Who I was - Part II

While living on my own, I managed to attain stability and happiness - artificial as it may have been. While, admittedly, I was drinking too much and partying a little too hardy, I was surviving. I indulged myself socially only on the nights I was not parentally responsible, but indulge I did, and overly much. I took in some of the irresponsible lifestyle that I'd foregone by starting my family early. My daughter was always welcome at my Mother's on the weekends, but even so, it didn't last too long. After a relatively short time, I left that behind me. This didn't not happen before acknowledging my attraction to women, and crashing and burning at one dating relationship that terrified me enough not to try again.

After an excess of pressure from my immediate family and close friends whom were not fully aware of the reason I'd chosen to separate from my spouse, I reunited with him. We tried our relationship again for the sake of saying we tried. My child was now three, and if I was ever going to have another child, I wanted it soon, so we tried again and succeeded at a second daughter who was born healthy and happy.

The next year and a half was full of financial hardship, emotional struggles, and lies beyond comprehension (the lies coming from both sides). Then, in early 2010, my high school sweetheart and emotional adversary was arrested and eventually charged with three felonies; two counts of child molestation and then an unrelated count of theft. I have seen him once since the Judge's final ruling and it was out of an aching to ask, "why...?" While I was brave enough to speak to him, I never did ask my question. My soul hurt for the boy that he once was, and my sense of justice raged against the vile creature he had become.

With a counselor at my wing, $900 in cash, no child support, and two mediocre full-time jobs, I struck out on my own. I found an apartment, registered the kids for school, and soldiered on. This soldiering would eventually cost me, having missed only a single day of work for the ordeal I'd been though, knowing I couldn't fiscally afford it. The true cost would come later, as it so often does.

Who I was - Part I

My story is by no means simple, but I won't flatter myself by assuming that you care to hear every gory detail. I will, however, share the detail that I feel are relevant to my present state of life. I will try to keep it painless.

My childhood was not perfect, but it was good. My less-than-perfectly-functional family found a way to avoid killing one another and between my own parents and the families in our neighborhood, I managed to reach adolescence, young adulthood, then "maturity" (I use that word loosely) with relative success.

With a common desire to exit my parent's homes, I accepted the marriage proposal of my high school sweetheart (somehow just moving in together didn't seem reasonable because we went to church). 8 days prior to our December 1st wedding, we found out that we were pregnant. We didn't know how pregnant, but we were pregnant. That was a drama all its own, but in the end I was given the greatest gift of my life - my first child - so such drama is now void.

The day of my wedding, my sister looked me in the face and asked me quite clearly, "Is this what you want? If it's not, we can walk downstairs, get in my car & drive away. I will deal with the drama and the questions." Inside I wanted to take her up on it, but for what would not be the last time, what I was convinced was my civil duty to my child overwhelmed my intuition and primal instincts. Also not for the last time, I put on my ever-convincing fake smile and told her I was sure.

Nearly two years later, still struggling with post-partum depression and an undiagnosed thyroid disorder,  I found myself weighing 315 pounds. I buried myself in computer games, online chat, and food. I was hiding from myself. I attempted suicide by swallowing 250 tablets for IB profun, only to have my stomach pumped. I was a stay-at-home Mom who was not "allowed" to work, but in truth, the only person stopping me was... me. I readily blamed my husband, but I held myself back and used his refusal to support my employment as a prepared excuse.

Fast forward about 18 months... I am employed full-time merchandising beer & wine for a company I was referred to by my Uncle, over 100 pounds lighter, and living on my own with my one-year-old daughter. I am legally separated from my husband, dating a great guy named Ryan, and as happy as I feel I am capable of feeling. In retrospect, this was a mediocre, forced form of happiness, but at the time it was the best I knew.

Beginning of the Middle.

Whelp, regardless of the fact that my overwhelming desire is to word-vomit all over this blog page, I'm going to attempt not to overwhelm myself or whatever reader stumbles upon this information.

Let me start by saying to anyone who is here for the reason of having a strong relation to my story...

What doesn't kill you makes you stronger.

I am by no means a big Kelly Clarkson fan, and she wasn't the first one to sing it or say it, but the girl is right on. So, let's move on and get a little stronger from this, shall we?