Growing Up
Bet you'd never think you'd find me here ever again!
But no.... A lot has happened over the last few years. I'm wanting to redo this whole blog and not let it focus so much on teen angst--only because I'm 29 now.
Life's been great. I graduated college in 2015 with a degree in child development (well...it's really a major in Family and Consumer Sciences, a minor in Social Sciences, and a concentration in Child Development, but it's easier to just say my degree is in child development). I worked in a grocery store's gas station for five years before FINALLY landing my dream job. I now work at a before/after school care center for Grades 1-5. I get paid at least $16 an hour for four hours a day--unless school is out, and then it turns in to about six to eight hours a day. I married Jamie back in 2016, we bought a house in 2017, and adopted cats and dogs along the way. I'm also on Clomid now to see if it can jumpstart ovulation for me so I can at least attempt to get pregnant....
The main reason I'm back to this site is because a few days ago, I managed to find the key to my safe and I was able to access my old junior high/high school journals. I mentioned something about LJ in one of them, did some digging...did MORE digging...purged the oncoming depression and decided to change things up a bit.
My newest obsessions are the MCU, which I never would have gotten into if it hadn't been for my best friend Danni. (Yes! I'm still friends with her! It's been 17 years!)
I don't think anyone ever thought the relationships I have in my life would last. Jamie and I will be married for five years in October and together for a total of 11 (we got married on our sixth anniversary). He's 21 years older than me, and I couldn't care less even if I tried. That's been the point of contention with a lot of people--the age gap. I say that if someone makes you happy, stick with them regardless of age.
And when it comes to Danni, I've always loved her. She's always been quick to listen and she gives really good advice sometimes. She's helped me learn so much about what living life normally (or as close to normally) could be like. I don't have to always look over my shoulder and worry if my family is judging my every move. It's my life. What I do with it matters.
The only family member I talk to anymore is Max. Max's blog name in my past entries was Kirra, but they've come out as nonbinary. Rather than stick to the old pseudonym I gave them or ask for a gender-neutral variant, I'd rather use the name they chose for themselves. Besides, it fits them better.
About two years ago...I stopped talking to my family. In fact, it'll be an exact two years on Friday. I got tired of walking on eggshells with them. I'd been doing it for most of my life. Even if I kindly told someone, "Hey, could you please not say this anymore? It kind of hurts", they'd act like I punched them in the face or bit their head off. I wouldn't have cut ties if it hadn't been for both Jamie and Danni, who suggested I block them.
No. Jamie *demanded* I block them. For my protection. And the only way I can talk to them again is if they apologize. Not me. Because I've apologized for way too much that wasn't my fault.
Or...what in their opinion wasn't my fault. I'm pretty sure it really is my fault because I was involved.
My therapist is working with me on that.
I know I'm not perfect. There are some things I could have done differently in the past. Yet...if you were to ask my husband how many times I hung up on my family in a good mood, he'd be able to show you with one hand. The rest of the times had me contemplating...things.
I remember writing in my prayer journal that I'd take my own life if it would make them happy.
This all happened on Suicide Awareness Day. And that was the day my husband had enough of me beating myself up for no reason.
I've since learned that my family is dysfunctional. Well...I mean, it's been shown to me in the past. I just never wanted to acknowledge it because I thought it was normal. But there have been a couple of things where even my therapist is looking at me crazy.
For example: Love is conditional.
Sure, they all said that it was unconditional. But if someone was mad at you, you knew it. You knew it for DAYS. If you wanted a hug and someone was mad at you, you were refused one.
And so began my eating disorder....
I'm not kidding. If I'm mad at myself, I will deprive myself of food. Favorite foods create happy feelings, which I had told myself in the past that I don't deserve if I made even the slightest mistake.
I wasn't allowed to make mistakes while growing up. They said they didn't expect us to be perfect, but everything we messed up on either warranted a lecture or punishment. Or both.
And it's because of all of this that I've decided that if God blesses me with kids, I want to raise them differently. "You accidentally knocked over the vase? That's okay, I'll help you clean it up. Oh, you're going to throw something because you're angry? *disciplinary measure taken* Okay, so what do you want to watch on TV?"
It sounds better when I say it out loud, I promise.
I want my kids to know beyond a reasonable doubt that I love them more than they will ever know. That I have prayed for them since I was 18. That I started taking medicine because I wanted them to exist--even while knowing my chances of having multiples are increased because 1) I'm a twin; 2) I have 22 sets of twins on my mom's side of the family alone; and 3) fertility drugs increase that chance significantly. (Because who wants to take care of multiples, am I right? ...That's supposed to be a passive-aggressive joke towards my mother.)
So that went on a tangent.
I think I might stop here for a bit. I want to see if I can get on here tomorrow. The only problem is that I've got a therapy appointment tomorrow. We do EMDR, and it usually leaves me emotionally vulnerable for a few days. Last Wednesday, I watched Dug Days on Disney+ and wanted to cry. Then I watched again the next day (all five episodes again) and felt the same way. It's...a mess. So yeah, if I end up extremely emotional, I'm sorry in advance.
It feels nice to be back. I hope it lasts for a while.
-Sable