Saturday morning

Saturday mornings are meant for waking up hungover, right?
Saturday mornings are meant for waking up cuddling your significant other, right?
Then why am I laying in bed, at noon, with my dogs paws pushed against my butt while my SO is at work? Also not hungover.
You know…it’s noon and I could use a bottle of white wine right about now.
I want to go on an adventure but Jeff isn’t here. So I’ll probably continue to lay in bed with my dogs paws pushed against my butt.
I’ll wait until tomorrow, when hopefully Jeff doesn’t have to work. Hopefully we can spend some time together because I am so tired of working so much and not getting to see him.
I used to love my job. I literally get paid to play with dogs…for 12 hours a day. I don’t get to hangout at home and watch Netflix, or cook all day, or tell Jeff how my day was.
I get home from work, eat dinner and then go to sleep. Just to repeat it all the next day. Sometimes Jeff has to work on Saturdays as well so that leaves one day out of the week to tell Jeff how my day was.
Why do I have a job? I swear I’m just wasting my time.
I just want a bottle of white wine, some chocolate cake and to tell Jeff how my day was.

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From the beginning

So this blog is for no one other than myself. I do not care who reads it or what you may think about it. This is me attempting a new outlet.
So let’s start From the beginning. I was born in Oregon, at a very young age my parents divorced. I had a wonderful older sister who ended up being my saving grace on multiple occasions. My mom moved her, my sister and myself to California from there. We lived with a man who ended up being her second husband and the father of my beautiful little sister. We moved to North Carolina after that and then a couple years later, to Iowa. My moms husband was a good man, a great father and a fantastic role model. I ended up calling him Dad and my father by his first name. I was young, I was impressionable and most of all I was naive. I had never been hurt at this point, sure I had fallen off the monkey bars and broken my arm but I had never been left. I had never been someone’s second choice. Then a few years later, he left. I tried holding on as best as I could. I’d still go visit him in his two bedroom apartment with my little sister and we’d pretend as if nothing had changed. He then found a new woman, quit letting me visit and just like that…I lost another dad. Now my mother is remarried again to her solemate. His name is George, he is fantastic.
From a young age I’ve struggled with mental illness. Multiple types of anxiety disorders, depression among other things. I smoked my first cigarette at the age of 11. I got drunk for the first time at 12. I began cutting myself at 12. I had truly hated myself and completely disrespected my body. I didn’t realize at the time but these were all coping mechanisms for my abandonment issues. I’ve attempted suicide multiple times but the only time I talk about is the one that really matters, the night my mom saved me. I had been medicated for a few months at this point but I stopped taking my medication. I actually ended up stock piling them then decided to take them all one night. I wanted the pain to end. I wanted to quit feeling like everyone’s second choice. I wanted to feel loved. So I decided to end it. Is my pill fueled haze I called my mom. She was on her way home, driving, when she answered the phone. I asked her to bring me home some whipped cream and that I took all of my pills. I heard her accelerate. She got home and I listened while she ran up the stairs and threw open the bathroom floor, which I was now laying on the floor of. She propped me up and told me to stick my fingers down my throat. After everything was out, she cleaned my face and then held me. I’m not sure how long we sat on the bathroom floor while she held me and cried. But once we got ourselves together she told me to walk downstairs and sit in the living room. So I meandered my way downstairs and sat in a chair while my mom, George and my sisters sat there. We all talked and my mom never brought up what I had just done. We talked about our days and it was all just pointless conversation but it truly made me realize how lucky and how loved I was. To be surrounded by my family, the ones that chose me. The ones that never left, the ones who all tell me happy birthday and check on me to make sure I’m okay. Not all of my family is this way, hell most of them don’t ever talk to me unless I’m in the same town as them.
So we’ve already discussed part of my daddy issues but now let’s address the big one, my actual father. After my parents divorced I would spend my summers visiting him in Oregon. Every year pretty much up until I was 15. He got remarried then divorced then remarried. I’m not going to get into the details on all of that but what I will say is, it’s everything you imagined. He chose his new wife and his new kid over me. I spent countless nights in bed with my mom crying about how he never called, never talked to me and never wanted me. It was tough. I’ll probably never completely get over it but I stopped trying to please him. I quit trying to accomplish goals for him, quit trying to get good grades for him, quit giving a fuck about what he wanted from me and started doing everything for myself. I moved out at 17 without him, I bought my first car without him, I graduated high school without him, I moved out of the state without him and now I’m going to walk down the aisle without him because there are plenty of people who deserve to be there on my special day that were there for me on my worst days. For instance, my moms second husband, her third husband, my high school guidance counselor, my gold fish that literally fell apart when I was in elementary school, my two cats and dog, my yoga pants that have holes on the inner thighs because thick thighs save lives, my empty deodorant stick, the salesman that sold me my 2014 Jeep Patriot.
So there you have it, a little bit about me. There’s plenty of holes in my story that I promise to fill on a later date when I feel like it but for now I have 23 minutes until I have to go back to work and I plan on spending it watching cat videos on YouTube.