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Divorce & The Holidays

When I think about the holidays I think of the typical “jolly” spirit that we’d all like to embrace. There’s so much more lurking deeper inside all of us. We just don’t share it, and if we do we become a “Negative Nancy” or some sort of “Bah-Humbug” nuance that we all had hoped to avoid. 

I can’t speak for everyone factually and I don’t want to sound like I am. So let me speak for myself.

My childhood wasn’t perfect. It also wasn’t entirely typical. I grew up in an upper middle class, mixed race, church-going, mixed family. My dad was my dad. My mom was my mom. My sister was my sister. Of course, I loved them all. My sister is technically my half-sister, though. We shared one parent in common. My mom and dad had me later in life. I could go on with details. We all had a loving life, or so I thought. I thought we all loved each other. I thought love would keep us together. 

When I was coming into my teens, my mom was currently working as an esthetitian. She owned her own business and it became a family business between my parents. She had many customers. Many were repeat customers. She had one customer in particular that used many, if not all, of the services available. She tipped well and even brought her little dog in every once and awhile. She was also clinically deaf. 

One day there was bad news going around the beauty salon my mom and dad owned together. This specific woman, this customer, had been hit by an oncoming train. She didn’t hear it coming because she was deaf. Her husband came into the salon to tell my mom what had happened days later, not saying much else. Little did I know this was just the beginning. 

Over the period of a next few months there were times where my mom would get home from work and just sit at the computer. A computer that was not from our home. It was unusual because she would usually watch Sex and the City every night, or Ally McBeal. I found out later that the husband of the late woman bought my mom that computer. In a matter of time they were communicating in various ways through computer, phone calls, texts, the like. I suspected what was going on, as I was 14 at the time. 

One day I woke up to goto school and I couldnt find my mom anywhere. My dad said she had left the house in the middle of the night to goto another man’s house. I was surprised it happened so fast but I was privy to it. 

She left him. She left us, all of us, for him, for good. 

I was shocked. I was saddened. My heart broke.

Fast forward to now, ten years later and I’m still not over it or accepting this man as neither my stepdad or family member. You could say I hold grudges or live in the past, but this is full-on grief. I’m in the stage where I’m learning to accept the change, ten years later. 

The holidays for 2016 are rolling around and why am I stewing about this now? Because family and holidays will never be the same, and a holiday without the family you’ve ever known will never be the same. It’s a process of grieving. 

Recent Alcohol Problems

I’ve been dealing with alcohol issues for about a strong month now. Somewhere in the back of my mind I knew I would.

I started drinking when I was 15. It wasn’t until about 21 years of age when I really had somewhat of an issue. I binge drank at that age, once I could legally get my hands on alcohol. I went crazy a bit, wanting to become a wine connoisseur. It slowed down and I quit after awhile. So I figured, “no problem, here”, right? Probably right, to an extent.

It was until this year, 2016, in January, when I took it back up. I binge drank. Quit for a few months to start gambling for the first time in my life, hard, for about a month. Quit that.

You’d think these were phases the way I quit them so quick. In June, I went back to drinking, everyday, hard, again. Fast forward till now, early July, I’m still drinking. Not everyday but it’s every other day.

I guess I’m not sure what to think about all of this. I just feel as if I need to see this words. Only to read it back and realize I probably had somewhat of a breakdown.

Will I look back and realize I had a breakdown? Probably so, Moze, probably so.

My group therapy has been a no-show on the schedule since may. They stopped it for some reason. I haven’t had enough therapy. I’m dealing with a using boyfriend. 

Those are my reasons. That’s what i’ve been sticking to as to why i’ve been drinking. It’s been a stressful summer off school. You’d think this was all college “stuff”, but it’s more than that.

-Moze

My Mother’s Rejection Of Me

I got into an argument with my mom a couple of days ago. I ended in her saying she doesn’t want to speak to me for a few months. Which really broke my heart because I speak to her everyday, sometimes more than once a day. It really broke me down.

I deleted her from my Facebook, for a couple of reasons. One, I don’t want her to see my posts anymore if she feels she doesn’t want to talk to me for a really long time. And, two, why do I even have my mom on Facebook, anyway? She has for countless times spied on me and asked me to down posts about her. I am not going to do that. I don’t air my dirty laundry on Facebook, and I rarely post, but when I do I post what I want, because it’s how I am feeling. I blocked her from twitter and reading my posts there. Don’t ask me why she has a twitter. It’s probably all to spy on me. That’s how I feel.

I am a very lonely person, so I don’t know I am going to go about being home alone for days on end without contacting her, because I have only two other friends. Which are living their life.

Why am I not living my life?
I need a healthier lifestyle, and I need more friends and people who I can contact.
I dropped out of all my classes this semester in college and I am doing terribly right now. I need a total life change.

This has been a turning point in my life. I can’t let someone who is self-destructive in their own ways and to themselves bring me down, too. And that’s what I’m doing. This is exactly what my father teaches me about and I’m so stuck on socializing that I don’t get it. I did a little research on parenting styles. My father’s parenting style is very authoritative, but more on the authoritarian side. My mother’s is rejecting and neglecting. My father is still loving to me, and shows a lot of love. With my mom, I get pushed aside for my sister, falling in between the cracks of everything and sort of forgotten about. She does everything for my sister, while I sit in the shadows collecting dust. It’s also been that way with my mental health issues. I saw her a few times when she visited me in hospitals, but after a few times, it was no more. She wants me to accept her new husband as my dad, but I already have a loving father, and no one can replace him. Ever.

I can’t sleep anymore. I get up at 4am and walk the house. I lay in bed pondering my life over and over and over. I am not myself anymore. I’m a new person, but not in a good way.