Fuck the Norm.

Ever since I graduated high school and went out into the real world, I had these preconceived notions about what my adult life would be like. I had dreams of how my house would be decorated, what color hair my children would have, what kind of car I would drive, how tall my husband would be, and even knew there’d be Birds of Paradise bushes growing around my property just for Grandpa.

When I stepped out into the dating world after my breakup with Jeffy, I aimed my sights towards a certain “type” of guy. The type I was comfortable with. I blew off anyone that didn’t fit into my categories, and probably pushed away a lot of nice guys. But, it wasn’t what I thought I wanted.

A few days ago, I took my car into the shop to have the alignment done. The guys there are always real nice. They LOVE to give me shit about being a Kyle Busch fan, but think it’s kind of cool that I know about cars. I flirt with the guys, because, you know, that’s what I do. Little did I know one of the guys there had secretly been crushing on me. After two plus years, he FINALLY asked me out.

I went back and forth in my mind for a few seconds only because I was afraid to step outside of my “categories” box, but ultimately decided to say yes. “What could it hurt, right? It’s just one date.”

And one AMAZING date it was.

Happy Monday everyone!

Where’s John Goodman when you need him?

Tuesday was an exhausting day at work. I came home, prepared to relax and enjoy an evening with Sis and Squid (who were staying the night). That was, however, not what I got.

As I’m walking through the hallway, I hear one of the dogs barking some rapid fire bark. Annoyingly I yell, “Susie! What are you barking at?”, but before I could get the entire sentence out, I yelled out a blood curling scream. I looked back down the hallway, still screaming, as RM#1 looked at me with serious concern. I was pointing towards outside while screaming, so naturally, RM#1 thought something was wrong with one of the dogs. She expected to see a dog with a missing leg, or blood spewing everywhere. I promise she was not prepared for what she was about to see.

As I continued to scream, she ran down the hallway at what seemed like an extremely slow pace, and as she looked out the sliding glass door at what I was screaming at, she let out a scream that could be heard for MILES! This is no exaggeration. Susie continued to bark, as RM#1 pulled all the dogs inside.

Folks, this is what Susie was barking at…

There was a moment of time, where we thought this might have been a Halloween joke someone was playing on us. Then it moved and we screamed even louder. LOUD screams, y’all, I’m not kidding. Two different neighbors came over to see if everything was okay because they heard the screaming. We were sweating from the fear, and had chills from the ewwyness of it. My anxiety level reached a point I hope it never does again. Simply put…I. Was. Scared. She called three different people to come over, all while screaming into the phone at everyone who wouldn’t answer.

Finally, about 15 minutes later, it was bff@work to the rescue. It was safely removed, but not before we all did a bed check.

My thoughts for today

Fear can be so ugly.

Fear is one of my biggest downfalls. It cripples me often. It contributes to failing relationships with others and sometimes prevents me from having a really great time. And I hate it. Unfortunately, I don’t appear to be strong enough to kick its ass. He’s a big son-of-a-bitch and I’m just downright afraid of him. Plain. And. Simple.

With every failed relationship, trip on the sidewalk in public, hyperventilation at top floor hotels, airplane ride, or scary first date, I learn to hold back just a little more. I proceed with more caution because I’ve already experienced the end result and I know how the story ends. And at that point, I have to ask myself, “Why would you want to do that if you know it ends in pain”. The answer? I don’t know. Maybe because I’m hoping that finally it won’t hurt. Finally it’ll end in smiles. Or better yet, maybe it won’t end.

Happy Hump Day Humping Day Wednesday! T-minus 3 days till vacation.

Fear of Flying.

The amount of anxiety that comes over my body when I arrive at an airport, is unbelievable. My fear of flying causes such distress, that from the moment I unload the car at the curb, to the moment I land at the other end, my heart races, my eyes and mouth dry out, my hands shake, I have a constant vomit feeling in my throat and stomach, and I become an absolute basketcase. I forget everything I'm supposed to remember, and when I need to speak to someone, the words fumble out like I'm speaking something other than English. My flight is two weeks away, and I'm already panicked.

I've never had a bad flying experience, so I'm not sure where the fear comes from. Maybe it's the fear of flying alone. If something happens, nobody will be there to hold onto as I fall out of the sky. Or maybe knowing that at any moment, I could be taken behind security walls and interrogated about things I don't know. And when they find out I don't know, what will happen?

Anyone else afraid of flying? What do you do to calm yourself down when flying alone?

Getting to know an absent parent

I can remember sitting in the judges chambers some room at the courthouse at the age of 7 with my sister and mom. I can also remember sitting in the judges chambers some room at the courthouse with my sister and my dad. I remember dad getting down on the floor with us and mom keeping her distance as she watched over us playing alone together. I can remember hearing the man conducting the session say dad plays with the children more. At the time, I just assumed he was thinking out loud as he wrote his notes down, but 24 years later, I’m not so sure. Why did that man say those words out loud? Those six words have run through my mind every single day since. Haunting? Perhaps.

I remember on the drive home from school one day, asking my mom did the judge decide we should live with you or dad? Secretly I was hoping she’d say dad, because I was NOT fond of mom’s new boyfriend, but she didn’t. We were on one of our last drives to the ‘family’ home, and for the first time I can remember, I experienced true sadness. I wanted to cry. Why was someone other than my parents allowed to tell us who we could spend our time with? Why couldn’t we just spend equal amounts of time with each parent? Why, at the age of 7, was I having to think about this stuff, when all I wanted to be doing was comparing sticker books with Doreen and Nicole.
As the weeks, months, and years went on, we saw less and less of dad. He was a ‘weekend father’ and had become sort of a background parent to mom and the boyfriend who had now become “the husband”, AKA: The Stepdad. He very rarely attended events we had (band competitions, basketball games, choir performances, etc), but was it because we had grown so far apart from him that we didn’t invite him or even want him there? Or because we knew he wouldn’t attend? Or was it something completely different? Am I holding a grudge about this for the wrong reason?

As I start to think about what it’ll be like if I get to have weekend visitations with Ryan, I have to admit, I’m scared of one thing, and ONE thing only. He’s 10. Is he already at that point that I had reached with my dad? Has he become so close to his father and so far from me, that he’s already developed a sense to push me away? It doesn’t seem that way by the way he acts around me now, but how can one tell when nobody will let me be around him for longer than two hours? Grrr @ the whole situation.

I have so many other questions that bring on other questions and – knowing my history of anxiety – will bring on fears. I can’t let that happen. That’s not who I want to be. Where is my best friend when I need her?

Losing someone you love

Losing someone you love is never easy. Whether it be by death, the loss of communication, moving away, or the simpleness of growing apart, the struggle one sometimes endures when having to deal with it face to face, can be difficult. For me, it will be.

Fear not, nobody has died.

I'm not good at dealing with the loss of someone close to me. Abandonment issues from childhood bring upon me fears I would rather not face, but as I grow up, I would like to think I am a little less judgmental on such things as divorce. When a marriage has run it's course, and both parties have tried everything they can, I do not hold it against either to peacefully walk away. I went through the horrible divorce of my mother and father at the age of seven. Now, 25 years later, I promise it hasn't gotten any easier.

As I watch my mother walk away from her second marriage and not look back, I’m left with lots of questions. Most importantly, “Why?”. The man I didn’t like for so many years, is now the person I’m trying to defend.

At the age of seven, you don’t understand everything. I heard a lot of things from my parents that I shouldn’t have, and I had specific hates for each of them for what they’d say. Today, it isn’t hate I feel, but sadness, because as an adult, I’m learning that even the best of relationships just sometimes don’t work. It makes me fear that no matter how hard I try at my own relationships, sometimes there’s just no saving them.

If I never get to see him again, I will forever miss the man who raised me as his own daughter. The man who taught me to turn the light off when I leave a room. (Something many people I encounter every day can’t seem to figure out.) The man who has taken on the responsibility of grandpa, to a child who isn’t his blood, yet is so much like him. I love you, Frank.

Fear

Someone asked me the other day where my fear of public restrooms came from. Well, here ya go…

My fear of public restrooms started when I was about 4 or 5, and I was shopping with my mom and sister at Target. I had to pee real bad, so mom let me go to the bathroom, alone. [Yay for big girls.]

I went in, did my thing (as any 5-year-old would), and when I flushed the toilet, I heard the loudest, scariest growl noise coming from the toilet/pipes. It scared me so much, that I walked out of the restroom so fast, I didn’t even wash my hands. (This was a big no-no. Mom always made sure we followed all appropriate hygiene rules. After all, we were girls.) I searched around for my mom, and when I finally found her, I was crying. The horrible noise had scared me so bad, I wanted nothing more than to be safe from the sound.

I avoided public restrooms for many years after that. I finally gave in to the fact that sometimes, you just gotta go no matter where you are, but let me tell you something…every single time I use a public restroom, I cringe just before flushing the toilet, because I know, that somewhere in those pipes, is a monster that has been trying to get me since that day in Target, some 26 years ago.

And now you know…