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Relationship’s/Past/Present

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I’m sorry it’s been a while since I have posted anything. The demands of everyday life are very real. So the title/subject, of this blog is relationships. It doesn’t matter what kind. Past or present, if the people whom you had relationship with is still apart of your everyday life, even if you don’t see or speak to them on then they are still cared for by you. Meaning you harbor feelings, just not enough for it to be what it no longer is anymore. With that being said, her father is by far one of the most hard headed, strong willed, stubborn, independent people I have ever met. I mean that with the utmost respect too. He’s a great dad, not just a father. I once read a saying that, “Any man can be a daddy. It takes a real man to be a father.” Those are the truest words I think I’ve ever read. How true is that though? 100% true. I know plenty of BOYS, that are daddies and have numerous kids by various women. But not one of them, not a single one, is man enough to be called a “Father”. Because they aren’t man enough yet and still have a lot of maturing to do. A man that’s a father will teach his kids not to follow in anyone else’s footsteps, but to make their own. I was a very immature mother. By that, I mean as far as being responsible for them and what they did. Yea adults were supposed to teach their kids right from wrong. For example, we all now it’s wrong to steal. Weather it be from a store or an individual. It’s wrong regardless. Me though! Shit. I was the parent, when asked if they could take something while at the store, that said, ” Go away from me when you put it in your pocket cause if you get caught I’m gonna pretend I don’t know shit”. So that’s what they did. They would go a coupe aisles over and open it and stick it in their pocket. That’s what I meant by saying I was an immature mother. I never really set a prime example in my life for my kids to follow. They knew stealing was wrong. They justified it because they asked me before they did it. I was even in and out of jail for a consecutive number of years during their childhood. I got locked up this last rip almost 4 years straight. Only after attending almost every rehab in and around Paducah, Ky. and getting kicked out of every single one of them. Usually after getting comfortable with being there and knowing how the facility worked, before I’d start sneaking pills in. Narcotic or not. It happened every damn time. Shit, the guards at the jail, as well as arresting officers, know me on a first name basis! I’m SO not bragging about that. I was released in late 2018 from prison and I have been the mother I should have been from the very start of their life, since I have been home. But back to the father of my daughter. He always said she would grow out of being depressed. It was just a kid thing. That’s how he put it I think. Well now he himself is suffering from this phantom childhood illness. He now knows it’s very real, and he’s grown already, so what’s for him to “grow out of”? Nothing. He needs to be medicated and very quickly. I’m so freaking worried for him, about him, that it’s been consuming me the last few years really. It was while I was locked up he tried to overdose using some kind of pills. Had it not of been for our daughter, he would have succeeded. She made the call to 911 after coming home from school finding him unconscious on the living room floor. Then not even a full 24 hours later he was rushed back to the hospital because his windpipe had collapsed on him. Trauma from where they had to bag him when he overdosed. So needless to say I was a total mess when I found all this out. I thought in this demented, drug abused mind of mine, that one day we’d be back together. I thought I was still madly in love with him. Turns out that’s not the whole case really. I have been married to my husband now, since 2012. While not having been madly in love with him like I was with her dad, I still loved him. I just wasn’t “in love” with him. All that came later though. With being a part of my maturing and realizing he’s been the most loyal person I’ve ever been with. Now, I’m madly, blinded by the love and respect I have for him. He raised my son as if he were his own. He didn’t pawn him off on my parents at the first sign of trouble with me. He stuck in it with me and even though I was the one locked up, he served everyday with me. Day for day. For 3 1/2 years. I had a letter in the mail almost every single day I was incarcerated. He faithfully put money on my books for phone time and groceries every month. From the first day when I was in county, until the very last day before I was put out on MRS. I had been through a lot of maturing by the time I came home to him. I still surprise him a little bit every time he think’s I’m gonna lose my shit, only to remain calm and collected and to speak with utmost respect even when I’m complaining about a certain way someone else may have handled a situation. When someone disrespects my husband in my presence, I quickly execute a very respectable, but still getting my point across, kinda comeback/response for them. He swore up and down one time I was going to get the cops called on me when a woman who worked at a local pharmacy, decided that’s how she was going to be to him, reckless with her mouth. I fixed that though. All the while surprising him because I was respectful while doing it. Hell I still surprise even myself! I’m dead serious too. Okay! Back to baby daddy. So he is now suffering from deep depression. Every relationship he’s had since HE broke up with me, has been a failure. I didn’t cast no superstitious, witch binding spell on him or possible new loves of his life, either. Even if believed in all that crap, which I kinda do, I still would never have done that. I always considered it karma. He was messaging me one night and I got him to talking about himself and his current love life. He was like, he just didn’t get it. Why was it so hard to find someone willing to put the same amount of love and effort into his relationships as he was. I recently, very might I add, that if he was looking for someone to love him as much as I did that he was never going to find that in anyone but me. I did however quickly back that up with that doesn’t at all mean that he’ll never be happy. He’ll find that perfect person one day, just not to give up. Stop trying to settle down with every person you get with. Not all of them want such a huge commitment. Believe it or not girls are just as much players in the game of life that men are. Maybe not so openly like men but they are indeed. I also seen a recent post from him pertaining to something about drug use and love and that there was no in between, it was one or the other. I’m sorry to admit but I laughed my ass of when I seen that. Only because of who I last knew him to be in a relationship with. He met that girl in a very much dope filled life we all were in back then. I’ve never seen a whore, a dope whore (keeping it real people), drop to her knees as fast as that girl did that night. I made sure to message him privately about that though so he wouldn’t be considerably laughed at by everyone on Facebook. You can wonder at my surprise when I found out he was no longer seeing that said female. So I reached out to him again just the other night. He was talking crazy shit like he knew he wasn’t going to be around much longer, and that no he wasn’t talking about suicide, he just kind of felt it. So he’s been in my prayers and in my thoughts a lot. Sometimes I try to talk to my husband about little pieces of him. Asking him for guidance on what to say to him, or what I should tell him to do. He’s (my husband) 59 years old. 20 years my senior and very wise. Wise beyond mine or my baby daddies years that is. So when I genuinely speak to him about my daughter’s dad, it’s with an open heart that’s weighed down with worry over what he may try to do to himself next time, if there is a next time. I pray to God there isn’t a next time. I really hope he goes to a doctor and really gets down to the niddy gritty with them. I hope he is honest about what he’s feeling in his head and not complaining about a back ache or something such as that, is what I meant. I signed my daughter up so she’s able to speak to a counselor whenever she needs one, today. She was diagnosed also with having PTSD. As do I, from a house fire that took the lives of my 2 year old nephew and my 26 year old sister. Tragic and very traumatically impacted my brain and the horrid things i would “what if” myself to death over. Hers thank God wasn’t the same kind of PTSD. It was bad regardless of how she came about acquiring it. To hear my child now possessed one of the most hated diseases humanly possible besides depression, made me angry. I wanted to be the hulk and smash the person or people that contributed to her being diagnosed with it. The ones that were the cause of it. But I had to check myself before I carelessly wrecked myself. I know one of the people solely responsible for a majority of her ailments. I had to reign in the centered and in control me. Or the old me way going to have a hay day walloping the shit out of sole person. I may not have been much of a fighter in my past, only because I tried to avoid conflict with any and everyone, but now I dare someone to test me. They will surely catch these hands quicker than they knew what hit them. No I’m no badass bitch just cause I served time either. Serving time behind bars only makes me hard headed for not learning sooner than it coming to me being locked up. Makes sense I hope. So as she is finding out more about her illnesses and if they are hereditary or not, her father is also trying to self soothe his illnesses by saying things such as, “he’s a functioning addict”. Or him self medicating period with his d.o.c. His is speed and mine is benzo’s. Polar opposites yeah? So everyone that takes the time to read this drawn out blog, please keep my baby daddy in your prayers. Names aren’t needed and if you need one please use mine. I hope everyone has a good nights sleep and a blessed day tomorrow.

About Post Author

BooBoo

I'd rather read a good book, VS watching the movie made from it on TV. Most thoughts on that are 'why'. Well, my answer for that is that there aren't any limitations to your imagination. Therefore, when I'm reading an action packed thriller that I can't put down or stop turning the pages of is because the details are written by the author describing the scene/situation with such clarity, that I think it's far better than what anyone can visibly see on TV. That being my opinion only, I'm sure millions and billions of avid readers out there agree with me 100% on that reason alone. I've always had an active imagination growing up. I'd use the almost empty cans of shaving cream my dad would give me, as the whipped cream on top of the mud pies I made.Of course dad got the first one. After all, he did give me the topping. I was very versatile also. I was the biggest tom boy of a little girl you'd ever see one day. To dividing Barbie clothes between me and my older sister (when I was lucky enough to get her to play with me). I had to play by her rules though. Perks of being the older sibling I guess. I loved playing with the Hot Wheel's cars in the dirt. Making race tracks and underground tunnels I'd dig out for them. Sometimes my dad would be outside with me showing me all kinds of different things I could pretend to do when playing cars. I have one day in particular that stands out among the rest. It was when I learned to do the underground tunnels for the cars to go through. He showed me by taking a simple stick off the ground and using it like a tool to push the dirt out from one side to the other. It wasn't a tunnel without keeping the top part intact. I acted like there was a cave-in, and then accidents, crashing the cars together. No one ever got hurt in my imagination though, just the cars got hurt. Growing up with a sister 6-years older than me taught me lots of things, both good and bad. If I kept her secrets, she kept mine. And the only reason I even had any secrets was because she allowed me to. I got to sneak and smoke in her bedroom at night after our parents went to bed. I had to be very quiet because I got caught most of the time. But I was always caught by our momma. And then all she made me do was get back in bed. I came from a poor family so anything name brand wasn't known to me for a long time. I was bullied and made fun of all throughout my school years. It doesn't matter which year you pick. From the 1st grade, all the way through high school. I know that's terrible to have to admit, but I think it'd be even worse having to admit to being the bully. I swore to myself I'd never treat anyone the way those kids treated me and made me feel. It bothered me so bad I'd dream about standing up for, and actually fighting over other kids getting bullied. I woke up all of a sudden one morning after punching the lights out of a bully in my dream. When I really punched the headboard and made my knuckles bleed. Come on! When a child is taking on the burden of other bullied kids, you know that's a heavy burden to bear. It was also very hard on me. I never talked about it to my parents though. Yeah, they knew. But back then no one really knew what to do about that problem like they do now. Or, well, think they do. I've been in counseling since starting school. I can't remember a day going by without me seeing the school guidance counselor. Shout out to Mrs. Reeves though, at Lone Oak High School. She made the biggest impression on me as far as wanting to help other kids like me. The bullies were actually the kids who came from well-to-do families. Kids who never knew what it was like to experience the disappointment of being told 'No'. Or that there wasn't enough money to buy what they wanted. Kids that figured there wasn't anything better to do except make fun of the less fortunate to get them through their day or to have a conversation piece. The anger and hatred that built up inside of me was, and still is undescribable. The thoughts they caused me to have. Picturing the tables being turned and the bad things said back to them, bad things being done back to them. It only made me feel better on the inside. I've been asked by numerous doctors in my life if I'm suicidal. I've answered no, being completely honest each time. But never have they asked if I've felt homicidal! I know, scary right? The outcome of such thoughts is what triggered the start of mass school shootings. Coming into adulthood was strange territory for me as well, and actually caused me a lot of uncomfortable times, knowing things I knew I could now do but never felt comfortable ever talking about. Even with my sister, the person I was closest to, I couldn't open up and freely talk about anything of the sexual nature. I guess because bad things have happened to me on more than one occasion when I was still very much an innocent child. With me hiding such horrid things from my parents, along with everyone else, I felt I couldn't talk about the good kind of sex either. Man did that ever set me back, keeping me immature of certain things I should've known already but didn't. Because in my mind I was still that child who was hurt in a bad way. They were called 'Red Touches' back then. What we were taught to call them in school anyways. Then just when I was becoming independent and living on my own, learning to stand up for myself in a way that would make my sister proud of me, I lost her. That caused me to go into a deep depression I didn't come out of for many years afterwards. March 29, 2003 changed my life forever. I lost my 2-year old nephew that night to a raging house fire. My sister passed 17 days later in the burn unit in Vanderbilt, Tennessee. However, if you've read 'My Story', a post on my blog. Then you'll know that in order for me to know what I now know, and to be the person that I now am, all of the bad shit had to happen first or else I wouldn't have caught and held onto the message so vital for me to have acquired in my life. Helping the less fortunate. Being someone's somebody they can depend on being there when they need them the most. After receiving confirmation that my nephew didn't suffer, not for one second in that house fire... Was I able to let that burden go, only to let in that oxygen, that life support I desperately needed to save myself from a lifetime of misery. Even though I know my sister, Jennifer, isn't physically here to cheer and root me on. I know without a shadow of a doubt, her and Lil Jesse (my nephew) are both doing so from Heaven today, and everyday that follows. If you're suffering from addiction of any kind and you want or need someone to talk to I'm a damn good listener! My contact information is listed on my contact page. Please call, reach out for support. You're not alone no matter what negative thoughts are telling you that you are. God is always there for you as well. If you'd like to learn more about Jesus and how He died to save us, don't hesitate to ask. I'll share what I know is all good, and positive about God. Whom I choose to call my higher power. If you don't believe in God, then the subject will not be pushed. EVER! If you're battling mental health issues and feel alone like no one knows what you feel like. Then I'm here to tell you there's billions of people out there that will share with you that they too, feel just like you do. Hit me up on Facebook, Instagram, or Twitter. All of my accounts should be connected to my website. If you're waiting on me to respond and it's been a while since you tried getting in touch with me, then by all means be more persistent and bug the shit out of me. Make me see your messages. I will eventually and I'll always reply when I can. This is the best I think I've written in this 'about me' section. It's the most I've opened up publicly I know that. I'm open minded, I keep it 100 all of the time, even if it's something I don't like myself, or for others, I still have to keep it 100 with myself in order for me to keep it that way with everyone else. I hope this told everyone a little bit about me, maybe more than I originally intended. But it's all accurate and up to date with where I'm at in my life right now. Thank you all and God Bless
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