I had begun to research Reactive Attachment Disorder (RAD) many months ago, in an attempt to make sense of some of the psychological troubling things going on in my life that were making me feel as if I was going insane, which, in turn, left a few to actually believe I was psychotic and unsafe/unstable as a person, what I learned has been both freeing as well as troubling, as it still is difficult to navigate the emotions that come from this disorder in children.

I am shamed to admit that I believe both of my children suffered from this after looking at the symptoms (only 1 of many available symptoms lists) and reflecting on the life I led during some of their most formative years in an abusive marriage.  I feel guilty that they may suffer from this disorder, or at least have to a degree while some was simply due to their ages, when I know I was working 2 jobs from the time my youngest was about 2 until she was 8, plus in that time I was in the process of trying to divorce and had begun to live part-time outside of the marital home in another city for 4 days a week.  I abandoned my children when they needed me the most and I left them in an abusive situation that I felt I had no real way out of other than to work as much I was (and then begin a home based business where I traveled a lot and even when I was home, was quite often busy with the business aspect, and not there for them emotionally when they needed me to be).  I vowed to stop being so involved in my side business and strictly stick to my full time job (which involved me working 6 to 7 days a week for approximately 5 months or so out of the year), when I knew I was determined to end my marriage, and especially after the final incident between my ex-husband and I ended up with him in jail for domestic assault and a CPS investigation occurred.  I knew I needed to stay at home and focus more on my children, and the guilt of knowing I allowed them to be in a very unhealthy situation drove my motivation in many ways, even though I never really wanted to end my side business since it was something I truly enjoyed and was quite successful with it.

I can look back on things now and see why my children throughout the years had many issues with me being an active parent; I had been in many ways, but once I began working 2 jobs to support the household bills (just to make ends meet), I had left them into the care of my ex-husband who had his own troubles with depression, anger, and poor coping skills when it came to stress.  I wish I had other options, though it was either that I worked 2 jobs, or we would lose our house due to not being able to pay the mortgage (let alone other basic needs), and while I’ve gotten over being bitter about that situation, it definitely was a huge part in how my children have struggled for the last almost 3 years since the domestic assault incident to have connected with me and are now not showing as many symptoms of RAD with continued therapy for each of them, as well as continued effort on my part to enhance my parenting skills.

The very difficult part in this is the isolation I felt in the thoughts of this disorder/other psychological problems as being a very realistic thing happening with hope to overcome, not simply just affecting my own children but also feeling another child I cared for and was close to for a little over 2 years had/has the same disorder that could be overcome with support from various sources.  My children’s father has not been very supportive of therapy efforts for our children over many years (he has been against any form of psychological therapy other than to suggest I seek it out for myself only), though especially within the last almost 3 years, however, he has begun to be less critical of my efforts to have our children continue different forms of therapy.  It also felt like denial and a lack of support in what I felt were potential problems from the father of the other child, though there was nothing I could really do, since it wasn’t my child.  I have never truly felt supported when it came to my own children’s problems, let alone someone else’s child’s problems, and as much as I love the other child that is not mine and tried every thing I could to be there as a loving and supportive parental model for them, the more I did that is suggested to control the disorder, the more chaos and fighting happened that culminated in 2 people (at a minimum, as others were involved, but not on a daily basis) leaving a relationship, a home, my children, and me.  The more I researched this, the “parental figure” that is not the biological mother/father of the child, will usually get the brunt end of the disorder, and unless the biological child’s parent is supportive of the other parental figure, then more chaos and fighting will tend to occur and it tends to be a large factor (if not the largest factor) in many relationships ending.  My children did their fair share of acting out in ways that made it very difficult to co-parent effectively with their biological and non-biological parental figures involved, and I can look back on quite a few things and see that while, at the time, I thought of even a worse scenario than RAD, it definitely fit and explains a lot of the conflict that happened.  Logically knowing all of the information I do up to now makes it a bit easier to put into practice some good general parenting skills, it certainly does not help the feelings I have of being a complete and utter failure as a mother, let alone a woman worthy of a relationship, or coming to grips with some of the very critical remarks about me as a person and parent that I’ve heard over the years (including more than just the last 2 years).

It was heartbreaking to have a child, whom I went to great lengths to show love and affection to as well as make them feel as if they were one of my own even though they were not, no longer in my life, let alone the knowledge of my part in making things worse for everyone involved.  In some ways, though, I know having the father leave me/the relationship and detaching was for the best, especially when it appeared, from my side at least (probable biased/irrational thinking) that led to some resentment, that children could talk about me/others in my family poorly without reproach or confrontation, yet when I reached out to friends for support of the situation that I felt like I was getting totally lost in, I was criticized for “talking shit” and “blaming”. I felt like some sort of double standard that was difficult for me to accept, so I know, logically, that what happened with ending things/the situation as we had known it for a while was for the best of all of us.

I not only saw and admitted to what my own children did, I admitted to times I acted in a way that was more irrational and emotionally reactive instead of the more calm and rational person I have tried to become over the years, and still want to become.  I felt dismissed and I didn’t feel validated, which ended up leading me to act much more emotionally than I wish I would have and know I can control better.  I know I can do better; I want to continue to grow in how to not be as emotional when it comes to handling difficult situations that are triggers to the side of me that deals with stress, so I can become better at being proactive instead of reactive.  It takes practice…something I’ve been determined to consciously be more active in doing each day in some small way or another.

I feel more shame and guilt than I do resentment; my own children appear to have suffered from this disorder, which is guilt inducing in so many ways even though none were officially diagnosed (that I am aware of).  Unfortunately, the shame of being seen as a “bad” parent and avoiding reality made it a difficult thing for me to accept, so I strive to keep working each day on trying to understand the intricacies of some psychological reasons for others’ actions/reactions so it will be easier to forgive and let go of things that ended up invading my dreams and brought me to a psychotic point (not just with parenting and goes as far back as pain I’ve dealt with since a child). I know it’s best for me to accept reality for what it is with my children and continue to learn better parenting skills for their sake, as well as anyone else that enters my life in an intimate relationship of any sort (regardless of it being male or female, platonic or romantic), as I do not wish to make the same mistakes I did before…I never want anyone to suffer the way we all did again…children or adults.

I wish I would have learned about this disorder 3 or more years ago…not only within the last year…as maybe I could have handled things better and not ended up abandoning my own children for so long, let alone another child that really needed a supportive mother figure to not abandon her/shut her out of their life again.

There is so much guilt, heartache, and such a deep sense of loss, on so many levels, and some days, the pain hits out of nowhere, and I feel as if I’ve taken 2 steps forward, then 1 step back.  I know I just need to keep moving forward and learn from all of this…


I am at the beginning stages of trying to refinance my house, as part of my divorce settlement that was awarded in November of 2013, and I am finding it very hard not to be both positive about the experience as well as nervous and doubtful that this huge personal achievement will come to pass within the next month as I had hoped.  Anxiety about the possibility of my home not being assessed at a high enough value to be able to refinance yet has definitely been creeping in as I reflect on the time I tried to refinance as soon as my divorce was awarded, though I am trying to rationalize the thoughts as trying to keep myself grounded in reality, in case things happened as they did before, and hope that my anxiety is not a form of self-sabotage or the negative version of the Law of Attraction that will garner me the results that I truly hope do not repeat from my last experience.

I have sacrificed a lot to get where I am at and feel proud of my accomplishments, yet there is a part of me that seems to be feeling quite a bit of shame in feeling proud, as if I need to ensure I’m not so confident that I end being arrogant and feel completely defeated if I need more time to unlock the life achievement that I’ve taken great care to try to unlock.  I know failing at this goal, at this time, will not break me completely, though the reality of pushing the goal off to a different time frame, again, will have some ramifications that I’d rather avoid, including pushing off the extra things that I would like to give to my children.

My children have everything they need; a roof over their head, utilities, food, and even clothing, though there is so much more I would like to be able to give them.  I would love to be able to take them traveling and experience places that I was blessed to be able to experience, just for starters, though the luxuries I seem to be denying them that their peers have been afforded are lower on my priority list until I can get past this hurdle of refinancing my house.  That is a concept I have tried to explain to my children after every “…but everyone else…” and “We don’t get anything…” comment is made; we have to sacrifice now so I can get to a point of budgeting in those luxuries and maintain the home we have as well, and it is a promise I made in the dissolution of my marriage to their father.  I have to legally keep this promise before I can focus on giving them any of the things they want that are over and above what they need to survive, which can be a difficult concept to explain without sounding as if I am being selfish, especially when I am at a point in life that I refuse to go into debt to put my children first outside of their immediate needs.

I was heartbroken when, after my 4th attempt at filing for divorce and it finally being granted (doing things pro se 3 times previously just didn’t work out; the judges would not grant our mutually agreed upon settlement – a point I can see both sides of, begrudgingly), I immediately sought to refinance the house as my ex-husband and I agreed upon and was told I needed to pay off about another $10,000 in debt before I could refinance. The mortgage and equity loan were the last items that I needed to remove his name from as far as jointly owned/responsible accounts, and the sooner I could get that accomplished, the better, as there was always tension when it came to finances between us that would lead to closure and less to argue about if it could be done as soon as possible.  It was frustrating to tell the mortgage banker that I already had a loan against my 401K account (which was used to help pay off the extra $6,500 in credit card debt I had agreed to take on), and had no family to lean on for such a loan, and realizing that any personal loan would not get me any closer if I used money from such a loan to pay down the outstanding equity loan balance.

I felt completely devastated at the news, since I could afford the house payments on my own, which unfortunately was part of the problem in our marriage that, I believe, made him feel so emasculated (in addition to the resulting affair I ended up having), and with the way I had evolved my finances over the years and my length of employment with the same company, I had agreed to take on the house mortgage on my own, as well as the home equity loan we had against that, and even his half of some credit card debt that we had obtained over the years, in lieu of him receiving half of my 401K retirement balance.  Needless to say, my ex-husband actually got a pretty good deal, even though I was not giving him half of the equity in the house, or “buying him out”, since our house had fallen into disarray and with the amount of the equity loan, there was no true equity that I could give.

The devastation of hearing that reality, however, pushed me even harder to reach the goal of being able to refinance our house and be able to truly own the house on my own.  I had a goal, which I told my ex-husband about before we even got married, that I wanted to own a house by the time I was 30.  Due to the fact that he wanted to own a home before we had children, which he knew from the start that I wanted early for medical and selfish reasons of the ability to enjoy and be actively involved in being a mother, I was able to sign the mortgage to the house with him just before I turned 20 (in large part because of his VA status which equated to no money down and no private mortgage insurance required on the original loan), and also stepped across the stage to receive my GED in the same month.

December of 1999…talk about a time in my life that I will never forget.  It’s a time in my life I never want to forget in many ways, though in so many I wish I could forget, as I had crawled back from a dark hole that started roughly in May of 1996 (when I should have graduated high school instead of dropping out in January to move from Texas to Nebraska) when I was completely and utterly alone in a state where I had no family and friends and was taken advantage of in so man ways, and hit basically rock bottom at the end of January in 1997, emotionally and financially.  I am sure I could, and most likely will, write more about that time in my life in other posts, though right now, it reminds me that while I had some help emotionally and even a little help financially, I really am the one that got myself out of the pit of despair I was in; I knew what I needed to do and was blessed to receive some  motivation in ways, though what I did was more my determination than anyone seemed to give me credit for (or demanded that I acknowledge that if it weren’t for some help I would never be where I am now; a faulty logic that history can prove the fallacy of).

Since November 2013, I have successfully paid off my attorney’s fees (roughly $2,000) and paid off $3,000 of my mortgage principal, as well as just under $9,000 of my equity loan principal.  All I can do at this point is hope that when my house is appraised soon, that the value has not gone down enough to not be able to complete the refinance process this time, especially when I’ve succeeded in doing what I’ve done so far, with very little to almost no help from anyone else in my life.

I am looking forward to, yet very nervous about, finally unlocking the achievements I have, and this one is the 2nd one of the most daunting I have taken on in my life so far…the first was getting through my divorce, which I had never thought I would do, nor had even a thought of it being an achievement…initially.


I feel like whining to match all of the petty things that have been happening to me over the last week, as it has dwindled my self esteem down to the bare minimum, and this seems to be a better alternative to letting my emotions getting the best of me and acting out in a way that I know I shouldn’t.  I am not sure where to even start, though I think the last few times of being a mother to my children today has just left me feeling as if I have no clue why others have such little respect for me, and if the cliche is correct, then I’ve done a piss poor job of teaching others how to respect me.

I’m told I yell too much.  I’m told I cuss too much.  I’m told I’m an awful parent when I let my frustrations get the best of me and call my children brats and spoiled.  I’m told that I talk and explain too much.  I’m told that what I say isn’t relevant to a current discussion.  I’m told that sharing my experiences to help teach a way that, hopefully, won’t lead to as many problems as I had, is talking shit if I mention people that shared the experience with me.

Unfortunately, when I don’t yell, cuss, or do other things that people criticize and put me down for as a downfall like I mentioned before, I am not taken seriously and people take advantage of me, including my own children.  It’s strange how I’m criticized for being too lenient and allow too many to take advantage of me, and when I put boundaries down, I’m told that I’m a bitch, cunt, mean, controlling, and other choice words or phrases that puts me back into a bad light.  I find it odd as to how many can see “others” are doing this to me and don’t like it, yet they, themselves, cannot seem to see how they are doing just the same and excuse it away.

I tend to hold a lot in and try not to criticize people.  I try to hide my hurt feelings and resentments, trying desperately to live and let live for as much as possible, though the pain of those criticisms and feelings of being taken for granted (if not advantage) of always seem to have a way of coming out in rages once my dam has burst, and I end up feeling as though I just don’t have any idea of what I’m doing.

One of the reasons I end up letting people take advantage of me is because it is so much easier than dealing with eye rolls, sighs, snapping back, and other disrespectful behaviors when I’m not yelling (showing signs of anger or rage and letting my emotions control my actions).  I just let people do what they do rather than confront them.  I’ve had too many bad experiences with that kind of confrontation, and frankly, there are some people and some times I honestly have fear that I will be harmed, so I steer clear as often as I can from saying anything critical or stating my boundaries and what I feel I deserve as far as respect and general treatment.

I know it isn’t healthy for me to be this way.  I know I deserve better treatment than I get a lot of the time.  I know that I should have boundaries and expect certain things from people.  I know the co-dependency I struggle with.

I logically know all this.

Unfortunately, having children and adults snap at me and act in a way that shows their frustration and annoyance with me when I place boundaries is just wearing me down and I find it harder and harder to not lash out and project my frustrations onto those I’m trying to speak to in a healthy way when they treat me in a way I find disrespectful.

I wish I knew how to parent all on my own so my children would respect me and do what I ask, let alone expect, without so much drama.  This wish, though, is not one I have kept to myself, nor have I left it to be subtle clues that my children should figure out, as I have discussed it multiple times directly with them, including in family therapy.

What I want, need, and expect are normally spoken quite frankly and upfront, whether it is to my children, to my boyfriend, or to my other family and friends, though I admit that I am not perfect at it and find myself, at times, being hurt because I had assumed an outcome instead of speaking it before the pain of being let down happens.

The times of feeling as if I will always be treated this way can be so draining and overwhelming, especially when, in all my life, I don’t think I have yet to meet anyone that knows, or is capable of, an actual healthy relationship that respects boundaries.  I have no clue where to meet people that would treat me with the respect I feel I deserve.  Then again, maybe I’ve met them, but have put my focus on other things and not taken the time to spend time with them.

I know I’m probably over-thinking things, as I am prone to do, though it gets difficult not to do when I feel so worn down and like I am, for some reason, unworthy of what I find respectful, or that I just expect too much out of life and people.

Right now my boyfriend is playing a computer game that he said he wouldn’t be playing “much longer”, and I don’t expect him to stop for at least another hour, even though it’s been an hour since he said that to me.  I dare not ask any questions, for if I do, our history has shown that he’ll snap at me and assume I’m upset with him playing and possibly even stay up all night playing just to spite my inquisition.  I think I have a right to be annoyed, especially when I’ve flat out told him that I would initiate physical intimacy more if I knew I could interrupt his game playing without reproach that makes me feel like I’m not worth his time (I have a long history with my ex-husband on playing games to add to this insecurity), just for starters, though I choose to just assume that his time frame and mine are about 2-3 hours different and won’t do anything and push my emotions aside (hopefully) enough to just go to sleep and let him be.

I’ve had too much drama for me to even think of asking him to join me in bed to cuddle/snuggle, especially when I’ve gotten so much drama for not letting my kids do what they like to do, and tried to talk to them too much about boundaries and expectations today.  I’m just too worn out to care much…

I’m ready for some cheese…maybe a glass of wine…and call it a night.

A Bitter Reality

December 13, 2012


First song that sets the backdrop for this part of my life has got to be “Narcissistic Cannibal” by Korn, with the raw and deep emotions in not only the tone of the voice, but in the message it actually conveys within the lyrics. This applies to a few people in my life only and things I keep in my life when I probably shouldn’t let some things just continue to be status quo…

“Don’t wanna be sly and defile you
Desecrate my mind and rely on you
I just wanna break this crown
But it’s hard when I’m so run down…”

I truly am run down from trying to maintain a status that flexes to and fro, with hidden expectations that turned to resentments, between someone who is to never to break a promise yet striving for perfection, and the most vile person that quits when they promised they never would. I want to stop wearing this invisible crown that changes on a dime, and I never know what will be blamed once I started to rely so much on you. My mind has been ravaged in ways that cannot begin to be told, sending it bouncing to extremes from one end of the pole to the other.

“And you’re so cynical, Narcissistic Cannibal!
Got to bring myself back from the dead!…”

I have always been to blame for the problems, and he always wanted to be right, no matter what the actual cost was, and I accepted it for a time, being dragged away from who I was towards what I know was dead…my hopes and dreams of further education and exploration of life, with someone I would be honored to call a life partner, best friend, soul mate, lover, and maybe even husband…while helping them grow in whatever ways they may want.

“Sometimes, I hate, the life, I made
Everything’s wrong every time
Pushing on I can’t escape
Everything that comes my way
Is haunting me taking its sweet time
Holding on I’m lost in a haze
Fighting life to the end of my days…”

I hate that I let my life get this way. I rushed into something because I felt the hurt of an unspoken rejection. I was rescued right when I was close to both making it completely on my own and losing it all because of one wrong move fueled by good intentions. I took words at face value and chose to ignore behaviors that were abusive, and even fell victim to being the attacker, so I own up to making it worse, or at least not actively better. I take steps forward, seeking outside help, for I feel it’s taking so painstakingly long and I have these hurdles that keep popping up that I have to continue conquering to get to where I want to be and letting go of that toxicity because I won’t stop having dreams and goals just because of you.

“Don’t wanna be rude but I have to
Nothing’s good about the hell you put me through
I just need to look around
See that life that has come unbound…”

The Hell you put me through has some happy moments, sometimes as small as pebbles, some a bit larger like a smooth skipping stone, and only a couple large rocks, filed away in my mind, heart, and soul. The effects of adding other stones on top of those, as they were held to the limbo status, because of the fears you carried and I had to hold as well because you chose to deny them, tossing them behind you, not realizing they landed right in front of me in my path of you. I held my stone but dropped in pace behind you slightly. With each denial of the reality I spoke of, I added my own stones inside me so I could focus on moving the stones you kept laying in my path, trying desperately to be what you said I was, yet continually had more stones added in front of me you expected me to work a way around to find you again, so I eventually started tossing a few stones your way as well as I wore further and further down. Once the stones got to be too great for me to bear, I finally saw that for me to lose the burden I was carrying and tossing, I had to toss the stones a different way, whether it was knocking two stones together to break them into smaller and more manageable sizes or acknowledge the size that they are and toss them beside me to mark my path…

And now is where the next song in the backdrop of my life starts chiming in, “Breaking The Habit” by Linkin Park, which I will break down in my next entry, because I know I will break the habit that has taken over in direct as well as insidious ways, and not only survive, but also thrive, even if only emotionally…


It was about 5 months ago now that my closest male friend, someone I deeply care about and love, had a life changing event occur that in turn also brought about some life changes of my own, even in the process of my life changes and soul-searching that were already in progress.  While these events occurred and made me re-evaluate some things in my life, admit to others, and possibly even deny yet some other things, I accepted how my life was progressing and moving and actively going along with the changing tide with an open mind and heart.

As my friend, whom I will call “Wolf” for the purpose of this entry, was facing a realization of events that lead to him considering himself an alcoholic, I was putting myself into a position of being a support system that thrust me into some serious introspection.  As this event began to unfold, I had emotions rise to the surface that I could not explain, and I cannot seem to explain things even now.  I do not think I can forget the night when the first introspective moment hit me like a ton of bricks and a wave of emotions flooded over me that felt like I was seriously in trouble of drowning and I was disoriented.

The night started out with friends playing a few rounds of poker, and while it caught me as a bit “odd” in retrospect that I took notice of something that night that I had not taken real notice of before, I cannot deny that I did actually notice it.  I had a bit of a protective feeling towards Wolf that night that I had not felt before.  It wasn’t a possessive feeling, or one of judgement, or even one of criticism.  It was just a strange feeling of taking notice of the drinks he was consuming and then having an overwhelming feeling of “this isn’t like him” and a general feeling of wanting to reach out but not really knowing in what way.  I can almost guarantee that it was because of this feeling that I asked to try one of the drinks he had, which I rarely do, almost as if I needed to take one to keep him from drinking it.

Wolf can take care of himself, don’t get me wrong, which is why the feelings of anxiety and protective instincts felt so out-of-place for me.  I did not dwell on it, though, nor did I try to analyze those feelings right then and simply continued on with the fun night.  When Wolf lost his chips and was taken out of the game, he left, and I was left with a feeling in the pit of my stomach that, yet again, “this isn’t like him” by his reactions and I just couldn’t seem to figure out why I felt that way.  I had a sense of concern that seemed to come from no where in particular, and while I was nervous about showing my concern, out of a fear that my actions or statements would somehow belie that it was a genuine concern that I could not explain, even though I trusted Wolf with every fiber of my being, I tried as hard as I could to figure out a way to express my concern without seeming overwhelming, clingy or controlling.  Looking back, all I can do is admit to my very apparent “codependent” way of seeking to handle it, though I despise actually admitting to that, as the term codependent has such a negative connotation and almost every single compassionate action or statement of concern can be twisted into this sickness of codependency.  I did try to contact him later and ensure that things were okay, and after a reassurance that he was okay and decided to go out somewhere else, I resumed the night, which ended when I finally got home and went to bed about 3:00 in the morning.

I had just fallen into a deep sleep after still not being able to shake a strange feeling deep in my soul, that I continually tried to ignore and not analyze, when my phone rang somewhere around 5:00 am.  I looked at my phone to see that it was Wolf calling, so I answered it, not knowing why he would be calling me at such an hour.  Why I actually answered at that time, I have no idea, as I had not taken calls from him from time to time due to what else was going on in my life at those moments, but I did answer for some reason.  When I answered, the phone call broke up before I could hear much from him, so when the call got disconnected, I sent him a text message to make sure everything was okay.  I had not quite finished the text message yet, and he called again, so I answered, and this time, my heart fell to the pit of my stomach.  Though the reception was poor, I heard Wolf state quickly that he was in jail as he had been picked up for a DUI, had nobody else to call, and asked if I could come and bail him out.

My mind could barely focus and I was overwhelmed with conflicting emotions.  I was trying to stay calm and logical, trying to figure out where I could come up with the money needed to get him out of jail, all while fending off tears, hearing that nagging lump in my stomach telling me that maybe, just maybe, my earlier intuition had been right to listen to, and listening to him trying to tell me where he was at before the conversation was disconnected yet again.  I was exhausted and had only had a couple of hours of sleep, but Wolf called me because he needed help…he was asking for my help…and I could not bear to turn him away when he had not asked for my help in this way before.  There was something in his voice that kept me from denying him, even though the cost of helping him was great, in more ways than strictly monetary.

I told him that I would be there as soon as I could, pulled on some clothes, grabbed what I needed and jumped in my car and headed in the general direction of where he was.  I didn’t even know where the jail was, but from what Wolf told me, I knew it had to be somewhere close to where he lived, which was at least a 45 minute drive from my house.  I stopped at the first open gas station that had an ATM and tried to use my brand new credit card to take a cash advance of the money needed to bail him out.  After 3 attempts, I got back into my car and cried, as the transactions kept being denied for whatever reason that I was not fully aware of (I found out later that since it was the first time I tried to use my card and it was for a cash advance, they denied the request until it could be verified as not fraudulent).

My mind would not seem to slow down at that point, and I knew that while the drive would be a minimum of 45 minutes, that was 45 minutes too long for my brain to have competing thoughts racing at what seemed like a million miles an hour.  I grabbed my GPS and did a search for where the jail would most likely be and then let the voice guide me as I tried to pay attention to the road that was covered in a dense fog that barely had visibility of more than 2 feet.  My thoughts made it very difficult to concentrate, but I could not stop.

Was he in an accident and hurt someone because he had been drinking and driving?  How could he be so foolish?  Why didn’t he allow me to be there for him before this happened with his almost severe independence?  How was I going to come up with the money to bail him out of jail?  Was this a time when I should use “tough love” and let him suffer the consequences for his actions?  Why was I going to bail him out of jail when I wouldn’t have answered the phone for others in my life at that time of day, let alone left my home to travel almost an hour to rescue them from an inconvenient consequence of their own actions?  What in the Hell was I doing?  What did this say about how much I cared about him?

These were just some of the thousands of thoughts running through my mind, including guilt about times when I should not have been driving because of having too much to drink.  I also remembered feeling resentment that stemmed from an instance of being pulled over for not making a complete stop at a stop sign a few years earlier that left me feeling like the officer talking to me and giving me sobriety tests was trying to trick me in some way and how emotionally upset I was that he continually tried to coerce me into accepting that I needed a ride home instead of driving myself (which sure felt like entrapment, and I stood my ground when I knew from the sobriety tests, including breathalyzer, that I was well within limits and driving just fine, other than making the mistake of not stopping long enough at a stop sign on a back road).  I continued to drive, almost white knuckling the steering wheel, sobbing in bursts, but thanking a higher power that he was, in fact, okay and alive, while having a sensation of not knowing whether this was all just a horrible dream or reality.

Once I found the jail, I decided to try to find an ATM that was owned by my bank, knowing that I needed to pull out the maximum allowable cash withdrawal and it was going to be short-changing my mortgage payment and all my available cash in my wallet to get him out of jail.  I put the cash that spit out from the machine in my wallet and made my way to the entrance of the jail that was open 24 hours a day.  I opened the door to find a small hallway with no windows and an intercom system, so I pressed the button with knots in my stomach and my hands literally shaking to call someone and figure out what the heck I needed to do to try and end this nightmare.  A man answered and asked what I needed in a short but not completely rude tone, and I was frozen for a moment, as I had never in my 33 years ever bailed anyone out of jail and had no clue what the proper procedure really was.  I told him my name and proceeded to tell him that I was there to bail out an inmate, Wolf.  He responded in a way that left me feeling quite cold and questioning my own strength as he proclaimed that the computers were down so I could not bail Wolf out of jail at that time, so I needed to leave.  I remember asking how long it would take for the computers to be back up, thinking that maybe this was a scheduled outage for updates like most large companies do, and all he responded is that he didn’t know, so I would have to call in about an hour and check the status of whether or not Wolf could be released.

I turned around, walked out the door, and tears flooded my eyes while yet another set of conflicting emotions took over.  I was angry and hurt at the dismissal, let alone the apparent lack of empathy or courtesy the attendant had given to me through the cold and calculating intercom, and I began to think about how much of my time I was wasting to help Wolf.  I wanted to be back in my comfortable bed sleeping, not wasting at least yet another hour out of my day when there was no businesses open for me simply wander though and get lost in to bide my time.  I was left to simply wander in my own mind, which can be a scary thing for me, and if too much time is left aimlessly sifting through thoughts without any outlet, I feared I would become the emotional basket case psychotic woman who was weak and not able to handle difficult situations.  I would be a failure if I wasn’t able to hold it together and get this taken care of, yet there was honestly nothing around to help with finding that peace and strength for my soul, except to look within myself, acknowledge the feelings and move past them as best as I could.  I realized that this was going to be a test of my strength, though I wasn’t ready for it at this moment, even though I knew in my soul that I had no control of when and how this test was happening, and all I could do was to control my reactions to the best of my abilities.

I decided to go through a drive through and grab a few bites to eat, questioning why I was choosing to do that, as I certainly didn’t feel hungry at that exact moment, and then chastising myself for falling into the action of this, because if analyzed, it could be seen as an avoidance tactic of dealing with reality – an eating disorder where food is used as comfort and avoidance of dealing with troublesome emotions – but I realized after I took a bite of the food I ordered, I really wasn’t hungry and I wasn’t in the mood to eat.  In fact, this reaffirmed my sentiment that I had overcome using food to mask and soothe difficult emotions, at least at the moment of trying to deal with them, and I had moved to a place of being actually repulsed by food during my most emotional moments.  I saved what I did not eat, thinking that maybe Wolf would want it when he was finally able to be released.

I kept looking at the clock in my car, trying to wish the time to move faster, but it wouldn’t, and finally I called the jail after about 45 minutes, deciding I could not wait any longer to try to figure out what was going on with Wolf and when I would be able to get myself to a place where I could actually sleep.  The woman that answered the phone was much more helpful and courteous than than the man I dealt with inside the building, though I was told they still were not sure when the computer’s would be up and running to be available to release Wolf.  This was now becoming extremely annoying and I wanted to scream at the woman on the other end of the line, but I kept my cool, and was told that she would call me as soon as she knew anything more and asked me for my phone number so she could keep her promise.  Granted, I was a bit jaded and frustrated, but I politely gave her my phone number thinking that I was going to have to wait yet another eternity, and just felt exhausted by that point.  It was about 10 minutes later that I got a phone call, though I didn’t recognize the phone number, and answered the call.  I honestly can’t remember exactly what was said other than one poignant thing about Wolf that made me chuckle a bit and think to myself, “now this is how he really is”.  The woman that called me said that it was fine for me to come back to the jail, gain entrance, pay the bail fee, and let Wolf out, which is what he had made painfully obvious as what he wanted once he realized I would be able to get him released.  That was the Wolf I knew…

I entered the jail, yet again, and finally gained entrance where I met a woman who was behind glass that either seemed very genuine in wanting to help me, or extremely willing to finally let Wolf out so as to gain some sort of sanity back.  Wolf is not a jerk by any means, though just as I am at times, he can become very passionate in his feelings and crusades, which can create reactions from people that could be construed as possibly annoyed, if not offended, and while I couldn’t quite place where her reactions were on that scale of compassion or offense, I was simply relieved that one part of this nightmare was finally over.  Once I paid the bail fee and signed liability statements, I was told that I should go wait out in my car and that Wolf would be released and meet me outside when they could get his paperwork processed, which they said was their top priority at that point.  So I went out to my car to wait…again.

I don’t even remember how long I waited, but I will not forget how I saw him come out of the door in my rear view mirror, and when he opened the passenger side door and got in my car, all I could do was break down in tears.  The tears flowed from relief; release of anxiety, frustration, and love…a true unconditional love, as well as the realization that I would go through Hell with, or for, Wolf if he needed me to.  A romanticized notion in some regards, a codependent notion in others, but none of those really seem to fit as it was honestly, simply a moment of clarity as to just how deeply I loved and cared about Wolf, and how I just how far I would be willing to go to be a support for him and help him in life.  It was in that moment I realized just how much I was willing to be a true life partner…if he truly wanted me as a life partner.

He asked me why I was emotional at that moment, but I could not muster the words to answer him.  They were caught in my throat and with a million other thoughts running at the exact same time, I truly could not figure out how to explain why I was in tears.  I was not ashamed of my freely flowing expression of emotions, nor was I nervous about explaining them; I just could not put to words what I was feeling, because I tried and the words would not come, so I was silent for a moment and listened to him vent his frustrations at that moment.  I remember feeling an sense of pride, because even with his poor choice that led to this consequence, he was one of the strongest men I knew, while being one of the most sensitive men, and I also felt humbled beyond belief that he felt I was worthy enough to be in his life.

Writing it out that way seems to set me up for the critical remarks of simply being taken advantage of, being a doormat, being a slave, being too codependent, being an enabler, and every other unhealthy thing that could be placed on our relationship, but it certainly didn’t seem that way at the time.  Yes, I know, another “red flag” and one I actually noticed and took heed of, though again, in my soul, this was a true defining moment and a bit of a turning point in our relationship.  I had probably let him take advantage of me at times, though I never once gave up who I am at my core, or let him cross boundaries that I had placed due to very unhealthy relationships in the past.  I knew I had a much higher tolerance to others “taking advantage” of me, which for me is simply being compassionate and helping other people, especially if they have nobody else to turn to, though I have my own boundaries that I have placed and do not let people cross those, so I feel that I do know what is healthy for me and what is not.  He was not being unhealthy for me, nor were my reactions to this night unhealthy for me.  In fact, this seemed to bring about even stronger healthy bonds and boundaries, which makes sense when most of our true life changes come from some of the most painful times in our lives that test our limits, if not push our limits to new lengths that, in the end, create new limits.

As this part of the background of the new journey comes to close and the next part of the background is written, all I can do is thank my higher power for such an amazing person in my life.  Everyone has made an imprint in my life and helped change or shape who I am, and Wolf has been nothing short of a blessing, whom I am eternally grateful to have met.  I may not make as much of an imprint as he has for me, but I do know that Wolf loves me, and it is an honest love that burns deeper than simply a fairy tale romance from my perspective and feelings.  Where it goes, I am unsure, and only time will tell, though I do hope that this next journey I am about to take is something Wolf is prepared for me to take, as I have a feeling this will become a very defining moment for me, him, and what we consider as a definition for our relationship.

Wolf may decide that he truly wants me to take this journey, since it is not really about him in many ways and it is about me honestly, though I will not waste my time and will leave him behind if he has difficulty accepting that in at least one way, this is about him and his journeys and my efforts to understand and support his journeys.  If I see that I am investing too much of my time and energy into taking this journey, that is a little bit of a change of direction for me due to supporting and adapting to his own journey, without Wolf’s support and the ability to accept the risks and consequences of this next chapter, then I will painfully leave Wolf to make his quest individually and change my direction to ensure I don’t give more than I can risk losing…including the risk of losing myself.

This Journey

January 23, 2012


I look at you now

You’ve traveled so far

No hiding in fear

Come closer to me

Take my hand firmly

And gaze in my eyes

To see my bare soul

No fighting the truth

I come to you now

Follow this dream-scape

Forever to find

I am here for you

I’d give you my heart

I’d give you my soul

You are here for me

You give me your heart

You give me your soul

With you I find peace

Lovingly embraced

No longer fighting

The flow of what is

Finally letting go

Able to accept

All that we do have

And all that we want

Say you hear me

Say what you’ve hidden

In deep far too long

Take the next leap and

We’ll take this journey

And never hold back

The tidal waves of

Love, true and profound

I’m here for you now

I give you my heart

I give you my soul

I love you my dear.

©Ami May 2012

Just Savor the Moment

August 1, 2011


It’s so hard to breath…and I gasp…breathless…ecstatic…yet nervous…and scared…becoming completely overwhelmed…by mutual feelings of trust…passion…and love…

I am simply amazed at how deeply some words could touch, penetrate and pierce me as they continue to envelope my soul.  I was confident in the knowledge that while I knew the similar statements had been true days, weeks and months before, the words that night had felt of something that burned deep within, and until that night had been so deeply guarded.  I knew without a doubt that, while the melting of the façade would only be for this night and a cool detachment was sure to follow, I would not fall prey to fairy tale stories.

I had been very guarded so many times, showing glimpses of my soul less times than he probably really would believe me admitting to.  I knew the rules of the game, some before spoken aloud, while others were only found by accidentally crossing the lines of comfort, though none worth leaving patience behind.  I’ve learned to read him, though at times, when he always seems to ask the deep questions I do not want to answer, I feel nervous and lose my words, or maybe even revel in the possibility that it is a way to dodge breaking down my walls and asking the same in return.

At times, I feel as though I specifically chose a way to answer those deep questions so as to lead credence to the possibility that I might just be a bit on the overtly over-analytical side and emotionally unstable.  I do not feel I do it purposely for that reason, though I can’t help but question whether it is in the realm of reality to see this as a subconscious defect, or even a type of defense mechanism.

He saw me open up that night in a way he has probably never seen before.  What started out as light conversation led to noticing him intently listening to something I was talking about.  For some reason, in that moment, I saw an excitement and sense of pride, as well as true joy, that I had not at least taken notice of before.  I had seen him opening himself to me and over the course of our time together, seeing that side of him allowed me to feel I could comfortably fall into abandon and break down some of my walls as well.

While it may not be something that can easily be understood completely and I feel it is hard to explain in words, I allowed myself to be vulnerable to him in a way that left me completely naked and anxious for the lashes of mockery to befall my soul.  I finally allowed myself to trust him completely and, as I teased him in a way I very seldom do, I felt myself fall further at ease and contentment and no longer was I twitching in nervous anticipation of ridicule.

I heard many things that night, which culminated in one statement now seared in my brain forever…both realistically and romantically…though more difficult than any other to not lean towards a romantic version of the meaning…

“This feels so right…it feels…like home…”

Please do not question me too much on this, for I just want to forever savor the moment…