Wednesday, March 27, 2013

Can we really get past our past?

Hi, my name is Unbreakable, and I'm an alcoholic.

It pains me to write those words.  The fact that I have to admit that I had a drug and alcohol problem, hurts.  The fact that I couldn't find a healthy way to deal with my problems, hurts.  The fact that I had to hit rock bottom to make a foundation for the life that I need to be living, for me, as well as my daughter, hurts.

If you've been with me a while, or have read my previous blogs, you've had a glimpse into my life, but you don't know me, and you don't know my story.  I haven't had the greatest of lives.  Actually, my past sucks, and my present sucks even worse.  Anytime my friends complain about their [trivial] issues, I ask if they want to trade lives.  No.  No one wants my life.  Not even me.  I'm not the envy, of anyone.

I've never been to an AA or NA meeting.  I've never stood up in front of a group of strangers and said those words before.  So, here I am, for the first time ever, saying these words.  Do you know that you, in a way, are my support group?  I come here, I vent, and I leave feeling better.  So, thank you.


I know you've probably seen me post a lot on my facewhore page about having a drink.  Yes, I still have a drink now and then.  The only difference is that I don't drink currently to try and drown my problems; I drink in moderation because I enjoy drinking.  I've learned from my mistakes.  Well, I'm hoping I learned my lesson, because there's no guarantee for the future; there's always that possibility that I will fall into old habits.

Back to the past.

 As a child, I was emotionally abused.  As an adult, I was raped.  The woman I called mother for so many years has been physically violent with me as an adult.  I felt like I deserved all these bad things that happened to me.  I don't remember the majority of my childhood.  I have nightmares and flashbacks to certain traumatic events.  I have illogical fears of inanimate objects that I can't explain.  I stayed in abusive and toxic relationships because I justified the other person's behaviors. 

I'm a very damaged person.  And in my 30s, I have no idea who I am.  All I know, is who I'm not.  I was controlled and manipulated for so many years that I never became me; I became what everyone told me to become.  For so long, I let people persuade me into believing there was something wrong with me.  It was just recently that I'm realizing that my *personality issue* is simple: I never developed my own personality because I've been so dependent upon others, and I don't know how to be myself.

I let my past define my present.  I let my past shape the person I became.



Okay, back to the present.

Hi, my name is Unbreakable, and I suffer from PTSD.

Does our past define our future?  Can a person who has been through a multitude of severe traumas over a lifetime ever be *normal*?


I've been trying to change for so long, but it's hard when you don't know where to begin.  But the first step here is walking away from the toxic relationships.  Done.  The second step is seeking professional help.  Appointment scheduled.  And the third step, is not just a journey to find myself, but to find who I want to be.  Okay, that's where I shall begin.

It's going to be a long, uphill battle.  And I hope you are still here when I reach the top.

Monday, February 25, 2013

Don't Have a Cow!

Or maybe batshit crazy bitch might, the world doesn't know yet...

BSCB is pregnant, by the way.  That is an important piece of information you need to know in the beginning; otherwise, you might miss half of the story.

It all began with a discussion a while back regarding bedrooms at assclown's house.  Out of the blue, minion began rambling off where the baby is going to sleep, depending on the sex. 

"It'll sleep in my room if it's a girl, and it'll sleep in multigrain's room if it's a boy."  (multigrain is in reference to minion's step brother; she made a comment about being 'whole white' one day, as if she were a piece of bread).

Under his breath, my dad mumbled "What if it's a cow?" and laughed amongst the other adults within earshot.

"Then it'll sleep in the barn where it belongs!"  A wild uproar of laughter enveloped her.  "What's so funny?!  That's where cows belong!  In the stinky barn!"

'Damn her Vulcan hearing!' I thought as I turned to my dad and said "The appropriate vernacular for half-man, half-bull is Minotar."



*******

Weeks pass, and all of us adults are in *family therapy.*

Assclown and BSCB got there a few minutes early, and were back in the office discussing *issues* with the doctor.  I overheard talks of a "half cow baby" walking down the hallway to the office, and knew it was going to be an interesting session.

We take our seats, not even bothering to exchange pleasantries.

"Unbreakable, there's been concerns that you've made bestial comments regarding BSCB's unborn child."

(Being caffeine deprived and it being a morning appointment, I was a little bitchy and felt the need to make a provocative comment)  "So, Doctor, I understand the question, but to make sure we're all on the same page here, could we leave this discussion at a 12th grade reading and comprehension level, maximum?  I believe that's the highest grade completed by all parties present."

"You told minion I was going to have a cow for a baby!!!"

"Well, technically, you could only have a full-blown cow if you were a cow yourself.  I think you meant to say half-cow."

"Ladies."  The Doctor chimes in.  "Unbreakable, there is no need for provocative comments, and BSCB, there's no need for yelling or accusatory statements."

"Doctor, are you going to scold BSCB for all of her past provocative comments that didn't provoke me in the past?!" *long, stare of death from the Doctor* "Then please don't scold me.  She should've controlled herself better.  She tried to provoke me, multiple times before, and failed.  I tried, and was successful, 30 seconds into the session.  If she doesn't like it, then she shouldn't do it.  Case and point."

"Anything to add to this BSCB?"

*I feel her eyes peering through me*

*in a calmer voice* "I feel like she called me a heifer."

"I in no way called her a heifer, nor did I insinuate she was a heifer.  Heifers have to be able to birth calves, of which she does not possess the capability.  You don't plan on birthing a calf, correct?"

*Doctor spits out his coffee*  "Unbreakable..."

"I'm sorry, was I wrong to correct her?" (yes, I love to play dumb)

Assclown has his head between his hands.  I'm unsure if he was trying to control his laughter, or to ascertain the surreal aura this meeting had attained.

"Unbreakable" the Doctor chimed in "did you tell minion that BCSB was going to have a half-human, half-cow baby?"

"You mean a Minotar?"

*interrupting my statement*  "SEE, SHE DID IT!  SHE EVEN KNOWS WHAT IT'S CALLED!"

"My apologies for being a Greek mythology aficionado.  So I assume we are to believe everything that minion *allegedly* tells us?  Because, if I'm not mistaken, I think she once told her preschool teacher she had a pet unicorn."

"BCSB, please stop making accusations.  We ask, we don't accuse until we have proof.  Unbreakable, did you tell minion BCSB was going to have a Minotar?"

"No.  I would've answered previously, but I was cut short."

"How do you think minion got this idea?"  inquired the Doctor.

"She's 6.  Her mind wanders.  She has a creative imagination.  I like to watch the History, Science, Discovery, and NatGeo channels.  I have the series 'Clash of the Gods' on my DVR, and Minotar is one of the shows.  Minion is very intelligent because we don't just read books about puppies and watch lame cartoons.  We actually learn interesting stuff."

"Children need to be children!"  snapped BSCB.

"Please don't tell me how to parent my child.  I'm not holding her back.  Because the second she wants to go be a little girl, she has every right, and I give her that right.  I'm just affording her the opportunity to be a sponge, in a healthy way."

*******

So, I lied a little.  Who's going to know?  I mean, I was the only one who was there when it was said.  Well, and the 4 people who read this, but since no one knows who I am, I'm okay with that.  I'm pretty sure you think this is fiction, anyway.  This, folks, is my life.

Saturday, November 3, 2012

Click. Click. Boom.

T minus 15 minutes.  Our time together is coming to an end. She's having such a good time that I don't want to spoil it by telling her that he's coming to pick her up.  How much longer can I wait?

As she's swinging on the swings and playing with her friend, I ask the neighbor to watch her while I slip away inside to gather her belongings.  I unlock the gun safe, and put my gun in the back of my pants.

T minus 7 minutes.  I tell her that he'll be here any minute.  As I watch her demeanor change from that of happy and carefree to that of scared and worried, I feel my heart begin to beat faster and faster.  She has tears in her eyes.  Don't make me go mommy.  We can run away and he'll never find us mommy.

T minus 3 minutes.  She's lost any interest in playing.  She's crying.  She's sitting on my lap begging me not to send her there.

As I hold her, I have no comforting words.  All I can do is reassure her that I love her.  I can't tell her it'll be okay.  I can't tell her she'll be safe.  Because deep down I know that's a lie.

He pulls into the drive.  She hears his vehicle.  She runs and hides.  He waits in the car because he's too much of a coward to come to the door.  A minute passes and my phone rings; I don't answer.  She's hiding under the stairs, and I can't get to her.  My phone rings again; I answer with a "either you get your ass in here and peel her off the furniture she's latched on to or hold your fucking horses!" which is responded with a "oh, I'll wait here."  Fucking coward.  She obviously hates him and hates going there.  Why does he waste his time?  To torment the poor child, that's why.  Fucking sociopath.

After several minutes of vigorously fighting with her, she's pried out of her hiding place.  It's like this every visitation.  I have to be the bad guy and force her to go.  It breaks my heart.

As I carry her to his car, she's crying.  Please mommy no.  He hurts me mommy.  As I fight back the tears, I put her in her booster seat.  She's kicking and screaming, and he's sitting there with a shit-eating grin on his face.  He enjoys every second of this.  Fucking sociopath.

I give her a hug, and she won't let go.  I give her a kiss, and she holds on tighter.

Something in me just snaps.  I can't send her there.  I whisper "earmuffs" and she lets go.  I calmly smile at her.  It's as if the world is about to make sense again.

He turns forward and puts the car into reverse without me even having stepped away from the vehicle.  I reach into the back of my pants and pull out my gun.  She smiles and covers her ears.

Click.  Click.  Boom.

I'm shaking.  She's crying.  My ears are ringing.  I feel warmth all over my body.  What have I done?

I look at my hand and see my own form of justice.  My hand-held judge did more in one second than the judge in my case has ever done. 

I look around.  Are there witnesses?  Now what?  Do I turn myself in?  Do I run?  I didn't think things through.  What will her future be like?

And then a moment of true serenity.  It's all over.  Whatever is to come now is better than anything that we've been dealing with for years.



"Mommy!"  I hear her scream.  Reality sets in.  There's no blood spatter.  He's still sitting there, his head intact.  It was all a daydream.  "You're on my time, unbreakable.  I'll have my attorney file a contempt motion if you don't let go!"  He can't even look me in the eyes when he talks to me.  "Yes, let's discuss adult matters in front of minion.  Great idea.  And if you ever decide to file that motion, I'll just make you drag her ass out of the house from now on, mmmkay?!  Would you like to start with today?  Because I have no problem taking her out of the car right now!"  "I've got to go."  "That's what I though."

I hear her scream for me after the door is shut.  I hear him yell expletives at her.  "Shut the hell up, or I'll fucking give you a reason to cry!"  I want to run after her, but I know I won't be able to do anything.

As he backs down the driveway, my hand rests on my gun.  I see her crying, reaching out for me.  It's hard to watch her having to leave my care and go off with a man who beats and molests her.  It's hard for me to know that the court is aware of the abuse, and they do nothing.  It's hard for me not to blow his brains out every single time we cross paths.

It's difficult to be a law abiding citizen when you know your child is in harm's way.  But I behave myself.  And so does my child.  All I'm asking is for someone to reward us for our good behavior.  Am I asking for too much in life?

Saturday, October 20, 2012

the princess and the wicked step mom

If you're anything like me, you watched the Disney classics growing up like Cinderella or Snow White and the Seven Dwarfs.  As an adult, have you ever really examined the context of these cartoons?  I know I have, but mostly because I'm a Neuroscience major, and I'm taking a lot of psychology classes.

Take a look at the classic Disney princesses: Aurora, Cinderella, Snow White, Jasmine, Belle, and Ariel.  I'm ignoring Tiana because she's fairly recent.
  • Aurora is the only princess who has both parents, but isn't raised by them
  • Snow White and Cinderella both have wicked step mothers
  • Jasmine, Belle and Ariel have no mothers

What are we subconsciously telling our daughters?  That the only way to grow up to be a princess is without a mother in their lives?  That the only way to become a princess is to have a wicked step mother?  That the way to find true love is to find a strange man in the woods or on a sandy beach?

Now, this blog has the potential to go one of many different ways.  But I want to talk about the nasty connotation 'step' has in these children's cartoons.

If you've been with me for a while, you probably know my struggles with minion's batshit crazy step mom.  Now, because of my issues with this court case, I have had a difficult time coming to terms with the fact that not all step moms are bad.  Minion has the same problem.

I know some wonderful women who struggle daily with the fact that they are deemed a 'step' parent; they're bribing the child if they buy them something, but they're mean if they enforce rules.  It seems there's no happy medium.  At times, the biological mom has put ideas into the child's head about the step mom and the dad.  It really boils down to the fact that it's a petty rivalry.

My issues are more complex, and we won't discuss them here; it's far beyond the scope of this blog.

Back to the sane people.

Step is a four letter word.  It's a label.  I have lots of labels.  But they do not define me as a person.  And this label should not define these mothers (and fathers) abilities to be parents.  But society has told us from a young age how to view these people.

Are we poisoning our children's minds?

I'm not saying every parent, whether biological or step, is worthy of praise or criticism.  I'm also not saying that a movie or two is going to push our children into forming judgments.

What I am saying is that we need to remember that children can pick up on subliminal messages.  What I am saying is that children absorb everything like a sponge.  What I am saying is that children are easily persuaded.

We just need to be careful what we are exposing our children to.  Otherwise, they can be judging people for the rest of their lives without wanting to, or knowing that they're doing so.

Our children need to learn how to form their own opinions of people.  And we, as a society, need to stop telling them how to think.

Tuesday, October 16, 2012

how well do you know unbreakable?

If you remember, about a month ago, I was awarded the Liebster Blog Award: I thought I blogged just to bang the keys.  I was just awarded this same award again by the beautiful That's Mrs. Step Mom to you! (Step'n up for Step Parents)!  Go Unbreakable!

Since I've already gone through all the motions of nominating other blogs, I figured I'd change it up a bit; I will post 11 things about myself, and answer the 11 questions my nominator has for me.  How well do you know the unbreakable mom?

Here goes.

First, my 11 questions.

  1. Are you a morning person or a night person?
    More of a night person, but I never rule out mornings... that's when I get to drink coffee.
  2. What is the craziest thing you’ve ever done?
    That shit was illegal, so I'll refrain from answering.
  3. Name one person you love the most and one person you hate the most.
    I love minion the most.  I hate the judge in my court case the most.  Yes, this might come as a shock to those of you who have heard my rants and raves about assclown and his batshit crazy wife.  But, I hate her the most for her rulings.  She punished minion.  She abused her powers in the legal system.
  4. If we were a couple and we had a fight, how would you try to patch things up?
    Buy you bacon.  Isn't that the answer to everything?  But on a more serious note, communication.  Talk things through.
  5. What is the funniest prank played on you or played by you?
    Filled a guy's car full of foam peanuts.  That, or put hotdogs and eggs on someone's car and seran wrapped it.
  6. If given a choice, which animal would you want to be? Why?
    The hippo.  They're just awesome.  Go watch a documentary on the Discovery Channel.  (I mean I would've chosen a unicorn, but who really wants to shit rainbows and stab fucktards with their horn?!)
  7. Who was your first crush? Did you ever tell him/her about your feelings?
    Me.  I mean, I'm hot and awesome.  Besides myself, probably the neighbor across the street.  Don't even remember his name.  I used to beat him up a lot.  Does that count as me telling him?
  8. If you could have a luncheon with any three people (real or fictitious/from any time period/dead or alive), which three people would you choose and why?
    Sheldon Cooper - he's just hilarious
    Ray Charles - amazing musician that overcame huge obstacles in his life
    Le Corbusier - fascinated by his work
  9. Which is your most cherished childhood memory? What kind of kid were you, naughty or nice?
    Being accepted into a prestigious art school.
    I was a good kid.
  10. If given complete freedom to start afresh, what profession would you choose and why?
    I'm doing that right now; I'm studying Neuroscience.  I'm just like a zombie; I only like people for their brains.
  11. Ninjas or pirates?
    Ninjas.  How is this even up for debate?  OOOH, ninja pirates!!!
Now, my 11 fun facts.

  1. I can't have my back to a door, or a walkway; you should see me walk around my house.
  2. I've been wearing glasses since I was in elementary school.
  3. My favorite color is gray.  I know, pretty bland.
  4. I have a fear of red doors; I had a nightmare when I was little that involved red doors and clowns, although I have no issues with clowns today.
  5. If someone plays a note on an instrument, I can tell them specifically which note it is without looking.
  6. I have never seen any of the Star Wars movies.  Please don't hold it against me... I've been meaning to watch them for so long, I just never get around to it.
  7. I have a heart-shaped mole on my chest, where my heart is.
  8. I'm ambidextrous.
  9. I don't eat turkey.  Thanksgiving is a meatless holiday for me.
  10. When one of my socks goes missing or has to be thrown out, I save the other... I don't have to wear matching socks.  It's not because I'm trying to start a new fad... I'm just too cheap to buy new socks until they're all gone.
  11. I don't care how many times I've seen episodes of the big bang theory or family guy, I will watch them over and over again... I like to see what I missed the first few times.

Thursday, October 11, 2012

I just can't do it. I just can't do it. I just can't do it.

As I say this, I close my eyes, and I *click* my heels together.

I needed to go to a less stressful place.

Today I made a difficult decision.  It was one that I thought I wasn't going to have to make, but ultimately, it was the only option; I had to drop my class.

You've heard the horror stories of my asshat teacher.  You know, the one who humiliated me one day in class, then let me go almost halfway through the semester without informing me that there were daily assignments online that I hadn't submitted that weren't on the syllabus.

Let's back it up to my reasoning behind going back to school.

If you've read my blogs, you know that I've been through a great ordeal with minion, and minion's been through more in her few years of life than some people will ever go through: the more I take assclown to court for abuse and neglect, the more the time the court gives him, although I've always had documentation and medical experts.  It doesn't make sense.  But this post isn't about that.  Go check out the rest of my blog.

I lost a year of my life, drowning my sorrows in booze and prescription drugs.  Now don't get me wrong, when minion was with me, I NEVER TOUCHED THE STUFF.  But when she was over there, I was lost.  A part of me was missing.  I wasn't whole.  But I learned that the solution to my problems wasn't at the bottom of a bottle.  I sobered up.  I'm still fighting for her.  And with that, I realized I needed to better myself.  This is why I'm back in school. 

I began checking out colleges and universities in August.  I had no idea which one I wanted to attend.  I had no idea what major I wanted to pursue.  I did a lot of research on the internet.  Finally, I just picked one at random, and called.  I went and met with admissions, did the whole interview/application/transcript process.  Then I attended orientation, and that's when I finally got to speak with someone who pointed out an awesome degree for me (only after discussing past jobs/college courses/likes/dislikes/desires/etc).  I got accepted 4 days before classes began, and registered for classes 3 days beforehand.  Yep, I like to do everything last minute.

The class that I'm dropping isn't one of my core classes; it's actually one that I'm not even required to take.  EVER.  It's not exactly an elective;  it's a class from a list of many, many, many other choices of optional required classes.  Clear as mud?  Good.  Since I signed up so late, my options for classes, especially ones that fit my schedule, was almost non-existent.

Looking over the syllabus, my teacher drops one letter grade per 2 classes missed.  My car broke one day.  I had to meet with my attorney another.  He counted me absent the day I walked out of class when I vomited everywhere.  Plus, I have an upcoming court hearing on a day this class meets.  So, I'm already looking at a 'C' if I ace everything.  I have to get a 'C' to get credit for this class for my degree.  Plus, my make-up work will literally take me a 3 day weekend of nothing but sitting there doing only this homework.  That means I have to bust my butt.  That means I basically have to get a 100% on everything.  That's too much work on top of all of my other school work, AND my personal life.  I'm not going to pass.  Plain. And. Simple.

Half of my tuition this semester is paid for by either grants or scholarships.  I'm a fairly bright person, and I take pride in this.  Since it's so late in the semester, now I have to withdraw from the class.  Hopefully, this won't affect my future abilities to obtain student loans, or be granted scholarships or grants.  But I couldn't afford to have it permanently affect my G.P.A., or be on my academic record.

Now, I have more time to focus on my other classes.

Don't get me wrong.  When it comes time to enroll for classes next semester, I hope that I will get the opportunity to take this class again.  Not because I already bought the books, but because I want to be able to finish something I started.  I want to do it right.  That, and I'll have one up on the other people in the class.

This, is a HUGE load off my shoulders.

Tuesday, October 9, 2012

altered reflections and outside appearances

Fine lines.  Gray hairs.  Dark under eye circles.  Large pores.  Love handles.  Cellulite. When I look in the mirror, all I see are the flaws.  I don't see my outer beauty. I guess it's so easy to focus on what's wrong with you when that's all you've known your entire life.  It's even harder to see the "real" you; the person on the inside.  Wouldn't it be nice if there was a mirror or pair of glasses that allowed us to see a person's "true beauty?"

People think that I hold a grudge against my mother for what she did to me growing up.  I hold nothing against her for what she did.  That doesn't mean she was wrong.  That doesn't mean she was right.  That doesn't mean she deserves forgiveness.  It just means I don't give a damn.  Don't get me wrong.  Just because I haven't forgiven her doesn't mean I'm holding a grudge.

Minion and my mother are very close.  This upsets me.  Partly because my mother never established a relationship with me, and with that, I felt as if she were trying to make up for how she screwed up with me.  But mostly, I feared the inevitable; that one day she too would hurt minion, just as she had hurt me.

History is bound to repeat itself, correct?  History, in itself, has taught us this.  I wanted to be optimistic that my mom wouldn't be a bitch to minion.  But I was wrong.  Just recently, she hurt her.  Badly.  Minion cried.  It broke both our hearts.  It was my childhood all over again.  The difference between minion and myself?  Minion loves my mother.  I don't.

Growing up, my mother was all about appearances.  She always cared about what people thought of her.  It was never family first with her.  It was all about putting on a show for everyone else.  People at her work, people at our church, people at our schools... how they saw and perceived my mother was of utmost importance.  She didn't give a damn how she really was behind closed doors, at home.  And we had to keep up the appearance in our lives; we had to 'fake it' and pretend we lived this awesome life at home, even though it was horrible.

I always tried to protect minion.  But, I didn't stop her from having a relationship with my mother.  I honestly sat there and waited for my mother to screw up.  I know, that was wrong of me, but I knew it was bound to happen.  Minion had to learn on her own, just like I did.  Life lessons and experiences hurt, especially at 6, and especially after all she's been through.

It pisses me off that my mom would be so selfish.  It's bad enough that minion has to suffer through all the bullshit she goes through already, but for someone she loves to put her through more?  Enough is enough already.

The momma bear came out in me.  I went off on my mom.  I bitched her out.  I told her she needed to pull her head out of her ass and get her priorities straight.  I told her it's one thing to treat me the way she does, but to treat a damaged child that way?  I told her she doesn't deserve minion in her life.  I told her that if she doesn't get her act together, that one day she'll wake up and me and minion will be gone.  I told her she didn't see the tears that she was causing.

I wish we could have the ability to see people's true self.  That way, it would be easier to know how ugly someone truly is.