Easter

Easter was pretty quiet, boys home but each doing their own thing and me doing mine. It's not the same as it was when they were little but I treasure having them around. I know there's a time coming soon where they won't be, where they will be moved on to their own lives and interests, doings and families and I won't have them so close. 

I was missing home pretty badly. Or rather, I was missing knowing I belonged somewhere. That little knowing in the back of my head that THIS is where I fit. Some of this, I think, was brought on by the news that Dee proposed to the rebound girl this week while they had their very first face to face meeting (as one friend said, MOVE FAST MUCH??). On most levels, I still very much feel like I dodged a bullet there, and this set of circumstances simply made that all the more clear. I guess on some tiny little deep level, my ego took a smidge of a hit. I'm adult enough to admit that it stings a bit to know how little I mattered. Realistically, I know that it's not a direct reflection of my worth but..the unhealthy part of me holds on to that for a bit before letting go. 

She has followed nearly exactly the path she did with me, and I'm not sure what that says about her but it makes me feel foolish and like I missed way more red flags than I was aware I had already.

In the end, I am better off. The stress of being with her, the fighting and the constant walking on eggshells we'd evolved to, the now-apparent ways I completely changed who I was when I was with her...it's freeing to NOT be Dee's gf anymore. 

Maybe we all have twinges now and again and part of being self aware and healing and moving forward in a healthier manner with lessons learned is acknowledging those twinges and then setting them free? 

I wish Life had a guidebook at least, potential pitfalls that may occur along the roads and pathways, and detours to take when you meet them. That would be too easy, though, wouldn't it? And maybe defeat the whole purpose of the venture.

The other side of the "missing" equation is that I do miss some of the family and I miss the familiarity it bred. I didn't always feel accepted and loved there, felt like there were hoops to jump through in order to receive approval but it was still home. Maybe I need a visit home, to refresh everyone in my mind and remind myself of why distance is a good thing. I think we all tend to romanticize things a bit when at a distance like this. Sometimes, though, we have to go home to remember why we left.

Relief

My brother had his triple bypass this last week. I think we were all scared, him more than anyone, but he came out okay, off the ventilator in good time and as of yesterday, was resuming his humor and ornery old man demeanor. I'm relieved. We may not be super close but he's my big brother and I do love him. I worry about all my siblings like a Mother Hen, because it's always felt that's what I AM to them. I hope he continues to make good life choices so we don't have to revisit this place again anytime soon, but it's a relief that he came through and is on his road to recovery.
Dee opted to remove me from both her Facebooks, as well as removing the boys and just about anyone else associated with me, I think. She says it's because she was cleaning out the people she doesn't talk to often but in reality, it was me and my associates because she's readying for a visit with her new girl and wants to protect them or wants privacy. Regardless, she could have been honest because I really wanted to delete her myself but didn't want the drama. While it stung for about .00009 seconds, there was a bigger sense of relief. It feels like I've shed a winter coat in favor of a spring jacket in 60 degree weather. It's ...lighter.
Things with the boys are lighter as well. They are currently at a place of truce, no fighting over stupid video games or inconsequential details just to poke at one another. Ryan is feeling the pinch of having changed jobs and I think he's realizing that maybe it wasn't the best choice to have made but he's taking the adult route and moving forward. Trev's doing okay with his third shift, although it certainly is an adjustment both for him and the household. We don't tiptoe around all day but the flip side is that he also does not tiptoe around all night on the nights he's off. Bran is trying to adjust to his new full time hours but he's struggling a little to find a new norm. Time management is not his strong suit but I have faith he'll get there, with a little extra cheerleading. I guess when I was told a long time ago by my Grams that you have to deal with each one on their own level, she was right.
Work is...work. I was offered a position with ParentCompany, doing essentially what I'm doing now but with added responsibilities of title clerk but taking a pay cut. Granted, I'd have insurance (another expenditure though) and vacation time and NOT have to deal with RabidChihuahuaBoss but I can't afford to lose the kind of money each month this would entail. Not even for the relief of not having him on my back all the time. Onward and hopefully upward, I guess.
I'm sort of at loose ends on the personal end of my life spectrum. Lars and I dance around, enjoying each day as it comes without making any formal declarations of any sort. On one hand I think he very much likes my company and is becoming attached to me but I think he's afraid to hold onto that too tightly. For me, I'm  just not willing to put pressure on anything. I have my own fears, I guess? We have fun. He makes me laugh every single day and while we have had differing opinions on some things, it hasn't reared into an actual disagreement or fight. He's sweet and thoughtful. I guess we have the benefit of time and patience so it's okay not to rush or push into something too serious too fast. It's like an odd sort of boxing but..more pleasant than that sounds. There are things I don't ask and maybe assuming will come back to bite me in the ass but at present time, I'm okay with NOT asking those questions because it allows me some freedoms of my own, I suppose. And after the mess with Dee? I'm gun-shy still. I may be that way for awhile yet and it's a relief to be able to give myself some grace and say it's okay to be that way, but not forever.

Triple bypass

The news back from doctors after my older brother's heart catheter yesterday was not good. He is 95% blocked in his main arterial corridor, 85% and 75% blocked in his ventricles. Kel is facing triple bypass surgery in the next few days. He's all sorts of chaotic feelings right now, which the nurses explained to my mother is very normal: apparently after a heart attack many patients face crazy hormones and chemistry, which causes them to be all kinds of bipolar. Kelly is already bipolar and ADD so this is sending him into a tizzy and they're having a tough time keeping him calm. Mom said yesterday after his cath that they had to stop him from leaving the hospital because he was hellbent on NOT having any surgery. I understand his trepidations, I get that it's a shock but I'm worried he's not thinking clearly. I hope as he adjusts to the situation he calms a little and weathers this. I talked to him last night and he was in turns angry (at the situation, at God, at LIFE), worried (he doesn't want to lose his job, or his house because he's going to be off work for a couple months), scared, and even vain (he's a good looking guy and is disturbed to know they'll be cracking open his chest and leaving a scar! smh). My poor brother is a rainbow of emotions and none of that can help his blood pressure or his poor heart at the moment.
My mom is also a mess, just torn to pieces that there's something wrong with her firstborn and she can't fix it. As a mom myself, I can so understand that. There's nothing worse than seeing your babies in pain and not being able to make it better. Mom also has a very soft spot for my brothers. She'll never admit that but it's truth. They occupy a special place for her.
I think sometimes Life gives us wake up calls, a chance to change our ways or take a different path. A reminder that the purpose of living is to LIVE but not always the way we think.
Heavy heart but hopeful.

Rollercoaster weekend

I guess it was more than the weekend though. It technically was a whole week of rollercoasterishness. (Yes, a Nixism). Work last week was a bear, with an ebb and flow to the actual business that caused a few waves now and again. My boss...HE was the real issue. I think I drove home after work in tears 3 out of 5 days last week, with Friday being the absolute worst. There's nothing like being told, when you literally eat, sleep and breathe your job and put it neck and neck with your family, that it's not a priority, that you aren't good at it, that your boss doubts your commitment and you desire to see it succeed, that you're a liar and he's seriously considering replacing you with someone who cares.
I was so mad, I was shaking. I left work half an hour early because if I stayed, I was liable to say or do something to ensure I got fired. So mad, I squealed out of the parking lot. So mad I burst in to tears before I even hit my car. He's such an ass, upset over something caused by his OWN actions and lack of attentiveness. You can't tell people you're going to call them to rectify a situation then avoid them for weeks on end and expect there to be no fallout and that's exactly what he did. He's...an ass.
I cheered up a bit on Friday after talking with Kenz and Lars and peeps. It was already a hard day because it's the anniversary of my Grandmother's passing (10 years) and I swear I miss her more every day. I think I'm just at a stage in my life where I wish I could talk to her about everything that's going on and get her advice. I feel her absence keenly.
 Saturday brought a few errands, a rainy day that I loved, a BBQ with my drivers and their wives for my birthday on Sunday. They made me tear up. My drivers truly are the only family and friends I have out here beyond my sons. I bend over backwards to make things as easy for them as I can and they mean a lot to me, after 2 yrs working so closely. I've suffered through health issues with them and their children and wives, I've celebrated births and graduations and birthdays. They make me feel like I belong and that means more than I can ever say.
 Sunday dawned with flowers sent to me for my bday from Brandon, a card and a call from my mom with news that my baby sister Sissy is getting engaged. More errands, a tie rod being replaced by 2 of my drivers (thank goodness they were able to!), and bad news: my brother Kelly had a heart attack on Saturday and was taken by squad to a hospital in Cols, where they were going to do a heart catheter in order to assess damage. It's also my birthday and the anniversary of my Great Grandmother's passing. I swear, my birthday is cursed. *sighs* Lars was moody and sad, and all I wanted was comfort of my own so we spend time commiserating.
Lots and lots of good and bad this weekend, with not a lot on the even keel.
Here's hoping the rest of this week goes more smoothly. I think I've had my fill of peaks and valleys.

Respect

Yesterday...was an awful day at work. My boss is a handful on GOOD days and yesterday was far from good with him. He's based in another state so for the most part, I run our office here with the help of my head driver and our branch manager (we work for another company).
Every now and again, my boss decides he's not thrown his weight around enough or that he's not being kept in the loop somehow and becomes a tyrant. Yesterday was one of those days. He called me, aggressive from the beginning of the conversation so it quickly escalated into a full on screaming match. I should never, ever, EVER have that sort of situation with my employer. Like...NEVER. I have decent people skills but dissolved in the face of his onslaught. I'm not proud that I let him get to me but I'm also not going to lay down and let him verbally kick me over and over. The ridiculous part is that after calling me a liar, etc. he realized he was wrong and that he was mis-remembering things but never once said he was sorry or apologized for his behavior. That's inexcusable on a basic human level, let alone as an employer. I hung up on him at one point. I'm just not going to listen to someone go off on me like that about something that is a figment of their imagination. He refuses to listen to reason when he's in that state, like a kettle with boiling water needing to let off steam before the shrieking ends. Once he pops his top, he's a little more reasonable but it's ludicrous that it even needs to be that way. I wanted so badly to tell him to fuck himself yesterday and walk but that's not what a responsible me does.
Because as much as I hate his actions, as much as the disrespect is getting to me, I uprooted my sons from everything they knew for this job. I lost the vast majority of my family over our move here. We've put down roots and I need the money I make at this job in order to keep us afloat. Granted there are a bajillion jobs in Omaha but no guarantees I'll make what I'm making here.
So it's a toss up and a weighing of options when I consider NOT working here any longer.
I just..I want what everyone wants: I want to be able to do my job with the knowledge that I'm going to have basic human respect the same as I offer. 

Days

Yesterday was Brandon's 22nd birthday. I cannot believe he's 22 already! I know every parent says the same thing when their child gets older: "where has time gone, time's flown, how can they be this age ALREADY" and I fall into those ranks readily. I truly cannot believe he's the age I was when I had my last baby. His birth, 6 days before my 19th birthday, changed my life in every single way. His presence in my life saved me on so many occasions. I'm pretty sure without my sons I wouldn't still be here, as horrible as some may think that sounds. There were multiple times in the past that I lived my life for them because I didn't think it was worth living for me.
I had a miscarriage at 16 but it was Bran's birth and his arrival that made me a "real" mom. He taught me the meaning of loving someone unconditionally, what it was like for your heart to live outside of your chest. It was all so messy because I battled postpartum depression horribly and while I loved him desperately, I was drowning in my own demons as well.
Not long removed from the chaos of my family and graduation, still newly married and with a baby at not yet 19. His dad worked third shift so the primary brunt of care fell into my hands and while I was used to caring for kidlets having raised my little brother and babysat to earn money, it was a transition made difficult by the crazy hormones twisting me up in knots. I can't say I was always the best mother. His dad and I began to fight a lot, I was seriously isolated and depressed, with no support system and a husband who thought I was being a baby. Dishes didn't get done, except Bran's bottles. I hated cleaning. I became a shell of what I was. I loved this little baby with every ounce of my being but I hated myself and felt like I was disappearing. Everything imploded, husband and I split, I moved out with nothing but my son and my clothes. We settled into a visitation schedule of two weeks and two weeks which shredded me. I may not have been the best mother at that time but I loved my son and to go two weeks at a time without seeing him crippled me.
That said, I'm pretty sure if I hadn't had my two weeks on with him, I would have ended things and can say I kinda tried. Our custody situation turned brutal and there was a period of 6 months where I didn't see Bran at all, not once. It was one of the darkest times of my life. I took A LOT of Vivarin one night mixed with Tylenol. I threw up until I couldn't anymore and I'm surprised I didn't have any long lasting impact from that, lucky I didn't burn up my damned liver or stomach.
I look back at that time now, having weathered it and am so grateful for my sons. I'm so thankful I made it through the seemingly insurmountable days to come out into sunshine again.
I haven't always been the best mom, have made more than my fair share of mistakes but I've never taken for granted how lucky and blessed I am to have been chosen for them.
Twenty two years a mom and so very proud of the man he's become. Maybe I didn't screw it all up as much as I feared I might. And maybe I'm just a really lucky woman to have been given the ones I was. 

Poker face

I am not the sort of person who is good at hiding my emotions or thoughts. I have the kind of expressive face that gives it all away, that lets people see inside me like I have no barriers. So many times I've been told I wear my heart on my sleeve or that someone can read me like a book and while there are times I wish it were different, that I could keep a little of myself hidden away for protections, for the most part I'm okay with being so open. I guess I like to think that in spite of all the bullshit I've been through and dealt with, that I've managed to keep an open heart. I am a strange mix of child-like and gun-shy, open and scarred.
Boundaries have always been an issue with me. Mine are very fluid, easily moved or smudged. I tend to overthink everything, place others' needs in front of my own and swallow any frustrations or resentments I have because I war with my sense of self preservation vs. my people-pleasing personality. I wish I could stand firm more often but that leads to a guilt that ...I can't always handle. Sometimes it feels like disappointing myself is more easily managed than the disappointment of others.
I don't want to be that way, though. I want to be healthy, with knowledge to my core that it's okay to say no, to put myself first, to not always just take what is handed to me. It's just...not easy. It hurts. And while I know all change hurts to some degree, putting myself in front of others hurts to the nth degree when I know it makes people important to me unhappy in any way.
It's a complex situation that is exacerbated by  my submissiveness, by my  Piscean nature, by my life-long training to be what everyone wants and needs me to be.
Relationships...not having a poker face in a relationship is akin to handing someone a box of matches then setting up kindling all around and putting flashing signs overhead to alert them to where to start the fires. Or at least, in my experience, that's what it's like. Maybe because I haven't had such stellar partners? Rob wasn't so bad, although we tended to fight a bit towards the end. He was probably the healthiest of all my past relationships. I just wasn't. I was fresh out of my dysfunctional family home, fresh out of high school, raw and wounded and trying to heal without any guidance as to how to do so. Dean and Dee we won't even go into. "Submissive" got bastardized into "slave" and "doormat", which I neither want to be nor AM.
I just..want to be happy. Healthy. Able to be assertive, not aggressive, not passive. Able to just be..me. And be loved and accepted for that. It's what everyone wants, right? To know that they can be their authentic selves and still matter, still be valued? I guess I don't understand why that's so hard to find.
Does having a poker face, being able to hold a piece of yourself back, help?