Blogging Reluctantly

Our Life. Our Memories. My point of view on both. Captured here.

Valentines Day February 14, 2012

Filed under: Uncategorized — bloggingreluctantly @ 7:30 pm
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hubs the night of the father daughter dance, which he hates like poison. This photo is not flattering but it cracks me up. Being the husband of a photographer he frequently gets the camera shoved in his face. He usually makes this face to make me stop….which it doesn’t make me stop anyway! Today is Valentines Day. I love me some Valentines day, and on this day created to celebrate those we love it is natural to think of my Valentine. This guy….man this guy. He is a saint. Well he’s not a saint but he is darn close. Why he chooses to put up with me I’ll never understand but yet he still does. This year (well actually in 2011) he gave me the greatest gift EVER the chance to carry his child. How can you top that?? You can’t. No way. It’s an amazing thing. He really is the best blessing I’ve ever been given. Without him I can’t imagine where I’d be. I’m sure my life would have kept on but happily?? I doubt it. He’s supportive, kind, NOT a yes man for me..which to be honest I NEED that. He’s a great provider, good with the kids and is a short number of weeks away from being a first time dad (to his own flesh and blood) I can hardly contain my excitement for that day.

There will never be enough words, or emotions to express how much I adore him, appreciate him, love him. How he has the courage to still be my valentine I’ll never know but I’m so thankful he does!


Not related… February 9, 2012

Filed under: Uncategorized — bloggingreluctantly @ 2:38 pm

I have not or hell maybe I have discussed in this space my true disgust for my family I dunno but I’ve had one of those weeks, be it induced by hormonal issues or the fact that one of my siblings is mentally ill and decided to start a shit storm for no reason I don’t know but either way as what normally happens when you deal with the crazy YOU are left to be pissed off, THEY got what they wanted which was attention and then there YOU sit.  Back story is.  (FYI all of this is TRUE, I don’t lie…mentally ill people do, regardless if they are aware or their “sickness” prevents them from acknowledging it THEY DO)

I have no full blood siblings, I have a bunch of half siblings, I have 1 sibling that I talk to..and there are 6 of us.  I am the youngest.  Which by mere definition  means I am spoiled, privileged, or otherwise “golden”  I did not ask to be the youngest and if I could have picked parents I wouldn’t have picked the pathetic excuse for parents I had.  All of my siblings save for 1 treat / treated me like I was the chosen one…and hated me accordingly.  That is but one facet of the issues…but I wasn’t.  The one who started the problems recently was, if anything the more favored kid by our mother.  (we share a mother not a father)  This brother claims to have been molested (who knows so did my ex and it was all in an attempt to create an excuse for his problems, I rarely if ever believe anything bi-polar people say) did drugs, stole from our neighbors, went to jail, has wrecked cars from drinking and driving, has no valid drivers license..the list goes on.  He is the definition of a life wasted and then some time in 2004 some quack gave him the diagnosis of “bi-polar” which at that time you couldn’t swing a dead cat without hitting a bi-polar person. So he then had a reason for all of his problems, a safety blanket of SEE I told you I’m sick.  I think he has issues, but I think it is really an issue of impulse control.  He thinks it up and does, not thinking of what might happen.  Bi-polar or fuck up. YOU choose.

Not only did he obviously screw up his life, he caused wars between my parents who were his mother and step father.  My father is an abusive alcoholic, he was abandoned by his father and has not the first clue how to parent.  He grew frustrated by mothers inability to correct my brothers behavior, her standing by him despite what he needed was some tough love and fights would ensue.  BIG HUGE FIST FIGHTS THAT TERRIFIED ME AS A CHILD.  My idiot brother who I have since cut all ties with refuses to see why I have some lingering issues.  Sure my parents shouldn’t have done drugs, drank, and fought…but I also can see why my dad was irritated. Having your kids steal from your neighbors is embarrassing.  I.would.die.  My kids would be locked under the house and I would not just shrug my shoulders and say well whattayagonnado??

I honestly have PTSD from the violence I witnessed go on between the other 4 people in that house, whether the brothers were fighting with each other, or they were fighting with the parents, or the parents fighting with each other in a drug / alcohol rage…it was terrifying.  I would hide between the wall and my dresser and cram my fingers in my ears as hard as I could so I wouldn’t have to hear the fists and the yelling.  I can’t ever forget those no matter how hard I try and I also can’t forgive.   I’ve tried really hard over the years to hold on to the few scraps of family I had but in the end it just left me more angry and hurt that they aren’t what I need.   I seriously dislike them, I don’t understand them and I have no feelings other than pity.

I think it makes me more angry that he just doesn’t see what I’m saying.  That I NEED to cut ties with them all for me to be happy.  I can’t be in their space, I can’t be anywhere near them.  Just their presence makes me ill.  I’m uncomfortable around them.  Maybe it’s the lingering effects of childhood sneaking back up after all these years I don’t know but I do know that I just hate this brother of mine.  I want so bad for him to see how I felt to be a little kid, scared with all these adults fighting and having no where to go, no where to turn feeling helpless and stuck.  Does that sound like a privileged existence??? NO!!!

I am trying so hard to carve out my own little family.  A healthy happy marriage, and a stable calm home for my kids.  I haven’t done the best of job up until 2007.  Now things are perfect.  I think about my little Annabelle and promise her everyday that she won’t ever be scared like I was, or ever feel like she doesn’t have family.  The older I get and the better I do the more I hate my parents and this brother.  Maybe hate is poison but it’s how I feel right now.  I just want them to stay very very very far away from me and my family and never speak to me again.  Is that really that much to ask????