Explanation (JMB)

"Why do you wake up crying?"

"Why?"

"Yes, why?"

"Hmmm." :: thinking ::

"Because I wake up remembering everything I go to sleep to forget. Because it takes a moment for consciousness to catch up with existence and realize that everything that is breaking my heart has already broken it, and there's no reason to cry, because I've spent decades crying over it all."

:: silence ::




Why I Love Him

When I was a child, I saw my parents argue. Every. Single. Day. I swore I would never end up like them.

My first relationship was with a man who left me because I refused to have a threesome between him and my best friend, then also declined a threesome between him and his best friend. The next guy "took his birthday present" while I was passed out at the birthday party (21st) that I threw him, spend over a thousand dollars on. The subsequent years, I was physically, mentally, psychologically, and emotionally abused so much that by the time that I had my miscarriage, The man I married promised me 3 things. 1. That we would never end up like my parents. 2. That we would always love each other like the first day. and 3. That I would never need protection from him. He broke all three promises. I was beyond repair.

Or so I thought.

John had already been in my life. I had put out a request for guys to contact me about a poll I was holding for my blog Girlfriend Etiquette. John was one of a number of guys who contacted me willing to answer my questions (anonymously).

After I added him to my MySpace in order to get the answers, he started contacting me almost daily every time I logged online and asking me how I was doing. I would do the polite thing and say "I'm fine, how are you?" Then I would (as) discreetly (as possible) log off.

Well, about a week or more after the miscarriage, when I finally lifted myself off the ground (couch) and tried to get myself back to life, I logged online, and guess who was waiting to ask me how I was doing?

I literally told this guy off, asking him if he really didn't realize that I had been blowing him off. He said yes, but he was there if I ever needed a friend.

Over the course of the next few weeks, we developed a stronger friendship, which eventually turned to months and a beautiful relationship.

He was one of the only people there for me during the darkest days of my life. In fact, with the exception of Ted, no one else called me, contacted me in any way, or came to visit me. I am eternally grateful to Ted for caring enough to call.

John was there every single day, ready and willing to talk to me. Every. Single. Day.

We have an enormous amount in common, and I know my closest friends are worried about me, thinking that I may have rushed in to this too quickly. But, I've spent four months by myself. That sounds trivial to some of you. But those four months were the first months that I have ever, ever spent alone. I have NEVER been on my own. I have always lived with my parents or a boyfriend/husband. I have never been alone. It's given me a lot of room to grow, to learn, to cope, to grieve, to understand, and most importantly, to forgive.



I know there are some of you who still think I should have given myself more time. But this man is everything I have ever dreamed of, and more. He's been my light in my darkest days. He's stood by my side during the most brutal months of my life.

I still wake up crying, expecting my parents to be screaming and arguing and being violent towards one another. I wake up thinking I am going to be in trouble for something and be thrown against the wall or down the stairs or trapped in some place or another. I wake up afraid that I am going to be worthless. That I am in the hospital, still, bones broken everywhere, lungs collapsed and punctured, burns, glass, fractures... Afraid that my missing clothes are the result of someone's self-proclaimed "birthday present," that I am in trouble afor something and will be thrown against the wall or down the stairs. That I am completely and utterly alone and that no one thinks I am worth the trouble.

But when reality sets in, John is on my mind, and I realize that I am worth more than they or anyone or even myself ever gave me credit for. John probably gives me more credit than I deserve, but I adore him, and I can't believe that he gave me the time of day, even though he says the same thing about me.


He's amazing. We have almost the EXACT same taste in music. The only real difference is that I listen to rap, and he doesn't. But everything else is parallel. He listens to old country, rock, rock'n'roll, and even Leonard Cohen. He is very competitive, so I anticipate many nights playing board games with him and Nicky. He is going to take us camping and fishing. He doesn't write poetry or stories, do art, he's not a musician, and he's not emo. He watches sports, a first for me. Ever. He knows how to work on cars, and he used to buy houses and fix them for a living, so he knows how to fix everything. He doesn't work on computers (a HUGE plus), in fact, he barely knows anything about computers. He is very family oriented, even though he has never been married or had any children. He loves playing cards. And most of all, he makes me feel that regardless of what I've been through or the fact that I am scarred like the bride of Frankenstein, I am beautiful, inside and out.

I love him.

♥John Micheal Burchett♥

Drunk on Coffee

Think I am exaggerating? Have you ever been to IHOP on a Friday with good friends, a great waitress, and unlimited coffee? Drunk on coffee? Oh yeah.

Tonight was an epic WIN. Yes. Ted & I get there first, then came Mike, then Xavier, then Sable, and finally Bryan. Bryan made a courtesy appearance. Turns out that he and Sable know each other from a previous job.

It's a small world, after all! It's a small world after all!

Yes, we sang Kumbaya.o__O NOT.

So we swapped stories. Of course, Ted had to tell of our drinking adventures. Mwah ha ha. :: blush ::

Everyone got along really well, which is, in and of itself, an epic win, because I am sure everyone knows what happens when you get random people together and it just doesn't click. That's always an epic fail.

So, our waitress was Mike's replacement (if you don't know who Mike is, he is the waiter who served Steffi & I on numerous occasions, and who I am pretty sure we traumatized. Anywho, someone thought it was a good idea to give him a gun & handcuffs & make him a security guard. Way to go), and she was awesome. Didn't get her name, but she was also a win.

Unfortunately, I think some of her customers were being dickheads and she came out of the bathroom crying. I gave her a free hug. :) I also think she made a full paycheck from our tips. Hahahabanana. Yes.


So, John calls me around 12:45am my time, and at that time, we were all pretty sloshy on food and coffee, and I figured we'd be leaving soon. Nope. We got a coffee refill and started talking Food Network.

There was a lot of Bobby Flay and Martha Stewart bashing, and lots of love for Alton Brown. Iron Chef (the original and Iron Chef America) were talked to death, but still, it's like a phoenix, reviving from ashes. You can never have enough Food Network conversation.

We didn't leave until almost 2am. So. That is why, even though I have to be at work at 1pm tomorrow for a ten hour shift, I am here, blogging at 3am. Actually, closer to 3:30.

Thank you, everyone, for a wonderful night.

I love you, John Burchett, and I cannot wait for you to meet my friends. We are dOrks, but we are awesome. (What's that song...)

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=OYws8biwOYc

Crazy

So, me & a couple friends hit up Buffalo Wild Wings on 1604 & 281 after work tonight. My first drink had a fly in it (which was pointed out to me only after I drank it), and the waitress offered a free drink.

This drink was followed by a shot of rum and then a Wild Punch which had like five different liquors in it. Nice. I passed my drink around for my friends to taste, and when it got to Chris, well, I am not sure what happened. Either I let go before he had it or something. He said the glass was slippery. That drink spilled all over me.

So the waitress comes over and Chris is offering to buy me another drink and she goes back to get it and then comes back and says that the manager told her to come talk to us and for appearances she had to tell us that generally they don't replace spilled drinks.

Hello? No one asked for a free drink because of the spilled drink. We knew that was our fault.

Let me tell you, Chris is a little firecracker. I thought he was going to set that place on fire. So, after 3 drinks (and a sip), we left, smoked a cigarette in the parking lot, and went our separate ways.

Now I remember why I stopped going drinking out. Oh wait, that sentence was supposed to come later.



I'm on my way home, and I see flashing lights behind me. I am 100% positive there was not enough alcohol in my system to inhibit my drinking (obviously, since it's not enough to inhibit my spelling), but for one horrifying moment, I pictured myself being arrested and losing everything.

But the cop tore past me and screeched to a halt next to a truck that was stopped at the light. Then she pulls in front of the truck (which is already back saddled by another cop), gets out of her car, and they proceed to start banging on the windows of the truck. She then pulls out her stick (what is that thing called? billy stick?) and bashed the window in.

I so wish I knew the story behind that.

Oh. Now is the sentence.

Now I remember why I stopped going out to drink. Yes. Don't get me wrong, my friends are awesome, but all I feel right now is that I wasted $20 and pretty stupid for doing what I said I would never do again: drive after drinking. Add that to the fact that I live 42 miles away, and that equals a pretty stupid Jessi.

But I've been living by myself for going on 4 months now, and this is the first time in my life that I have lived by myself, so I suppose I am entitled to one stupid mistake, and thank you, God, it didn't cost me.

I am sitting here, writing this blog, wishing I had just come home and talked to John on the phone because now he's sleeping and I miss him like hell and I just can't wait until he comes home because then I'll never be lonely again.

I've learned a lot in the last year and half of my life. A lot about life. A lot about myself. I wouldn't trade anything with the exception that my son was hurt in the accident, I wish it had all been me and he had walked away unscathed. Hell. I would have broken all the bones I did three times over if it had meant he didn't have to go through what he did. But I can't change that.

I think that after the miscarriage, it was good that I was alone, because I have had time to grieve. I have had time to get to know myself and understand who I am without a man defining me. But it is going to be great to come home and crawl into John's arms and know that these tragic, sorrowful, broken days are behind me.



On a weird note, my eye is still twitching. I don't know where the twitch came from, but it's driving me mad. I can feel it on the bottom part of my eye where the lashes are. Twitching twitching twitching.

I am listening to POE's Haunted, pondering the meaning of my life, looking forward to Friday, May 14, 2010, like it's the beginning of my life.

I am literally shaking with breathless anticipation. No matter what I've done in my past, no matter what has been done to me, I drop all my regrets and bitter remorse and forgive all and hope all has been forgiven and pray I can be everything to the man who saw me through the darkest days of my life.



♥John Burchett♥

It's Going to be an Epic Year...

...in music.

With the onslaught of another decade, we are bombarded with new music...by new artists, and old artists. I love that I am seeing some bands from my younger years on the list of bands releasing albums this year.

Ke$ha - "Animal" - if you haven't heard her songs yet, you must be living under a rock. I have to say, this is another Lady Gaga episode for me, and I hate that I love her songs. I do. Tick Tock, of course.

Lady Antebellum - "Need You Now" - I adore this band. Crossing the waves from pop and country, like so many other artists are doing now, they linger mostly in the twang side of the spectrum, so the fact that they are being played on the pop stations says a lot for them. I love their songs. She is both beautiful and has a sultry voice and he is hot and has a sexy smooth voice. Yes. Definitely a band worth listening to.

Rob Zombie - "Hellbilly Deluxe II" - Rob Zombie makes me want to dance... I love his songs, and his lyrics, too. A throwback to my high school days, this album is going to be added to my collection very shortly.

Fear Factory - "Mechanize" - I had not heard that Fear Factory had come out with another album, so I think I am slacking in keeping up with the new music. I am looking forward to hearing their new stuff.

Massive Attack - "Heligoland" - From the first time I heard their song "Angel," there has always been a dark, loving spot in my heart for Massive Attack. Their album Mezzanine is a constant on my mp3 player, and I am glad to see them gaining popularity with their new album.

Daniel Merriweather - "Love & War" - This guy has soul. His voice drifts towards Jonny Lang-ish at times, but that is in no way a bad thing. His song, Red, has become a favorite of mine.

Ludacris - "Battle of the Sexes" - I ♥ Luda. What else can I say? It's Luda!

Alan Jackson - "Freight Train" - I have adored Alan Jackson's music since the first time I heard Midnight in Montgomery. That is one of the most haunting songs I have ever heard. The fact that it is in the country genre has nothing to do with how downright beautiful the song is. Like Red on A Rose, too, is...incredible. I am ecstatic that he is still making music. I hope to hear from him for years to come.

Jakob Dylan - "Women and Country" - Are you joking me? Bob Dylan's son, the singer of the Wallflowers, came out with a new album and it's not on my radar? Be afraid...be very afraid. I will update with how it sounds because I adore his voice and I must listen.

Insane Clown Posse - "Bang! Pow! Boom! Nuclear Version" - It's ICP. Need I say more?! ♥

Natalie Merchant - "Leave Your Sleep" - former 10,000 Maniacs member Natalie Merchant has always been on my list of faves. I am excited about this album. Once again, haven't heard anything from it yet, but stay tuned.

Cypress Hill - "Rise Up" - Cypress Hill...no joke. AND! Now with Tom Morello. A fanatical fan of RATM, and partial to Cypress Hill's previous work, I was anxious to hear it when their new song came out on Kiss. Excellent. I like.

Jonny Lang - "Live at the Ryman" - speaking of (see Daniel Merriweather, above). I adore Jonny Lang. Excited about anything he comes out with. Still trying to find his rendition of the Stones' "Paint it Black." ♥

Sevendust - "Cold Day Memory" - Excellent. ♥


To be released...

Drowning Pool - "Drowning Pool" - It's Drowning Pool. YAY!

Melissa Etheridge - "Fearless Love" - I don't care what you say, she has a beautiful voice. Her song "Angels Would Fall" is one of my all time favorites, and I always welcome new music from her.

Hole - "Nobody's Daughter" - Not a fan. If anyone has heard this, please let me know if there is ANYTHING good on it. If you're going to give a thumbs up on this, you better be damn sure of what you're talking about.

Deftones - "Diamond Eyes" - ... o__O DEFTONES!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! ♥♥♥♥

Tonic - "Tonic" - Still another that I should have heard about already. Another throwback, I can say I still love and listen to Tonic.

Meat Loaf - "Hang Cool Teddy Bear" - Didn't know it was out. Haven't heard anything about Meat Loaf in a hot minute. Trepidation. That's a good word for how I feel about this album, as I haven't heard anything off of it yet. But! It's Meat Loaf. I must give it a try.

Danzig - "Deth Red Sabaoth" - huh? Really?!

Smashing Pumpkins - "Teargarden by Kaleidyscope - Vol. 1: Songs For a Sailor" - I once loved Smashing Pumpkins. I heard one of their older songs the other day, and finally understood why many people didn't like them. However. It IS Smashing Pumpkins after all, and I must find out what this is all about.

Soulfly - "Omen" - Why do I always associate Soulfly with Deftones? I know I should associate with Sepultura, but... There's a memory lingering on the edge of consciousness on this one. Presque vu. Definitely looking forward to hearing this one.

Stone Temple Pilots - "Stone Temple Pilots" - Scott Weiland is at it again with STP people. My heart is exploding with anticipay........shun. ♥

Ozzy Osbourne - "Scream" - ♥ I just want to hug him. LOL

Sarah McLachlan - "The Laws of Illusion" - This is what I want. I must have this. Need this. It is Sarah McLachlan. ZOMG! Can't wait!!! ♥

Chamillionaire - "Venom" - Gotta love it. After hearing Rain, I was hooked. Hands down.

Trace Adkins - "Cowboy's Back in Town" - Don't think I've heard a song yet by this (very talllll) country singer I didn't like. Muddy Water and Hillbilly Bone (with Blake Shelton) are always on my player, and I can't wait to hear what he's got up his sleeve this time.

Bad Religion - [title tba] - Just wow.

Beastie Boys - "Hot Sauce Committee Part 1" - Seriously. Who is NOT looking forward to this release???

Cake - [title tba] - seriously? Break out the...uh...shot glasses. Yeah. YEAH!

Goo Goo Dolls - "Something for the Rest of Us" - With GGD, it was hit or miss. I either loved a song by them or I really didn't. I hope this is closer to their older days, and that the 2Ks haven't messed with their sound too much.

My Chemical Romance - [title tba] - because I actually like their songs, I am resisting the urge to scream "emos of America unite!" All joking aside, I am actually looking forward to this album.

No Doubt - [title tba] - No Doubt. No shit?! Thank God. I do NOT like Gwen Stefani out on her own. For those of you who know me and my musical preferences well, you know that there are few singers or bands that I will shun completely from my library, but Gwen on her own is one of them. I hopehopehope she doesn't screw up No Doubt for me.

The Offspring - [title tba] - honestly, I cannot say I'm digging the new tunes from one of my favorite bands from my high school days. I feel like if I looked up the phrase "sell-out" in the dictionary, I would see their pic. But...we can always hope for the best.

Panic! At the Disco - [title tba] - oh yeah.

Papa Roach - "...to be Loved" - This is a Best Of album, but seeing as I adore Papa Roach, you know it will be in my library.

Red Hot Chili Peppers - [title tba] - Let me say it again. Red Hot Chili Peppers. And again. Red. Hot. Chili. Peppers. ♥

Amy Winehouse - [title tba] - I love Amy Winehouse. I do. But...I am not holding my breath for another album from her.



Did I miss anyone? Actually, I missed a lot. Check out the full(?) list here at the AOL radio blog.

♥

Don't Stop Moving

The reasons I am writing this will vary drastically, dramatically from the reasons why you were get angry with, agree with, disagree with, dismiss, or scoff at what I have to say up here on my soapbox, but regardless of how you feel about this, it's the truth: my truth. I want you to read this. Don't disregard this, whatever you feel about it.

We always hear two things when we are down. "Don't worry, things can only get better from here," and "there is always someone else who has it worse than you." For the first one, I can tell you from personal, first-hand experience that that is a bold-faced, outright lie. For the second one, there are few things truer.

My childhood....was bi-polar. Every single day of it. Beauty and ugliness, sorrow and joy, anger and exhiliration. The details are not important, or rather, for the sake of those involved, I will not go into details. From my first (real) boyfriend, things were....bi-polar. So many good memories, so many painful memories. The first one left me because I said no to a threesome with him and his best friend. The next one "took his birthday present" when I was passed out drunk at his 21st birthday party, which I spent $800 on to throw him. One guy left me in the middle of the night, then told me months later in an e-mail that he loved me, but he had to leave, and if he had said goodbye, he would never have been able to leave. Another one was physically violent. Emotional abuse. Psychological abuse. Mental abuse. Seems like I'm trying a little bit of everything. Then the accident - broken foot, knee, leg, arm, punctured lung, burn marks, glass in my skin, fractured nose, chipped teeth. Then the miscarriage.

Nothing has ever come as close to completely breaking me as the miscarriage did. I laid there on my tan leather couch and cried for days, not eating, just crying, barely sleeping....just crying. Then I got sick and even though I hadn't eaten in days I was throwing up. I write. A lot. I couldn't write. I couldn't bring myself to do anything. For all my command of language and thesaurus mind, I can find no word to encompass what I felt. Empty. Desolate. Barren. Nothing adequately describes that.

Still, I must insert a story here that I can neither identify fully with nor honestly fathom the horror and desperation of.

Beth. She was a homeless woman I met when I was working for Valero. She was such a sweet, beautiful, kind-hearted person. The kind that remains alive in our memories for our whole lives. At the age of 8, she walked into her house after school to find her mother overdosed on heroine on the kitchen floor. A few minutes later, her sister walked in. She pushed her sister into the bathroom so she would not have to see what she had seen. Having not known their father too well, maladjustment to life with their father is an understatement. To be fair, she said her father was a good man, he just did not know how to deal with two daughters. He married them off as soon as was legally convenient, and Beth found herself married to a man three times her age when she was 13.

She eventually divorced him, though she had bore three children by the time she did. Two boys and the youngest a girl. Her oldest boy died at 17 in a car accident. Serendipity, too, is not always kind. One day, after school, her daughter, who had epilepsy, died of seizure in Beth's arms. She died....convulsing and drowning in air....in her mother's arms. At the age of 8.

Beth could not get up. She started drinking and hasn't stopped since. She is 50-ish, homeless, junkie, alcoholic, in and out of abusive relationships with various homeless men and vagrants. I couldn't save her. I tried. She couldn't get up, then she got to the point where she did not want to get up. To sober up after who knows how many years of drowning away the sorrow she had not the strength to handle at the time would be devastating to her.

I don't know too many people's true life stories. As a society, we don't tell the bad things too often, not in their entirety anyway. We talk about how we got laid last weekend or high last night or drunk at so-and-so's party and had such a wild time. We talk about the things we think will make other people think we are cool, things that will make people like us because we have been trained, educated, brainwashed, developed to fear loneliness. Even when we are single, we dread the silent nights. So we fill those spaces with friends and alcohol and internet and television. The ambient emptiness would be too much to handle.

But I know some people's stories. Some are like Beth. They just don't get up. Some are strange, like they were born without the ability to feel and therefore nothing fazes them, nothing stops them, nothing floors them. Me?

I've been told two things consistently through out my life. First is that I am strange. I don't care. I am endearing. I smile as I write that, but truth be told, I do care. I won't lie and tell you the silent emptiness doesn't terrify me. But I fill that with music, writing, photography.

Music is a huge part of my life. It can drag back memories I tried to forget, wished not to forget. Make me cry. Make me want to be a pyro. Make me want to scream and punch things and throw an all out tantrum. Make me smile. Make me horny. Make me peaceful. Make me want to dance. Make me want to run. Make me want to save someone, myself, even. Make me thankful, angry, sad, alive.

I try hard not to conform to a mold that would make who I really am disappear into the clutches of what the media says we should be. But sometimes I slip. Bad. Secondly, I am told that I am strong, have to be to have gotten through everything I have.

This is not the truth. This is no where near the truth. The reality between what I am and what people often perceive me to be creates a gulf, trench....a whole universe of difference.

For those of you like me, you will read this, and your heart will break, because you don't want to know that someone else has gone through the same aching, itching desperation as you have. We can't stop. Period.

We see the probable, not the possible, but the probable end to our story if we stop. People mistake this for strength or for insensitivity, and deep down inside we know that both of these play a factor, but the largest part of our story is that we fear not moving. We fear the world and existence crumbling from underneath us, the emptiness within that festers and grows in the night like a refridgerator science project opening up and swallowing us whole, the ambient silence that deafens us when the night takes our sight and that one sense is heightened. We move forward, even if we can't run, we walk, we limp, we crawl forward, because to not move is to give up, and to give up is death.

I laid there on that couch, and if it hadn't been for my son, my beautiful, wonderful, smart, funny, God-sent son....I would have laid there until that silence and emptiness did swallow me and I ceased to exist.

But there is more to this story. Don't stop now. There are lessons to be learned, heartaches and regrets meant for pondering.

Save me. It's not a question, answer, demand, request. It's a mentality. Not necessarily of ourselves, either. Some of us are looking for someone to save because in saving them, perhaps we can save a part of ourselves we need to protect.

But we get to the point where love and protection and strength give out like bad knees beneath us and our solid ground ages and becomes as quicksad.

Stop enabling people.

We think we have to act a certain way, say certain things, agree, acquiese, to show our love for someone. Don't let my mistake be your mistake. Loving someone does not entail enabling them. We all have our vices. Our crutches. Whatever mine is, whatever yours is, whatever the stranger you will pass tomorrows is. Smoking. Drinking. Drugs. Money. Pornography. Speed. Adrenaline. Some worse than others. Whatever it is that keeps someone from dealing with what they need to deal with. We enable.

If you love someone, don't enable them. Do not fall with them, because when you are both on the ground, there will be no one to help you up. Staying out and getting too drunk to understand what you're thinking and getting high to the point of laying on the floor because that is what the other person wants is not the way to be strong for them. Letting them do this, even if you don't, because you know that they "need" this is not the way to love someone.

If you love someone, love them. Be strong for them, protect them, even when it means protecting them from themselves. Because in the end, if the whole world is dragging us down, we have no recourse, and this is not justifiable.



Crying in the shower. Scratching at the place on my chest where I can feel the sorrow.pain.depression.anger.regrets.desperation trying to engulf me and break me. Suicidal thoughts. The darkest place where no one can find you. I've been there. I moved forward. Crawling most times, not running, walking, or even limping....but crawling forward to a light that seems too far away to be possible, to be attainable....move forward.

God carried me through this. I say I crawled, but God carried me through everything. WAIT. Even if you don't factor God into your equation, don't stop moving. Quit enabling. Do it for yourself. Do it for those you love. Do it for those who love you. One day you will look back on your life and realize that you wouldn't change a thing. Because if you had, you would not have what you have now or at the point you realize that if one second, one movement of your life had been different, then you would not have your child, the love of your life, the wisdom, the strength that you will have in that moment. And in that moment, you will reclaim something you lost when you lost your innocence. You will see the beauty in the stillness, feel the lightning coursing through your veins.

Don't stop moving.

Wait

I've found if we step back away from life for a moment....take a breath and walk away from the chaos we are trained to partake in, we can find ourselves.

And if we're lucky, and blessed, we just might find someone else in the process.

I don't understand how I got so blessed to be with John Burchett, but whatever good deed I did along the way, I am thankful I did it.

It Creeps Up on You

April 10, 2010

Yesterday was an excellent day. Even knowing I would be working overtime today, which I was also looking forward to, until 1am, I had a great day.

Nothing out of the ordinary happened, which, I suppose in and of itself, is out of the ordinary. I came to work, had fun with my friends, as always, went home, spoke with John, as always, and even got to speak with him for longer than I have all week.

So why I ended up crying myself to sleep is beyond me. Wait, let me rephrase that. HOW I ended up crying myself to sleep is beyond me.

Not even that makes sense. Whatever.

Anyway. I got off the phone with John, uploaded some photos to MySpace and sent him a photo, talked a little bit to my nephew, who is just getting over a spell of suicidal tendencies, listened to some music.

I was about to go to bed, and suddenly, life hit me. Hard. Not anything new, though, just....a whole load of memories that I try to drown out by working as much as possible, spending time with my son, and if all else is gone and I am alone, drowning it in Wild Turkey.

This last effort has only been in place for about a week now. I know, consciously know, that this is not right. I have never been the type to drown my sorrows. I hardly ever drank at home before, much less alone. Drinking alone is never a good thing. Alcohol seems to drag the depths and bring screaming those things which I try so hard to not remember. Not necessarily forget, just not remember.



My mother constantly tells me that she doesn't understand how I keep going. I've heard from friends that I am a strong person. Even my ex-husband used to yell at me because he says that I would be okay with out him, that I didn't need him, that I was too independant.

I think that people misinterpret this.

I am too weak to allow myself to wallow for long, because I fear the alternative too much. I fear not being able to pick myself back up again, the nights of sorrow if I think too much on these things, the mornings that bring no more light than the midnight hours, the tears, the screams, the debilitating emptiness that ensues pondering my past.



I don't know what triggered it. But something....I ended up sitting in my chair, finishing off the Wild Turkey, listening to Adam Lambert and Daniel Merriweather and Il Divo and Evanescence and thinking about everything. I don't even know where it started, but I know where it ended.

Everything. From the guy I lost my virginity to leaving me because I would not agree to a threesome, to the next guy who ended up "taking his birthday present" while I was passed out at the birthday party I threw him for his 21st, to the guy who said he loved me but was betrothed to some girl in the middle east, to my marriage and being thrown against the wall and down the stairs, then him forgetting that he had a family and trading us in for television, to Robert, who went beyond the worst kind of mental and emotional abuse and gave me an existential crisis because he had a peculiar talent of ignoring someone so completely that they ceased to exist, to the miscarriage, laying on the couch for days, crying my eyes out until I was so sick I couldn't hold anything down and the real meaning of emptiness filled me with an oxymoron. I was literally exploding with emptiness.

And that was where it ended....where it ended last time, with me crying myself to sleep and having nightmares of days gone by, waking to the acute knowledge that there is a life that is supposed to be growing inside of me right now.



This is why I busy myself with anything and everything....because I fear the silence, the loneliness, and most of all, the emptiness.

Wasting Away...Time

So, there's no life growing inside me anymore. I cried so much, it was certainly more than my own tears shed, and I'm certain that she(?) left me at least a casket of tears to feel her by. I can't say I am empty of tears, because they still fall, but I am surely painfully close to that point.

I've also been sick. Food poisoning or stomach flu or stomach virus. Something. I don't know. What I do know is that even after I stopped eating, it still kept coming out of me, which didn't make any sense.

I've also tried writing poetry, which is generally the best outlet for me, because I can post, somewhat anonymously, on AllPoetry, and just let it all out. Unfortunately, I am also apparently devoid of inspiration. I even had to look up the damn word earlier because the only word that came to mind was influence. I'm even losing my sense of language.

How horrid.

I am about as empty as a person can be at this point. I can feel it...the emptiness, filling up my heart and soul and veins and everything.

Empty

I just found out that the life that was growing inside of me is dying.

Apparently, this is a quite common occurance, however, due to the circumstances regarding it, the women who have gone through this kind of heartache have been granted the mercy of never knowing it happened to them. It is what is known as a "chemical pregnancy," and before a week ago, I had never heard of this. It is when a woman conceives, and the fetus dies within the first trimester of the pregnancy, in what is called an "early miscarriage."

I had been almost a week late for my monthly cycle when it occured to me that I might be pregnant, so, last Monday, February 8, 2010, after work, I had my friend take me to a WalMart and, at 11:23pm, I tested positive on a store-bought pregnancy test. The next morning, wanting to be sure before I alerted anyone to my situation, I took another one, which also tested positive. I began to have some hope that there really was life growing inside of me. I got ready for work, which is second shift, and headed off to work.

Later that day, Tuesday, I started bleeding heavily. It wasn't like a normal period, it was a lot of blood, and a lot of clots. I thought that maybe the pregnancy tests had been defective, as they were in the same box, but a small part of me knew that wasn't true. I looked online for reasons why a pregnancy test would show positive if a woman wasn't actually pregnant. Nothing I ran across was good news. Cancer and tumors can cause a false positive, though they are rare, and most websites indicated that false negatives can occur, but a false positive is almost unheard of. That is when I ran across this condition, this...horror known as a "chemical pregnancy."

By the time a woman thinks that she might be pregnant, her "period" has already started, and she writes it off to having just been late. Or she may never have even realized that something was going on inside of her body, something beautiful and heartbreakingly tragic. Sometimes, the woman realizes that what she originally may have thought was her period is something wrong, so she goes to see her doctor, who runs some tests, and a few days later, she finds out that she was pregnant, but is no more.

Talking with friends, co-workers, and family, I was told that it happens, and that life goes on. People said that sometimes the body thinks that the egg is a virus and the immune system works against it to try to stop it. Or that the baby may have had a small chance of living anyway, even if it were carried full term, and that this is nature's way of stopping a bigger heartache. There were many reasons, many thoughts and opinions, on how this could happen.

Wednesday, I went to a clinic, who took some tests, and they came up positive for pregnancy. Saturday, I went again for more, and today they called to tell me that my hCG levels dropped, which was a good indicator of miscarriage. I hung up the phone, and was about to lose it, but then remembered that the doctor had told me that sometimes the hCG levels would drop and then rise again in pregnancy and that there could still be a chance that the baby could be carried full term. So I called back, hoping and praying for some miracle, that the levels had not dropped significantly.

My blood test last Wednesday showed an hCG level (the pregnancy hormone) at 77. When I called back, they told me that the blood test on Saturday had shown an hCG level of 9. I knew at that point that it was true, the life inside of me was slowly dying, and I was losing a baby.


People keep telling me that it is good that I didn't carry it full term and then have a stillborn, or that it happened now instead of months down the line. They are trying to desensitize me, probably with good intentions to try to keep me from falling apart. But this is not what I want. I don't want to know that I had a life, a beautiful, wonderful, blessed life growing inside of me last week, but that now that life is bleeding out of me, one clot at a time. This is not something that I can just get over. I think people are expecting me to say "oh, well, maybe it's for the best" because the father and I were having some problems, and he is 800 miles away in a different state.

But I cannot bring myself to see the light in this. I cannot. No matter what, I could not bring myself to wish for this, and now that it is a reality, I cannot bring myself to be grateful for this. I can feel the emptiness inside of me where there was a tiny spark of life that in a few more weeks would have had a heartbeat detectable by a sonogram. I can feel the emptiness inside of me where once there was what may have been a girl, may have been a boy. I thought, though, that it would be a girl. Something inside me told me it was a girl. I thought Kelly LeAnn, the middle names of two close friends who died at 25 and 17, would be a nice tribute to them.

Now I am riddled with an enormous amount of guilt, which people would probably tell me is nonsense. I wonder if thinking about that name brought about a fate which her namesakes suffered. I wonder if all the stress of wondering and not knowing is what caused it. I wonder if when I fell in the bathtub, even though it wasn't a bad fall, caused this. I wonder if I am being punished for something. I wonder if I drank something or ate something that I wasn't supposed to and it didn't agree with the pregnancy.


For now, I am ignoring all texts and phone calls, sitting at home, crying my eyes out, and wishing people would stop telling me that it is going to be okay. Because this is not something I wish to be desensitized to. I don't want to say "oh, well, I lost a baby. I can always get pregnant again," as if that baby didn't mean anything to me. Because it did. She did. Regardless of whether the father and I had worked things out, regardless of whether I had to raise her alone, regardless of whether she had been born with some deformity that nature abhors, she would have been mine and I would have loved her and this is not okay. This is not okay. This is never okay. So if you ever have a friend or family member or co-worker who goes through this, don't try to tell her that this is probably for the best and that these things just happen. Let her cry. Let her grieve and mourn the life inside of her that is dying or has died.

When she calls you crying and telling you that she can feel the emptiness inside of her, don't chalk it up to emotions or tell her that she is just imagining things. Listen to her. Because that is all I can feel right now...emptiness.

Call It What You Will

Today is February 14, 2010. Valentine's Day.

Of course, I've seen the name range from anti-Valentine's Day to Single Awareness Day throughout the passing of the hours by various friends. I just tried not to think about it. No flowers, chocolates, teddy bears, or dates here. Just sitting alone on my couch, watching Julie & Julia, again, and planning on watching either Twilight or Where the Heart Is, again, later on.

I have to say, sometimes being alone is therapeudic, but mostly it's just scary. For me, anyway. I haven't lived alone ever. I haven't been single in 13 or 14 years. Add to that the diminished physical capabilities I have since my accident and my paranoid fear of someone breaking in to my house, and it makes for quite the emotional wreck.

Take, for instance, my cooking earlier. By the time I made breakfast, then lunch, then cleaned the kitchen and threw a load of wash in the machine, I was tired, not to mention my feet hurt. They felt like they were breaking. So I laid down and slept for quite a while. This, after having slept for about 11 hours since last night, that made about 14 hours of sleep in less than 24 hours. And still, I feel like if I laid down for maybe 30 minutes, I just might doze off again.

Or my dog, Mimzy, running to the front door and barking at God-knows-what. Literally. I mean, it is drizzling outside, and the wind is shaking the trailer, but she hasn't been barking at that, so why did she just a few minutes ago go crazy like someone was walking through the door? This is a big house...3 bedrooms, 2 bath, 2 living areas... Just thinking about walking through it all and checking every room and closet, plus the laundry room, is making me tired already.

I had a bout of crying earlier. It came out of nowhere. I wanted someone to hold me, to tell me Happy Valentine's Day, even without chocolates, flowers, or teddy bears, and maybe just watch a movie or Food Network with me. Instead, Mimzy was jumping on the couch, trying to eat the tuna casserole my mother brought by earlier. I detest pushing the dog away, but I don't get tuna casserole that often, plus when she eats human food, she gets diarrhea, which she chooses to let loose on my carpet rather than my yard.

So, call it what you will, today, for the first time in a long time, was just another day for me, with the exception of about an hour when I wished it wasn't...just another day, that is.