justjosiane-blog

[justjosiane-blog]

Book of the week: Thirteen Reasons Why by Jay Asher

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[justjosiane-blog]

[justjosiane-blog]

Am I a nagging housewife?

Well, wife, not quite yet. Due to some legal issues hanging over our heads.

Mr. Bury, the love of my life has sold his soul to a small business man. His mother claims he has ALWAYS devoted his life to work. I respect his loyalty to his job and supporting us. I admire it greatly. BUT, when will I be taken off the back burner?

Ī grew up with three sisters and a single mother. aka we were poor AF. I am forever grateful for my childhood, I can find the best deals in town, I know all about home remedies and making life livable with little to no resources. I have always been rich in happiness.

My hardworking provider sees it differently. We indulge in nice things, our fridge is always full and our yorkie, Ash, has it better than most children in the US. But I am experiencing an emotional void. I fell in love with this man because of his passion, his humor and his intelligence. When he is working 65+ hours a week, it is hard for me to embrace his personality. 

Some nights I sit alone in our perfect kitchen and I chain smoke, counting down the minutes to his arrival. I feel pathetic. I feel like my life lacks purpose. I grew up with the notion of money is the root of all evil. But here I sit knowing Mr. Bury needs more money to give me all I need, but I just want to spend the weekend in bed. What battle do I choose?

[justjosiane-blog]

We get it, I fucked up. Let’s not replay it.

Between the ages of 11 years old and 22 years old I did a lot of damage. I damaged my body, my values, my spirituality, my mental health, my relationships and everything else that was important. I totaled a few vehicles, got booked into the county jail a few times, quit going to college, used people... this list could forever continue. 

The point is, I got fucking tired. I had nothing.I had no one. I went to a local halfway house and I asked for help. I pleaded and cried for help. This was my second treatment center in 2015. My grandmother did not agree with this choice. She thought it was weak and I could fix myself. I tried that.. for 11 years.

Long story short, I met the man of my dreams in that beautiful cinder block daycare center for adults. We got our shit together. We maintained full-time jobs, I returned back to college, we got our first place, we stayed healthy and we truly loved each other. We both knew darkness and thrived on each others light. 

BUT-- there is always a catch. My family helped us out in dire times, however we can never seem to hear the end of it. My grandmother told me today “You fuck up everything, you break all that you touch.” She loves to bring up how much money I have lost in the past, how many cars I have been through and how much legal trouble I’ve encountered. My aunt will tell my sisters how I am unreliable and how much damage I have caused them. Here is the really fucked up part... All of it continues to get swept under the rug.

The females on this side of the family will cut you with their words and carry on as if we have the most wonderful life. The verbal abuse continues to mind fuck me. They make me feel as if I am the size of an ant. As if all my accomplishments are invalid because my past is so severe. As if mocking all my flaws would contribute to a positive recovery process, 

I have come to the conclusion, they are control freaks, they are manipulative and vindictive people. I am a human, I am no longer a lifeless soul roaming the earth. I have made mistakes and I have done everything in my power to fix them. I will no longer be a victim of social torture. This is not family, this is a ferocious pack of dogs preying on the weak. Bloodline or not. I respect myself to much to allow them to abuse me. So today is the day, I set a far line between me and evil.