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Tuesday, June 3, 2014


I'm not sure if the meds have finally started working, or time, in fact heals? But the panic, heartbreak, anxiety is not here today. Things are still the same. I can't say I'm happy. I will say I don't need to talk myself off a ledge today. 

I was looking at my "favorite ex boyfriend's" fb page. He's a dad now, making wedding plans. I feel nothing but happiness for him. I got a text earlier from a friend I haven't spoken to in a while. He's engaged to his longtime boyfriend. I've paid attention to his growth and happiness over the past couple years, and I had genuine joy for him. I can be happy for people. I didn't think I could. Not with the sadness that is my reality. It feels good not to feel bad for a minute at a time. 

I don't know how I'll be tomorrow. I don't care. Small victory today.

Monday, May 19, 2014

Last Half

I completed another Half Marathon in Wildwood Nj. My time was bad, of course I'm hurting today, but reality was not part of the weekend. 
I found us a house close to the boardwalk and start line. We had family dinner, rode some rides, bar hopped, and all made it across the finish line. Friendships were made, there were some "good byes", lots of laughs, and no mention of my life and hardships. 
I needed this escape. I felt good the entire time. Except the actual running part. That sucks. The reason for this being my last? I knew 2 weeks ago, after running the Broad Street Run, that it is time for me to check my ego and face the facts. I'm too old for this. Shit hurts. Not just the normal pain you get from working out, bone/ joint pain. Recovery takes longer. My performance ain't what it used to be.I love the bonding, but the bragging rights go away when each run takes longer and longer to cross that line.  

Here I am. Back in my bed. Dreading my life and what tomorrow brings. Waiting for these meds to take effect. I was told 2 weeks to 30 days. 2 more days to reach 2 weeks. I can't imagine what they'll do. I was always against drugs. Believed I was supposed to feel everything. 2 docs disagree. No one is supposed to feel this pain 24-7. My hair is turning grey over night. My worry lines get deeper by the minute. I have no plans for the future. I don't care about tomorrow. Just exist one second at a time. I wish sometimes I wouldn't wake up. I had a good life. Key word being "had". If this is how my remaining days are going to pan out? There's no point in this. I am just taking up space. 

Monday, May 12, 2014

No title

I can't think of how to begin or how to end or what goes in between. I'll never get used to people you trust stabbing you in the back. Always seems to come when you're at your lowest. Blindsided. Like... WTF? Then you find who is really your friend. In your darkest hours. 

Things are the worst they can be. I shouldn't say that. I'm begging for more weight with that statement. I will never forgive or forget how some showed their true colors during this time. I'm defeated. Ok life, you win. I'm crying "UNCLE"! I'm tapping out. I submit.

On medication for sleep. Medication to get out of bed. Medication to hold a thought. This is a miserable existence. I'm not sure how much longer I can go through the motions. Lights are on but nobody is home. This is not depression, it's devastation. Agony that has no end. I am good to no one. I can't even save myself. Stay away from me. I'm drowning and may pull you under with me. 

All difficult times in my life had an ending. I could adjust to make the magic happen. I have no control of this. It controls me. I can't fix it. It's killing me. 

Friday, March 28, 2014

4 day weekend

other than running a lot, working out, errands, i got nothing. i guess i could have tried to make a plan, but i didnt. it didnt dawn on me until the drive home from work today. wow, i am alone. no happy hours, no dinners, no fun. a part of me is bored and the other part doesnt want to be bothered. the boy is at work, getting on with his life. i work so hard and look forward to time off. i feel like time is standing still. i wish i could flip the script. i have no motivation. i am wasting my life.

Thursday, March 27, 2014

reaching out

i did something for the 1st time yesterday. i went to speak to a therapist. the irish do not go to doctors, let alone a shrink. i did my research and found someone who deals with all the things im going thru. i need coping skills with all thats happened in this past year. ive been through a war. i have battle scars. the boys addiction & recovery, the break up, the move, my work, and recovering from an injury that set me back and helped put weight on me. im not happy. im not getting happy. i cant do it on my own. i need to learn how to start over. get it back. sleep again. breathe. relax. like myself. forgive. trust. end the pain. be proud again. look forward to tomorrow, instead of looking forward to ending today. life has never been easy. i never expected it to be. but this is something i am not strong enough to handle. finally found my breaking point.

i like her. i felt safe. i not only dont talk to docs, i dont really talk to anybody. i rarely ask for help. i dont want to seem weak. she is trying to convince me to tell those around me that im struggling. that i have mad anxiety. that sometimes i dont sleep. i cant make plans. i isolate myself. i cling to the boy, and when hes not around, i panic. that is not a way to live. i have aged 10 yrs in 10 months. she thinks i have support around me. im not so sure.

i am still fucked up about the break up. still my logical brain knows its right, but my heart hurts as if someone is squeezing it. it will never get easy to find out that they are not the person you thought they were. that you were more invested. you gave it all, and it wasnt returned. i remember in the beginning stages of this thing. when it was easy to walk away from it. when my logical brain was saying "get out! this is not for you! run and dont look back!". why didnt i listen to my logical brain> why am i so stupid. here i am. in the dark. in my room. isolating because i feel like i have nothing to offer to the world. that behind my fake smile, everyone can see just how damaged i am. i cant even fake it this time. i reek of failure.

she wants to medicate me. just for a short time. to take the "edge" off. i am not a fan of masking feelings. i am a firm believer that you are supposed to feel everything. good. bad. indifferent. she believes that this is not normal. that i cant begin to heal until i can get a clear head and just exhale. that until i can start to get better, i need a little help. im still sitting on this. i do not want to be medicated. im afraid of it. i dont want a quick fix. i want to feel better, but i want to do the work. i need tools, not band aids. ill need to do some research before i make up my mind.

i cant even grasp what its like to be happy, worry free, content, comfortable in my skin again. i try to remember the feeling, but i cant. i know it happened. i can see the images in my head. i just cant feel the feelings. my memories of good times feel like im watching other people. not me and mine. like a movie. even now, i feel like i have 1000 lbs weighing on my chest. and my thought process is in slow motion. im forcing myself to write so i have a reference for later. maybe my medicated self will need to remember, or my happy self could know what to run from. i dont know. i do know that tomorrow comes. hamster wheel all over again.

Tuesday, March 18, 2014

missing my bff

its now 2 weeks since we ended. it feels worse, but i know its right. i just want the 1st year- year and a half back. it cant be fixed. but when youre feeling this heartache, you forget the reasons for the ending. i dont see this hurt going away for a long time. im not interested in dating. not even a tiny bit. im running more. i have an interview to start school again tomorrow. i need some yoga.

if i am busy doing good things, i cant forget for a minute at a time. this weekend, michael and i hung out with his cousin (she's my age) and her friends. totally different crew. it was nice to be a stranger. we also walked 8 miles sightseeing in our new hood. visited his gmom, and it felt good. i am coming back around, but i miss my best friend.

i dont believe in soul mates. i believe time heals all wounds. i know what we had was more real than anything i was ever involved in. i also know some problems can not be fixed but can definitely be magnified. we have different paths. resentments get stronger when you cant follow your path, because you are walking their road. And vice versa. we all deserve the life we want. pain is temporary. that lesson we all learned by this point.

i hope i get the urge to date in the next few months. im sure hes already stepped out. thats what he does. but i cant imagine being close to anyone. the thought of it is such a turn off. but im 41. time is not on my side. before i know it, my time on earth will be up. do i want to exit alone> right now, that sounds just fine.

Thursday, March 13, 2014


i noticed my posts for the last year have not been fun or funny. that isnt me. but truth be told, i just struggled with the worst year of my life. and a bunch of ass holes around me didnt help.

what i never mentioned during all my rants and tales of woe, was the most gut wrenching thing. i didnt want to write about it because then it was too real to put in black n white. also, people do not understand and will judge. throw accusations and blame when really if you know anything about it, or have dealt with it yourself, you would know we cant cause, cure or control it.

my son is a recovering addict.

everything was in chaos. i dealt with it like any mother would. i tried to scream it out, barter it out, bribe it out. i held him thru a detox. nursed him back to health. believed his lies. cried myself to sleep, if i slept at all. i prayed when i knew there was no one paying attention. i trolled the streets looking for him. i tried everything. even believed his lies when i knew he was lying. not my baby. everybody experiments. this is just a phase. he will just stop.

not even close.

he lost everything.

school, family, friends, every single belonging. he robbed us. all of us. grandparents, even great grandparents and an 11 yr old's piggy bank. stared us in the face and told us "it wasnt me". until that last straw when i faced him with prison or rehab. he finally broke. knowing he was now homeless. no where to turn. i had threatened every last family member that if they "helped" him in anyway, they will have me to deal with. surprisingly, they all complied. they all love him so much they wanted him back.

that night, september 9th, he checked into a 30 day program at 2am, one day after i had all 4 wisdom teeth pulled. after spending 10 hours getting him there. i remember every second of that day. i slept for the first time that night.

let me tell you how he got there.

mutha, fucking, evil, opiates. it is an epidemic. what i have learned through this unwanted learning process, is that our young, educated men are being stolen from us. they are no match. as michael will openly tell you, it was literally overnight. one day he was trying percocet, the next thing he knew he couldnt function without it. but it had progressed so quickly. a simple perc went to oxys. he smoked them. i didnt even know that was possible.

when i stayed with him through his first detox, i was stupid enough to think the worst was over. the opiate withdraw is not days, its months. after the flu, and the pain, comes the insomnia that is relentless. he would beg me for nyquil or anything so he could just go to sleep. i refused him. i explained that he needs to do this on his own. what we learned is he couldnt. oh, by the way. that is how i spent my mothers day weekend.

he got it at his 30 day program. he made friends that he "loved" in days. sadly, most of them are already using, dead, or back in a program. he has no circle of friends anymore. he was the most popular kid always in his old life. he went to a sober living house that i funded. it was for men 18-24. a gorgeous 100 yr old mansion. take a guess of who occupied it. all white, college educated, (some ivy league), middle class, smart, loving, good kids. same boat as my boy.

the house was very strict. no fucking around. perfect place for him. except he couldnt tell them jesus christ was his lord and savior. he couldnt just play the game. michael left there after 6 weeks to be in a roommate situation with kids he knew from rehab. 3 guesses how that works out. 2 out of the 4 fell off the wagon, big time. michael was in a panic. what belongings he had left were boarded up in the house when they were evicted due to the rent not being paid in 3 months. all the while, he is keeping me posted, holding down his job, and keeping upbeat.

we get to the here and now. we are "roommates". im trying to make him a more responsible man. still has his job. clean, just for today, but that's it. back to playing video games. isolates and reads books, (not a bad thing). but not growing. just existing. still entitled which is where my struggle comes in. yeah, im proud of him for staying clean, but he cannot just do the one day at a time sitting on my couch. its time he starts living again.

my anxiety has not let up for one second. when his phone is off, i freak. when he goes to the store, i worry he'll run into someone. i have PTSD from this and it is very real. i wouldnt wish on my worst enemy the pain i went through watching my son dying. but bringing everyone down with him. being a complete piece of shit you wouldnt stop to piss on if he was on fire.

i talked to no one and still dont. my relationship suffered because i was alone in dealing with it while i was with someone. that feels 10xs more alone then actually being alone. the ex wife dumping the kids on us more and more. i didnt want to be with the kids!!! im a fucking mess. we never bounced back. we most likely never will.

so if all my posts in 2013 we on the negative tip, this is why. during all my other annoyances and break downs, i was dealing with this. still do. every second of every day. i took offense to ass holes contributing to my hard time. i was fighting for my boys life and my own sanity. my son got his life, im pretty sure what little bit of sanity i had is long gone.

we had a long talk tonight. i tried to make him understand what effects this had on me. how i dont know how to get back to happy. how i need him to behave in certain ways so i dont suspect the worst. how, yeah, being clean for 6 months is awesome, but that isnt enough. i understand he has to start all over and its scary. but he has to start. he is young and gorgeous, and smart, and sensitive, and compassionate. i shouldnt be the only person to know this.

side note... FDA has just approved a stronger opiate to release on the market. if there is no conspiracy, why stronger dosage<