Things

You know, it was really crazy. The day I lost my mind. I did a soap opera thing, pulled this stunt. And, for what little defense there can be of such a brainless and jackass move, I can only say it was born out of this warped and contaminated place of being emotionally vulnerable.

At the end of the day, I do indeed struggle with what percentage is mine to own. I was of what I thought to be sound mind and bearing, making a decision--what felt like the very first decision of my entire life of choices--and taking my own life in my own hands.

I thought what I was doing was taking the first step, the initiative. Showing my girls my example how to take charge of their lives, to never lose themselves or be lost.

I thought I was doing the right thing, or at least the only thing, that could be done. In the sea of choices I had up until then and for several days, months, and years thereafter, I mistakenly felt that there were none. I felt like there were none the day I lost my damned mind.

And it was, by hook or by crook, without doubt a ticket out. The day I lost my mind was actually a culmination of preceding moments of not actually taking charge of my life as I should have, but it was also the ticket I needed to get out of a life I wasn't so much trying to escape, but erroneously trying to correct.

And so, because of that, there is a tendency to blame only myself, to think of only what I am responsible for, to look inward and not outward, because trying to be a person with integrity means owning what you did wrong just to accept responsibility and not point fingers.

But I have spent a life time turning in on myself like that and it spiral into different if equally negative outcomes, which I over and done with. I have also learned that there is a difference between blaming others to deflect your own guilt and knowing when the other guy was just a fucking asshole and you fell into his pack of lies because you needed so desperately needed to believe in something because everything and everyone around you was so suffocatingly unaware.

I thank God every day that I am where I am, even with the pain I've experienced and the pain I'm currently going through; that I'm not there. I thank God because I'm no longer in harm's way. I'm no longer stressed to the max every day. I no longer have to suffer the presence of him in my life. I have a beautiful life with an amazing boyfriend. It sucks that my girls aren't here and that the reason is because of the asshole ex, but I'm happy they are thriving with their father, a good man and good dad, and that I have a family here with the boyfriend. 

Considering all the ways I have fucked up in the last 15, almost 16 years, I am blessed with the fortunes of being surrounded by two beautiful daughters, one step daughter, a fantastic boyfriend, friends and extended family who love me.