life-of-esdie-blog

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I live in such a beautiful place

[life-of-esdie-blog]

Adulting

Lately, I’ve come to realize, adulting is hard.  Like really fucking hard. I’ve told my parents more than once how I feel about it. They think it’s funny, in a sympathetic way... because they totally get it. At one point my mom sent me a few books. All about adulting. She told me before hand and said that she thought it was funny, but  thought that  the books might  also be helpful.  I instantly put them on my bookshelf and haven’t  touched them. A few days ago, I decided to open one. 

It’s called Almost Adulting. It’s by Arden Rose. I finished it within three days. Was a really good book and I really felt like I could relate to her. That we had some similar outlooks and situations. RECOMMEND for sure. Even if you can’t relate exactly to the extremes of some of her situations or where she is coming from, all of it can still apply to your life in some sort of way.

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Relationships

I struggle with relationships. Not just in the dating sense, with friends as well. I have always struggled with this specifically, but it’s getting worse. I think it started with my family. Don’t get me wrong, I love my family. Especially now more than I ever have. My parents didn’t have the best relationship. They still struggle. I get it now, but when I was younger, it was hard. I was Daddy’s little girl. I looked up to him more than anything. Woke up at 5am just to watch him get ready for work. He worked a lot. And then, coached my brothers football and baseball. I was always jealous. I played soccer. He was not about it. I felt like I was always letting him down. I would have killed to play football. And wrestle. He loved being around those and everything else my brothers did. (even though my oldest brother isn’t even his child). I always did everything I could to try to impress him but, I always felt like I was failing. Then there was my mom. My mother grew up without a mom. She was the oldest of three, and had a hardcore dad. When i say my grampa was hardcore, I mean... I was actually scared of him until like, a year ago? I’m 27... She was the mom of the house for most of her life. She moved out when was 16 and moved into her fiance’s house. Yes, I said fiance... at 16. They didn’t get married, but she did get married at 19? and had a child. After living with her mom in Texas for a while. She got divorced young. Met my dad, got pregnant and got married. All by the age of 22. Her life has always been pretty difficult. I think when she had me, she was so freaking excited that she was having a girl. When I was little, she spent hours brushing my hair, putting curlers in it, painting my nails, picking out TERRIBLE outfits for me to wear. She was so excited to have a girl in her life. Which took me a long time to realize. I think she was extremely disappointed when she realized I hated all the girlie stuff. Me and my mom always had a strained relationship. With how she grew up, and how I just wanted to be another one of the boys, I think it made it really hard. And then, when she tried to be there for me... I wanted nothing to do with it. She tried to talk to me about my friends, how I felt about things... everything. I wanted to talk about nothing. She was angry. She still is. When life is a constant struggle, it makes it hard to smile sometimes. Growing up with both my parents, fighting constantly, was the worst. All of us, including my two brothers, all had anger issues. Although we were all “happy” and good kids, we did not know how to express ourselves correctly. My brothers and I didn’t really have great examples for it. My parents were always yelling. All the time. I used to go down to the basement with my brothers and cry while they tried to be there for me. It wasn’t fun. I started to resent my dad. My mom... she kinda turned to me when she needed to vent. It was not a good situation. I started to resent my dad. Like really, really resent him.

I always had friends growing up. Especially the kids around my neighborhood. We hung out almost every day. Pretty much all of them were guys. It was a freaking blast. We lived on a big dead end circle. Played football, wiffle ball, basketball, man hunt, street hockey, biked, scootered, skateboarded. It was amazing. But I struggled when I got mad. Or felt left out. I know now that it started to not be enjoyable to be around me. This ended up happening with a lot of my friendships. And didn’t stop there. I had my stupid little boyfriends in elementary and middle school. Eventually, I would start questioning myself though. Never felt like the pretty, popular girl. Always felt like I was almost the girl but never actually good enough. It continued to make me struggle and put a strain on all of my relationships. In middle school, I started to realize, I wasn’t into a lot of the things the girls in my class were. We would go to the mall together and they would want to buy thongs. I would buy them, but I hated them. HATED. Along with all the other girl things. I stopped trying to fit in so much. Started wearing converse. Listening to the music I wanted to listen to. Dressed more punk. The girls I thought were my friends started to make fun of me. I still went out of my way to try to impress people. In other ways. I bent over backwards for people.

Come high school, I was taking notes for guys in class. They would talk to me about their problems with their girlfriends. High school, kinda sucked. Had a few not so actual boyfriends. But was really mostly the kinda friend when it was convenient  for people. I had 2 best friends in my hometown. Most of my really close friends were from the camp I went to since I was 7 every summer.They weren’t always easy to see. Traveling to them kinda sucked.

Once I left high school, I went to college in Arkansas. I was so excited to start over. I was getting attention from everyone. Had so many friends. Then, I started to make bad decisions. Met a local guy from town... and he was involved in some things. Then I started dating his best friend. He was a huge drug dealer. But he gave me the most attention from anyone I’ve ever gotten. He even bought me a puppy for my birthday. I said fuck you to my family, my best friends from back home.... it was terrible. Got into drugs. Stopped going to class. Moved in with him. I was around things I never thought I could ever be involved in. We got arrested. Placed at an armed robbery. After hours of being interrogated, I finally caved. The cops tricked me to turn on him. If I didn’t think things were bad before this situation (even though I still loved him), they turned terrible. He started beating me. Cheating on me every chance he would get, disappear for days at a time. One time he even pulled his AK47 semi-automatic banana clip gun on me. Literally laying there crying while he yelled at me and threatened me. That night, his cousin told me I deserved better. He tried to hit on me. So even though he was just telling me I deserved better so he could get in my pants... I decided I had enough. Called my parents and told them to buy me a ticket home. I needed out.

This was just the beginning. I went on a downward spiral. Always picked the bad guys. Always fucked up with friends, because well, I sucked. And the worst part? Continued doing drugs. My capability to have a functioning relationship was at this point... impossible. I trusted no one. A lot of times, I subconsciously screwed it up on purpose, just so I didn’t get hurt first. I still got hurt constantly. I bent over backwards for every guy still. Got excessively angry every time I felt like I wasn’t being appreciated.

I had two boyfriends that were really good friends of mine for a while before we started dating. It was a huge mistake. I was a mess. And so were they. One was an alcoholic. One was a recovering heroin addict.

The alcoholic, I dated for 2 years. We fought all the time. Including in front of friends. At parties, in the house that we lived in with a bunch of friends, it was a hot mess. We started becoming abusive with each other. Eventually the cops got called on us by one of our neighbors. We both got arrested. Got forced to take drug and alcohol classes by the state. We both moved home, into my parents house, together. I don’t have any idea why we thought it was still a good idea to be together. We had problems. My parents even said we needed to stop drinking so much. I told him he needed to move to his parents house. Eventually the way he treated me, I just completely stopped caring. I was distant. One day, he was calling me every 5 minutes crying and I just ended it.

The heroin addict... apparently had been wanting to date me for 3 years. I had no idea. When I first met him he had been sober for a year. When we finally started hanging out a LOT more, it finally came out. I was beginning to have a crush on him when he told me. He had relapsed a while back, but I didn’t see anything wrong with it. And partied with him and our best friend all the time. We fell in love fast. He finally decided he wanted to get clean. I was buying him suboxin all the time. He was coming to my job to get it because he couldn’t keep a steady job. Especially that paid well enough to cover his drug habit. I babied the shit out of him. When his parents accused him of using drugs again, I convinced my parents he needed to move in. I sat with him and held him during all his detoxing. As this was going on, I found out my alcoholic ex, was posting pictures of me online. And my phone number with it. I was starting to get harassed. A lot. He started getting pissed. We fought constantly. He finally moved back in with his parents. One night, me and my parents got into a huge fight. Me and my mom got physical. Then my dad grabbed me and threw me against a wall. My ex’s parents loved me. They let me move in. When things were good between us, things were fucking amazing. I miss those amazing times still. When things were bad though... they were bad. I was still always there for him. He was still struggling with his drug use. One time, after we fought about pictures and my past... he went out and did a shit ton of heroin. I saw his truck at one point but not him. Waited a while... then I started looking around the house. Finally I found him in his truck. Passed out and blue in the face, he was ODing. I tried to pull him out of his truck... but he weighed 2x what I did. I ran in to get his dad and had to beg him to help me. Both of his parents were done with his drug problems. He had put them through a lot. He finally came out and helped me pull him out... then he walked back inside. I called 911 and they talked me through giving him CPR while I was panicking and crying until the ambulance got there. We started going to AA together after that. My drinking had gotten pretty bad, and him almost dying... ya know. Things were still bad, but for a bit... things were going pretty well. Then we decided to move across the country. Connecticut to Oregon. My brother and sister in law were there and they invited us to move in until we could figure things out. We thought a change of where we were would help us move forward. Instead issues got worse and worse. He got kicked out of my brothers. We still were together. He went back to rehab. Found out he was bipolar. I was getting calls saying he was seeing people in his room at all hours of the night right before rehab. Cops were getting called on the regular. I thought he was gunna kill himself, a lot. Finally after a long time, even though our shit was still pretty fucked because of all the stuff we put each other through... things started to get way better. When he was done with his program, we decided to live together again. Things were good for a bit. Then they weren’t. Eventually, he relapsed again. His friend and our roommate found black heroin smudges all over the bathroom. I had noticed some money being taken out of my account. I had 3 jobs at the time, was supporting both of us, and going to school full time. My life was crazy. I told him he had one more chance after a huge fight. It happened again. And a bunch of my stuff was missing. We were broken up and still living together. I would have to lock my doors to my room. Had a safe to lock money in. Finally one night I said to get out. Even packed his stuff. I was done. He terrorized me for a long time after. Even though he stole over 3000 dollars, including all the items he had taken to the pawn shop, everything was my fault. Yes I was crazy, and didn’t treat him the greatest all the time, with my anger issues and all, but holy shit THIS WAS CRAZY.

Since then, I’ve dated 2 guys since. Not boyfriends. The first one, I was at his beck and call. I would completely change my schedule to hang out with him. I was desperate for his attention. I got pregnant. I of course wasn’t ready for that. And he wanted nothing to do with it. I was working a lot and still going to school so I had one day to take the pill when you’re supposed to do the first pill one day, and the second one the next day. I just took them both and went with it. I was ashamed about getting an abortion. I felt terrible about it. I just assumed it worked. Later on, I went home for my brothers wedding a few months later. I was still over weight... but I wasn’t sure what the protocol was of losing the baby fat after an abortion. When I got back to Oregon, I found out I was still pregnant. 5 months pregnant. I went to the doctor and I had days to get rid of it before it was too late. I started to think that this was a sign, that I should keep the baby. But when you take the pill to get rid of a baby, it most likely will cause defects. Since I’m already diabetic, and have bad family health history... I was super scared. I went through with it. I felt like I had too. I broke down and things... well fell apart between me and him.

Now I’m seeing this guy.... we were friends for a few months. Met him through a coworker. Found out he had a heroin problem at one point and used to party a lot. I wasn’t interested in dating him at all. But we had fun when we hung out. My coworker and I had a falling out. And so did this guy and him. We started hanging out alone after that. We were still just friends. Eventually, it happened. We kissed. It turned into more. But, I kinda just thought we were friends that were hooking up. We both went home for the holidays. Things seemed really good with us. When I got back, I kinda decided I was looking for more than just hooking up. I told him at one point. Apparently, he had thought it was more the entire time. I was pretty excited. I thought I could trust him and we really could just take our time with being a couple and just enjoy it. But as of late, he’s been acting a little strange. Different in my opinion. But with all my issues from the past, I don’t know a good way to talk about it, in a healthy way. I’m starting to not trust him and taking out a little bit of my issues on him. I’m afraid, yet again I’m ruining it.

HOW DO PEOPLE FIGURE THIS SHIT OUT?! I’m struggling hard. I really like this guy. I need to figure out relationships. Although this is the healthiest one I’ve had.... maybe ever... I still want to be better. Being an adult is hard. Actually, just being a human is. I continue to keep asking myself if I’m good enough. I continue to not be able to trust people. I don’t know how to fix thing. I don’t know how to really move on from my past. How do I learn to have a functioning relationship? What’s wrong with me?!

(by the way, this isn’t just a story, this is my life... crazy I know.)

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New Beginnings

I’m starting this today after not using Tumblr for years. I’ve thought about writing a book about my life before. I think that this is a way better place to start. I love writing and thought that expressing myself may be good for myself mentally and something I need, so here goes.