh my memory on what the hell needs to be done to solve and I try to quickly sketch out the information to snap a picture and send to her.

It is not the parenting I dreamed of growing up. When ex and I got together, we talked about have 2-3 kids. I didn’t dream of having 1 child and having to help her with homework through texts, at her dad’s girlfriend’s house.

Christmas Event Invite

So, I got invited to a Christmas party. That has never happened in my life. I don’t get invited to things. I get overlooked and ignored.

A part of me wants to go. It does sounds fun. They go to dinner, have a gift exchange, and then do a scavenger hunt.

The other part of me is screaming “JUST SAY NO!” I won’t fit in. I won’t know anyone. What if I get stuck being alone? What if you’re suppose to bring a date?

Makes my anxiety start to make me panic thinking about the different reasons I should turn down the invitation.

The person that invited me is a single mom, too. She is divorced with three kids. She is not dating anyone right now. So, that information alone leads me to believe it will be okay showing up without a date. A gift would not be hard. I can go to the dollar tree and pick up some items easily. I don’t like eating in front of people. But I really doubt anyone would judge me for eating. They will all be eating. Plus, its a Mexican restaurant. So, everyone will be eating and chatting, in this energetic atmosphere. Not sure how the scavenger hunt will work. I fear it will be like being picked for playground games. But, if I go then I will be out of the house. Maybe make a new friend. Maybe meet a guy. I don’t know.

Guys

A different mood than yesterday’s post.

First, I had a dream about ex. I hate dreaming about him. Usually the dreams are sexual. Thankfully, this one was not. Instead, this dream we fought the entire time. We fought in a store. Then I went to help him paint “his” house – except it wasn’t his house, it was the house I grew up in. We fought while painting the house. We fought over the color of the paint, which was brown and a very bright blue (yes, I’m one of those that does dream in colors). We fought about my name.

What?

Legally, I still have ex’s last name. After the divorce, I tried to change back to my maiden name. I was told I did not have enough proof to do so. I have dealt with it. Oh well. I have the same last name as my daughter. If and when I get married again, I can change my name then.

If the dream, ex told me I did not deserve to have his last name.

I’m not sure what the dream means.

***

Online dating.

I hate online dating! It is so much like window shopping. I hate shopping. period.

It always sounds more fun than it really is. Can’t find anything in my size. Then get even more depressed because things do not fit. Everything is so expensive.

Yeah, online dating is the same way. Dating sounds so wonderful. Trying to find a relationship sounds wonderful. You scroll through all of these pictures. Find yourself looking for red flags. Wondering who is really single and who is a lying piece of shit. You find one that you think is attractive and so you message them. Then you get depressed because you get rejected.

So, yesterday…

I sent one message – again, I don’t like messaging first. Not a clue what I should say – but this guy reads my message, checks out my profile and then noting. Rejection.

Another guy messaged me. This one was an African American. Look I’m not opposed to dating black men I just never have before. This guy was attractive. He messaged me and asked if I dated black men. Told him I never had, but was not opposed to the idea. Next message he sent: You want to be mines.

Umm, no.

Had a zombie reappear. I will have to block him.

And, I messaged two other guys. Both had attractive pictures. Both are still in their twenties. Both messaged me back. Wow.

I don’t expect chatting with either of them to last too long. But, I am trying.

My daughter joked with me last night and told me my life was like a Hallmark Channel movie. Uh, no it’s not. If it was I would have a man in my life and everything would be picture perfect.

I’m not sure what my daughter sees to think my life is like a Hallmark Channel movie though.

“Hate” Post Cont.

**TRIGGER WARNING**

I wanted to continue writing on my post earlier, but I wanted to include a warning. So, I decided making a new post completely would be the best way to go about it. I know some of my thoughts could be triggering. So, no hard feelings if you cannot read this post.

Still thinking about being so stupid and sending that text to ex. I know I can’t change the past. Then feeling like everything I do is never “enough.”

Having rough thoughts last night and today. I want to shut down. I want to crawl into bed and sleep. I want to hide from the world. I want to cry. Honestly, I want to cut. I want to feel control of my emotions and of my pain. I want to see that bright red blood and know that I am alive. I want to know that I’m not just some empty shell of myself just going through the motions of life.

I look at my scars. I want to slice them open. I want to feel that physical rush instead of battling all of this emotional pain.

I can’t cut. I can’t burn. I have spent hundreds of dollars trying to slowly get my scars covered with tattoos. I am not going to destroy my tattoos. I don’t want to let my daughter see struggling. I don’t want her to look at me with disappointment.

I quit smoking fifteen years ago. I can’t pick that habit back up.

So, I turn to food. A horrible coping technique. Instead of starving myself, I binge. I do emotional eating. I eat until I forget my emotions. I hate being hungry. I starved myself growing up. The hunger pains never stop, you just learn to live with them. I hate reliving those memories.

I want to lose weight. I need to lose weight. But in order to do that, I have to control my eating. I have to stop being an emotional eater.

So, that means I need to think of another way to deal with my emotions.

Right now, I am seriously trying. This blog is one way – a healthy way – to express what I am feeling without being judged and badmouthed. I am using music right now too.

Currently, two songs are on repeat. Wolf in Sheep’s clothing – Set It Off. The Haunting – Set It Off.

One thing, a healthy option, that has really helped is my dog. I know my parents got the dog for my daughter, but he is my buddy. He is my shadow when my daughter is not home. He makes me have to function when I just want to disappear. I have to get up and go outside to take him out or take him for a walk.

When I think if I just kill myself and no one would miss me, I know if no one else misses me my dog and daughter will both be effected.

Hate

So, yesterday left me with this feeling of hate. I hate myself. I hate my life. I hate my ex. I hate his girlfriend. I hate raising a child in a broken home. I hate being broke. I hate being alone. I hate it all.

My daughter loves to go swimming. She decided she did want to go with ex and girlfriend to their “family get together.”

I cried.

I lost. I tried to be this fun parent, but how can I compete?

I know my kid loves to go swimming. I can’t swim. So, taking her to the pool is a horrible experience. I’m stuck sitting by the side of the pool, or wading in water that I can actually touch the ground. I’m too fat to do any slides or inner tubes.

I hate giving up my time with my daughter. But, it is not in my personality or character to be the type of ex-wife that keeps her children from their dad.

But, come on, one hour. I can swallow my pride, my hurt, my loneliness, all of my emotions and let my daughter go swimming for one hour.

Things never work like that with ex. One hour turns into two.

About the time he is supposed to bring her home, I get a text from him asking to keep her an additional hour so she can swim longer.

ARE YOU KIDDING ME?!?

Guys, I hate myself for what I did after that…

I let her swim for another hour. BUT I TEXTED EX MY FEELINGS!! WTF was I thinking?!?!

He sent me a text saying thank for. I said I didn’t do it for him. I did it because our daughter loves to go swimming. I was angry that he asked for my daughter for “family time” and took my only family on my day! I was angry that he tells my daughter that I yell at him. I hate that I still care about a man that doesn’t give a shit about me.

What?!?!

Did I text that?

Did I hit send?

Really?!?! WTH, Stormie? Why would you do something so bloody stupid?!?!

He responses that I do yell at him and if I had a problem with our daughter swimming then I shouldn’t have let her go.

ARRRGGHHHHHHH.

I HATE MY EX-HUSBAND!!

Then, found out a event I was pricing tickets for to take my daughter and me to, ex beat me to it. He bought all of them tickets. Really?!?